A scream of terror broke from Lizzie’s lips when she saw her aunt fall
back fainting, but she did not know the cause. Neither did Frank or Mr.
Legare. Not even had Mr. W----, who sat talking with Frank, heard her
repeat the name: “Jessie Albemarle.”
Only Hattie Butler had heard it, and seen that her agitation commenced
only when told who the likeness had been taken from, and though a
lightning flash could not have passed quicker than a certain thought
crossed her mind, she dare not utter it then or there.
“Quick, some water!” she cried, retaining her presence of mind
perfectly, as she held the head of the swooning lady on her bosom, “and
some cologne--hartshorn--anything pungent. She has fainted!”
“Frank, run for our family doctor, quick! He lives but a block away. Go
yourself--don’t send a servant!” cried Mr. Legare, and he hurried to
get iced water from a pitcher in the room, while Lizzie ran to her room
after cologne and ammonia.
But the swoon seemed so death-like that Hattie was alarmed. She began
to fear that it was death. She forced a little water between the white
lips, and bathed the good lady’s temples with cologne, while by her
directions Lizzie put ammonia on her handkerchief and held it under her
nostrils.
When the doctor arrived, in less than ten minutes, these active efforts
had barely produced a tremulous sign of life.
“Let her be conveyed instantly to bed!” was the doctor’s first order.
“It is one of her old nervous spasms, and they grow dangerous. She must
remain perfectly quiet, free from all excitement, when she is restored
to consciousness. She will soon come to. The color is coming back to
her cheeks.”
Mrs. Emory was carried to a chamber on the same floor, and Lizzie and
Hattie prepared her for rest, not allowing a servant to come near, and
then Hattie, fearing she would be questioned by the invalid, before
others, when it might not really be the wish of Mrs. Emory, expressed a
wish to go home, saying she would come again should Mrs. Emory desire
it. She would not reach her boarding-house, as it was, much before ten
o’clock.
“You’ll come to see me again, will you not, dear? For I do love you
so!” said Lizzie, when Mr. Legare ordered his carriage to the door to
take Hattie to her boarding-house.
“Yes--I hope so. I wish I had a fit place to receive your visits in,
but I fear you would be ashamed of me in my little bedroom.”
“No, no, now that I know you, I wouldn’t be ashamed of you anywhere.
I’ll go to the bindery to see you, if Mr. W---- will permit visitors
there.”
And Lizzie looked appealingly at him.
“I surely shall ever be glad to see you at the bindery, and Miss Hattie
will not be chided for any time she spends with you, either here or
there, nor will her salary be lessened.”
“Oh, you good soul! Frank always said you were one of nature’s
noblemen,” cried the impulsive girl.
“I thank Frank for his good words,” said Mr. W----, laughing, yet
blushing at the same time.
The doctor came down just before Hattie started, and said Mrs. Emory
was better, but very weak. She begged that Miss Butler would come and
see her on the afternoon of to-morrow, when she hoped she would be
well; at least able to sit up and receive her. She was much afflicted
with the palpitation of the heart, and this now followed her fainting
spell.
Hattie, told by Mr. W---- that she could have all the time she wished,
sent word to Mrs. Emory that she would come, and now, escorted by
Frank, Lizzie and their father, she went down to the carriage. Mr.
W---- accompanied, for he was to see her safely to her boarding-house,
and then ride home in the carriage.
A kind good-night from all of the Legares went with the poor working
girl, and it seemed as if they really regarded her visit as a favor,
though through the sudden illness of Mrs. Emory it had turned out sadly.
Mr. W---- was silent and thoughtful during the brief time taken by the
swift horses to draw the carriage to Miss Scrimp’s door. Without a
doubt his mind was upon the letter then in Hattie’s pocket, and what
might be her answer.
She was thinking of Mrs. Emory, and what had caused her sudden pallor
and terrible agitation, resulting in a swoon at the mere mention of
the name of poor little Jessie Albemarle. Could it be that a brighter
future was about to dawn for the poor little bound girl?
Ten strokes of the great clock bell on St. Paul’s, echoed all over the
city by other clocks, told Hattie Butler that the hour for closing was
up, just as the carriage stopped in front of Miss Scrimp’s door.
Hattie did not know that Miss Scrimp had been waiting and watching at
that door for almost an hour, peeping through the crack, for it was not
quite closed, to see how and with whom she would return. But this was
a fact. And when the street lamp close by shone on the grand carriage
and noble horses, with their gold-mounted harness, Miss Scrimp saw,
with envy rankling in her heart, the tall footman leap down and open
the carriage door, and Mr. W----, even him on whom she had bent longing
thoughts, hand Hattie Butler out with his gloved hands, as daintily as
if she were a princess and he a lord in waiting.
There was a courteous “good-night” passed between Hattie and her
escort, then he sprang into the carriage, and it was driven off, while
Hattie ran lightly up the old stone steps in front of the house and
laid her hand on the bell-pull.
“Oh, you needn’t yank at that bell!” cried Miss Scrimp, throwing the
door open. “It’s after hours, but I was up, and a-waitin’ for you!”
“You did not have to wait long, Miss Scrimp. Not half the city clocks
are yet done striking ten. I may be thirty seconds late by the City
Hall!”
“Long enough, in a chilly night like this. Where have you been?”
“You have no right to ask, Miss Scrimp. But having nothing to conceal,
I will reply--to Mr. Legare’s, on Fifth-avenue.”
“Sakes alive. What did them grand folks want of you?”
“To take tea with them, and to purchase a few drawings of mine for a
thousand dollars!” said Hattie, well knowing this last stroke would
almost annihilate Miss Scrimp.
“Sakes alive! you’re joking!” screamed Miss Scrimp, snatching up the
hand-lamp she had left on the hall table.
“Does that look like a joke?” asked Hattie, and she placed the
thousand-dollar check which Mr. Legare had handed to her after tea,
right under Miss Scrimp’s cross-eyes.
“Mercy on me! You’ll never go the bindery no more, will you?”
“Yes, I shall go there to my work in the morning, just as I always do,”
said Hattie, and she was off up stairs before Miss Scrimp could ask
another question.
“Well, well! Wonders will never stop a-comin’!” ejaculated Miss Scrimp.
“If I hadn’t seen her go in the carriage and come in the carriage, and
seen Mr. W---- help her out, I wouldn’t have believed my eyes. One
thousand dollars--in a real check, too--I knew it soon as I saw it.
Aren’t I dreamin’?”
She actually bit her finger to see if she was awake or not.
Then she sighed.
“It’s luck. Some people are always havin’ luck,” she said. “Here have
I been a-makin’ and a-savin’, a-scrimpin’ and a-studyin’ all the time
for forty years or more, and I haven’t had a bit o’ luck. It’s all been
hard, stupid work. And that baby-faced thing will jump right into a
fortune, I’ll bet, and like as not marry that handsome book-bindery man
right before my face and eyes. Sakes alive! it chokes me to think of
it. If I wasn’t afraid of what might happen I’d spoil her beauty for
her. I’d put arsenic into her tea, or pison her some way. She a-ridin’
around with my man, that ought to be, in a carriage, while I stand here
a-shiverin’ like a thief in a corner a-waitin’ for her. But I mustn’t
make her mad. She has got a thousand dollars, and I’ll raise on her
board, and make her come down, too. She can afford it, and she shall.”
Miss Scrimp said this vehemently, and then shuffled up stairs to her
own room.