Part 26 (1/2)
Two days came and went, and Mr. Leslie did not appear.
”I say, you people!” said Tom, bursting into the dining-room at tea-time. ”Did you know that Mr. Leslie was sick? Dangerously sick, Jim Morse says; not expected to live, I believe.”
”Thomas!” said Aunt Faith with unusual severity, ”what do you mean?
Tell the truth.”
”Well, he's sick, any way; and Jim heard his mother say it was a dangerous fever. Hallo, Sibyl! what's the matter? How pale you are!”
”No more pale than the rest of us,” interrupted Bessie, with a quick glance at Sibyl; ”we all like Mr. Leslie, don't we?”
”Of course we do. He's the best man in the world,” said Gem fervently.
”I shall go and see him immediately,” said Hugh, rising.
”Oh, Hugh, it is probably the same fever the Brown children have!”
said Aunt Faith anxiously. ”You must not expose yourself needlessly.”
”In this call I consider it necessary, Aunt Faith,” said Hugh. ”Mr.
Leslie has no near relatives, and although he is loved by his congregation, dread of the fever will keep most of them away; besides, they cannot leave their work. He will be left to hired nurses and you know what Westerton nurses are!”
”Go, then, my boy, and may G.o.d be with you,” said Aunt Faith, with tears in her eyes.
The tea-table was soon deserted. Sibyl went to her room, Tom and Gem took refuge in the back garden with the three dogs to bear them company, but Aunt Faith and Bessie sat on the piazza waiting for Hugh's return.
”After all,” said Bessie, ”we need not feel so anxious. The report has pa.s.sed through several mouths; no doubt it is exaggerated.”
”I hope so,” replied Aunt Faith; ”and still I have a strong presentiment that Mr. Leslie is very ill. His face looked strangely worn and pallid as he sat there that last evening, and when fever attacks a man as strong and full of life as he is, the contest is far more severe than with a more feeble patient.”
Eight o'clock struck, but still Hugh did not return. A step sounded up the walk in the dusky twilight, but it was not his; Graham Marr appeared, and again asked for Miss Warrington.
”Go and tell Sibyl, my dear,” said Aunt Faith to Bessie with an inward sigh. Then, as Bessie went into the house, she said, ”Have you heard of Mr. Leslie's illness, Mr. Marr?”
”No,” replied Graham, as he stood in the doorway carelessly twirling his hat in his hand; ”is he very ill?”
”We do not know; we have heard only a rumor. Hugh has gone to find out the exact truth.”
”Ah--yes. If it is fever, no doubt he caught it in that unpleasant locality where his chapel stands,” said Graham. ”I have often wondered how he could endure the life he leads, but I suppose he is not fastidious. His nature is not so finely wrought, or his nerves so delicately strung as those of some other organizations.”
”His nature is strong and manly,” replied Aunt Faith, with a shade of indignation in her voice.
”Ah, yes, exactly. A man in his position has need of strength,” said Graham loftily. Then, after a pause, ”You have heard of my good fortune, Mrs. Sheldon?”
”I have heard that your uncle was dead, Mr. Marr.”
”Ah--yes. Poor old gentleman! I never knew him well; we were not at all sympathetic. My grandfather's singular will has now been fulfilled, and the estate, which has rolled up to double its original value, will now be divided between my two Southern cousins and myself.”
”I congratulate you, Mr. Marr.”
”Thank you. I think I shall not discredit my fortune; I have long endeavored to cultivate the tastes which belong to wealth,” said Graham with languid pride.