“We have come after Miss Hattie Butler, Mr. W----,” said Lizzie, after
shaking hands with him.
“Our dear Aunt Louisa is ever so much better to-day, and her first wish
this morning was to see her. But the doctor thought she had better wait
until afternoon, until she grew stronger, and so we waited till after
lunch, and then we had to come. Our aunt would give us no rest.”
“That’s so. Do you know, Mr. W----, though she has not positively said
so in so many words, I believe our good aunt means to give us a new
cousin? I feel sure she means to adopt Miss Hattie as her daughter.”
“Hardly against the will of the latter, who has a mind of her own, and
few minds stronger or better balanced,” said Mr. W----.
“But this morning,” said Lizzie, “when I went early to her bedside,
she was murmuring in her sleep, and I heard the words, ‘my precious
daughter,’ distinctly. And when she awoke, I knew she had been thinking
of Miss Butler, for she asked the very first thing if she was in the
house.”
“That certainly bears out your idea,” said Mr. W----. “I will go and
call Miss Hattie, and you can state your wishes to her. She will go
with you, I know.”
“Lizzie, he is just one of the best fellows that ever lived!” cried
Frank. “Isn’t it a pity he is only a book-binder after all?”
“I don’t know as that sets him back in my estimation one bit,” said
Lizzie. “He is handsome, manly, and well-bred.”
Frank looked at his hitherto aristocratic sister with eyes of open
wonder. What he would have said had not Mr. W---- come in that moment
with Hattie, we do not know, for his lips were opened to utter a reply
when the book-binder and his fair employee entered the office.
Then Frank had no eyes but for the latter, no thought, for the moment,
of any one else.
“Dear Miss Hattie!” was all that Lizzie said, as she ran up to the poor
bindery-girl, threw her arms around her neck, and kissed her again and
again.
Frank would have given his team of fast horses, anything he had in
the world, if he could have used those very words and given the same
salute, more especially if he could have got the return his sister did.
But he had to content himself by shaking her hand, which he pressed
quite warmly, as he said:
“I am glad to see you looking so well to-day, Miss Hattie, after the
fright our aunt gave you last night.”
“Thank you!” said Hattie, kindly.
But Frank noted, with some chagrin, that she did not return the
pressure of his hand.
“We have come to carry you home with us to see Aunt Louisa,” continued
Lizzie. “She asked after you the first thing this morning, and the
doctor said as she grew stronger to-day it would do her real good to
have a visit from you.”
“Then, if Mr. W---- can spare me, I certainly cannot refuse to go,”
said Hattie, with a smile.
“You certainly can be spared for such a purpose, Miss Hattie,” said
Mr. W----. “Your time could not be better spent than in comforting
those who need comfort.”
Hattie saw the hidden meaning of those words, and she would have
comforted him had it been in her power. But she had made a decision in
his case which she could not change.
Mr. W---- now escorted his visitors and Hattie down stairs to the
carriage which waited, and when the two girls sat side by side there,
one resplendent in silk, laces, and diamonds--the other in her ever
neat, well-fitting and well-made shop dress of ten-cent calico, without
an ornament of any kind, he compared them in his mind, and his heart
still told him the shop-girl, beautiful, but poor, was superior to all
others in the world--his heart’s first and last choice above all others.
And he stood there and watched them and the carriage till it turned the
corner, and then he went back, with a weary sigh, to his business.
As the carriage rattled on over the paved streets, so Lizzie’s tongue
rattled, too, while Frank’s eyes only were busy studying out the
marvelous beauty of the girl to whom his sister talked.
“Do you know, dear Hattie,” said she, “that I believe we are to be
cousins--real cousins. For if Aunt Louisa adopts you as her daughter
you will be my cousin--my dear, dear cousin, will you not?”
“I fear I shall never be more than a dear and true friend to you, Miss
Lizzie,” said Hattie, kindly, yet gravely. “Your aunt, perhaps, wishes
to be as good to me as you indicate, but I can never yield to her kind
desire.”
“But, Hattie, darling, you don’t know her yet. She is so good! Never
did a kinder heart throb than hers. She is the counterpart of my
blessed mother, who died on earth but lives in Heaven. She has seen
many sorrows--we know not all, for she was abroad with her first
husband for years, and we heard he was a bad man. She married him
against the will of her parents and friends, but her last husband, whom
she married because they all wanted her to after the first one died,
was a very good man, and he left her over a million of dollars in her
own right. We never talk with her about her first marriage. She does
not like it. But she often speaks of Mr. Emory herself, and his praise
never hurts her feelings. We all liked him very much.”
Hattie was a good listener. She never interrupted Lizzie’s narrative
with a single question. And a real good listener is a “rarity,” as Mr.
Barnum said when he found the “What is it.”
“Now you will think it over, will you not, if Aunt Louisa proposes that
you shall be her daughter, as I know she will?” said Lizzie, stealing
her arm coaxingly about Hattie’s waist. “Don’t say no, dear--at least
not at once. For her sake soften a refusal, if it must come.”
“I will do everything I can in honor and justice to myself to make your
good, dear aunt happy,” said Hattie.
“You darling! I knew you would!”
And Lizzie, caring not a jot that they were driving up the Fifth
avenue, passing and meeting occupied carriages all the time, kissed
Hattie over and over again.
And poor Frank sat there and saw their red lips meet, and he wished he
could be Lizzie, if only for a minute.
But the sweetest moments must have their end. The carriage drew up
before the Legare mansion, and its occupants were soon within its
stately walls.
Mr. Legare met them at the door.
“This kindness is truly gratifying, Miss Butler,” said he to our
heroine. “My sister is yet quite nervous, but the doctor is confident
your visit will be a benefit to her. She is anxious to see you. I left
her but a moment ago, and she sent me from her chamber to see if you
had come. She wishes to see you alone for a little while. I can almost
guess the cause of this wish, but I will not anticipate it to you.”
Then, as soon as Lizzie had taken her bonnet and shawl, Hattie went to
the chamber of Mrs. Emory.