Wives and Widows; or The Broken Life Part 29

It was a call--an appeal for help. A voice from Mrs. Lee's room cried with energy,--

"Martha Hyde! Martha Hyde!"

I rushed into the chamber, followed by Lottie, and found Mrs. Lee half risen on her sofa, tossing her arms about, and calling still upon my name, although she was yet asleep.

Many moments pa.s.sed before I could rouse her, and when I did, she sank back on the pillows perfectly exhausted. I administered such restoratives as were at hand, and, with Lottie's a.s.sistance, succeeded in bringing her out of the half swoon into which she had fallen; but she was fearfully weak, and much excited.

"I have had such terrible dreams," she moaned, "I am afraid to go to sleep."

"They are over now," I said, soothingly; "you shall sit up and have your tea."

"Yes, please. Don't let me sleep any more, don't, Martha Hyde."

All the while she held fast to my hand and looked wildly in my eyes, repeating,--

"Such dreadful dreams, Martha Hyde--oh! such dreadful dreams!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

COMPANY FROM TOWN.

That evening we had a number of visitors from the town, and so much gayety that it quite pa.s.sed from my mind to speak with Mr. Lee concerning the call upon young Bosworth. Indeed, I was not in the parlors much of the time, for he came to me and asked if I would sit a while with his wife, as he could not leave his guests, and she was so much more nervous than usual, he did not like trusting her entirely with Lottie.

I felt grateful to him for remembering her, and went away at once. As I pa.s.sed toward the hall, I saw Jessie at the piano surrounded by a group of gentlemen, Lawrence nearest, turning over the music, and talking to her at intervals.

Mrs. Dennison was flitting about like a gorgeous b.u.t.terfly, making merriment and pleasant conversation wherever she went.

Her quick eyes detected me as I pa.s.sed the music-room door. She moved along, smelling carelessly at her flowers, the sight of which made me sick; they were roses from the choicest varieties that Mrs. Lee considered peculiarly her own.

"Going to preserve your bloom by an early sleep, Miss Hyde?" she asked, pleasantly.

"I am going to sit with Mrs. Lee," I replied, coldly enough, I dare say.

I was not accustomed to dissimulation, and when I disliked and doubted a person as I did her, it was very difficult for me to conceal it.

"You are quite the guardian-angel of the house," she returned, so sweetly that no one except a suspicious creature like me would have perceived the covert insult under her words; "I expect every day to see you unfold your wings and fly off."

"This is my home," I answered, quietly, "so I shall not fly very far from it in all probability."

She laughed in her charming way; but there was an expression in her eyes which would have startled me, had I not felt that she was powerless to do me personal injury.

"And a pleasant home you have," she said, with a sigh; "you can't think, Miss Hyde, how delightful it seems to a tired worldling like me."

I was in no humor to listen to sentiment, and I replied curtly,--

"Not tired, Mrs. Dennison, or, of course, you would forsake the society that wearies you."

She shook her head patronizingly and smiled, oh, such a sweet, sad smile--she must have practised for days to attain such perfection in it.

"How innocent you are!" she said; "I envy you, dear, kind Miss Hyde!"

How I longed to fling back her affectionate epithets with the scorn they deserved; but, of course, that was impossible, so I made a movement to go, trembling all over with repressed indignation.

"You are running away from me as usual," she said, reproachfully; "I never get a moment now of your honest, sensible conversation."

"I trust you do not suffer much from the loss," was all the answer I made.

I know I am not very wise; I do not deny having my share of little vanities; but Mrs. Dennison had not found the road which led to them.

"I do indeed," she replied; "but I see you will not believe me."

"You have not an exalted opinion of my courtesy, Mrs. Dennison."

"Ah, now you are going to be sarcastic--my dear Miss Hyde, that is not in your way."

She added a few more playful words, then I was resolute to go. I left her standing there in one of her graceful att.i.tudes, playing negligently with her roses.

Once in the hall, I glanced back; the widow had changed her position,--she was stationed by a window,--I saw Mr. Lee approach her, and they began an earnest conversation. I turned and went up-stairs, growing sadder and more sick at heart.

Mrs. Lee slept quietly nearly the whole time, so that I had ample opportunity for my sorrowful reflections,--more than I desired, since dwelling upon the things which troubled me only increased my restlessness, without bringing me any nearer a conclusion that could have been of the least value.

After Mrs. Lee had gone to bed, I went into my own room, and saw no one again that night. When it was too late, I remembered that I had not spoken to Mr. Lee, but consoled myself with fancying that Jessie would tell him, or that I should have an opportunity in the morning.

I was disappointed both ways. When I went down to breakfast, I found that Mr. Lee had been obliged to ride over to the iron works. He had gone before any one was stirring, and would not return until late in the afternoon.

While one of the servants was giving me that information, Mrs. Dennison pa.s.sed through the hall. She hurried on with a smile, but I noticed that the skirt of her dress was wet and soiled; I felt certain that she knew of Mr. Lee's intention, and had gone out to meet him, and hold one of her private conversations.

Before she appeared again, Jessie joined me in the breakfast-room.

"How late we all are!" she said; "it is too bad."

"I quite overslept myself," I replied; then I remembered my thought of the last night. "Oh, my dear! did you ask your father to go with us to Mrs. Bosworth's?"

"I had no opportunity," she answered, blushing crimson. "I am afraid, too, that I half forgot it."

I knew the reason of that; Lawrence had been talking to her all the evening.

"It does not make much difference," I said; "I will go with you."

"I am sure papa would be willing," she observed, looking troubled at the idea of the visit.

"I spoke of it to your mother; she desired you to go."

"Very well then," replied Jessie; "suppose we start after breakfast; we can get back before mamma will want us in her room."