“One morning, while we were
arranging a drive for the afternoon, General Harrington
entered the room, bringing a letter in his hand.
“‘How do you find yourself
this morning, fair lady!’ he asked, approaching
his wife and kissing her hand with his accustomed
gallantry.
“‘Quite well,’ she
answered, lifting her eyes to his with that lovely
smile of greeting she always had for him, and which
made her face so beautiful.
“‘That is the most delightful
news that could greet me,’ he replied, with
one of his courtly bows. ‘How is my paragon
of wards?’ he continued, turning to me.
“I answered him pleasantly;
he was so elegant and thorough-bred that one was insensibly
forced to restrain even pettish thoughts in his presence.
But I was abashed all the while, for I noticed that
as the General came up to the sofa, James immediately
retreated and resumed his seat in the window.
He had often of late betrayed those little signs of
desiring to avoid the General’s society, and
they puzzled me very much, for the elder man’s
behavior to him was always friendly and courteous in
the extreme.
“‘I need not ask after
your health, James,’ the General said, good
naturedly, ’because it cannot have materially
altered since I made the inquiry an hour ago.’
“‘What is that letter?’
asked Mrs. Harrington, with the curiosity that becomes
habitual with most invalids, and speaking so quickly,
that James’ disregard of his stepfather’s
remark was not noticeable.
“’It is for you, madam;
I could not resist the pleasure of giving it to you
myself, for I know how much you like to receive letters.’
“‘Thanks! You manage
in everything to give me a double pleasure,’
she said, taking the letter from his hand and tearing
it open.
“‘From Zillah,’ she said, glancing
down the page.
“I saw James start. He
caught me looking at him, and quieted himself at once;
but I noted his agitation plainly.
“The General was busy wheeling
an easy chair near the sofa, and did not catch his
wife’s remark.
“‘From whom did you say it was, my dear?’
he asked.
“‘From Zillah,’ she replied, without
looking up.
“‘She, indeed,’
said he carelessly, ’and what does the poor and
rather bad tempered Zillah have to say?’
“He sat down by his wife’s
side, playing with the flowers that lay on her cushions,
and did not observe the quick, angry, defiant look
that James shot at him as he spoke.
“‘Poor girl,’ said
Mrs. Harrington, as she finished reading the hurried
scrawl, ’she is pining to come and join us; she
says she is much better, but so lonely and homesick
that she feels it will be impossible for her to get
well until she is safe with us again.’
“The General shrugged his shoulders.
“‘Your spoiled Zillah is seldom contented,’
he said, pleasantly enough.
“‘Just read the letter,’
Mrs. Harrington said, placing it in his hands.
’I am sure you will be sorry for her she
says she feels like a poor little Italian grey-hound
left out in the cold.’
“The General read the letter and returned it
to his wife, saying
“’I suppose she is lonely,
and since she is well enough to travel, of course
she had better come on at once she can be
of service to you, I dare say, even if she is not
strong enough to resume her old duties.’
“‘I really want to see
her, pretty creature,’ Mrs. Harrington said,
glancing over portions of the letter again.
“’I feel quite lost without
her caprices and bad temper besides,
she always knows exactly what is to be done for me,
and does it in the best way.’
“’Only, thanks to Miss
Mabel’s kindness, you have not had time to miss
her,’ the General said.
“‘Oh, there never was
such a nurse as Mabel,’ cried she, ’but
then I can’t quite make a servant of her, willing
as she is to sacrifice herself to my whims.’
“‘I scarcely thought you
regarded the girl Zillah quite as a servant,’
said James, speaking for the first time. There
was something so bitter in his voice, that I wondered
they did not notice it.
“‘Indeed I do not,’
Mrs. Harrington replied. ’She is faithful
and loving, and so handsome that it is like having
some exotic flower about me.’
“’Mrs. Harrington never
forgets what is due herself or others, James, whether
they may be dependent or friends,’ the General
said, in a more reproving tone than I ever before
heard him employ towards his wife’s son.
“Again James’ dark eyes
flashed upon him that strange look of anger and defiance.
“‘May I see the letter, mother?’
he asked, quickly.
“‘Certainly,’ Mrs.
Harrington said, stretching out her hand over the
back of the sofa.
“As James took the letter, the General said
“’Zillah is not likely
to have any important secrets to write to your mother.’
“I might perhaps
it was fancy, caused by the suspicion that was in my
own mind but I thought he slightly emphasized
the words ‘your mother.’ No, I am
sure it was not fancy, for James’ lips shut together
in the compressed way they did when he was angry,
and a frown gathered on his forehead he
had caught the peculiar tone as I did.”