But she had a disagreeable dream. Again she saw Hemstead at Miss Martell's feet; but now, instead of being pale and unconscious, his face was flushed and eager, and he was pleading for that which the king cannot buy. She awoke sobbing, called herself a "little fool," and went to sleep again.

But in the morning the dream lingered in her mind in a vague, uncomfortable way.

She was early down to breakfast, for she was eager to speak to Hemstead, and tell him how she appreciated his heroism. But either his exhaustion was greater than the physician had believed, or his uncle's sedatives were very powerful, for he did not appear.

There was nothing better for her than to endure De Forrest's explanations why he had not gone, and his a.s.surances that if he had "only known, etc."; to which she gave an impatient hearing, quite unlike her gentleness of the two preceding days. There were little things in her manner Which indicated a falling barometer, and suggested that the day might not pa.s.s serenely.

She learned from her aunt and uncle that Mr. and Miss Martell were feeling better than might have been expected, and that Hemstead was still sleeping.

"Sleep was all he wanted," said Mr. Dimmerly; "and I made it my business he should get it."

Quite early in the forenoon, Mr. Martell and his daughter felt equal to coming down to the parlor, and after dinner it was their intention to return home. A luxurious lounge was wheeled near the blazing wood fire, and on this Miss Mar-tell was tenderly placed by her father, who, in joyful grat.i.tude, could scarcely take his eyes from her pale face. Beyond the natural languor which would follow so terrible a strain, she seemed quite well.

Both father and daughter appreciated Mrs. Marchmont's courtesy greatly; and Miss Martell's effort to be cordial, even to Addie, was quite pathetic, when it is remembered that she felt that her supposed rival would harm her more than could the cold river.

Lottie made frequent errands to her room, and lingered in the hall as much as she could without attracting notice, in the hope of seeing Hemstead a moment alone. The impulsive girl's warm heart was so full of admiration for what he had done that she longed to show him her appreciation without the chilling restraint of observant eyes and critical ears. But he was so blind to his interests as to blunder into the parlor when she was there and every one else also.

Though it cost her great effort, Alice Martell rose instantly, and greeted him so cordially as to bring the deepest crimson into his pale face. Mr. Martell also pressed to his side, speaking words which only a grateful father could utter.

When, for any cause, Hemstead was the object of general attention, the occasion became the very hour and opportunity for his awkward diffidence to a.s.sert itself, and now he stood in the centre of the floor, the most angular and helpless of mortals.

De Forrest looked at him with disdain, and thought, "I would like to show him how a gentleman ought to act under the circ.u.mstances."

De Forrest would have been equal to receiving all the praise, and as it was, in view of his readiness to have saved Miss Martell if he "had only known," could have accepted, with graceful complacency, a grat.i.tude that quite overwhelmed the man of deeds.

Hemstead's confusion was so great as even to embarra.s.s Miss Martell for a moment, and her face, from reminding one of a lily, suddenly suggested an exquisite pink rose. But before he was aware she had ensconced him in an easy chair at her side, and with a tact peculiarly her own had rallied his panic-stricken faculties into such order that he could again take command of them.

But as Lottie saw them grasping each other's hands and blushing, her dream recurred to her with the force of an ominous prophecy.

Hemstead, in his severe attack of diffidence, had not greeted any.

one on his entrance, but had fallen helplessly into Miss Kartell's hands, and had been led to his chair like a lamb to the slaughter.

But Lottie took it as much to heart as if he had purposely neglected to speak to her. And when, a little later, Mr. Dimmerly commenced a formal eulogy, Hemstead with an expression of intense annoyance raised his hand deprecatingly, and pleaded that no one would speak again of what he had done, she feared that all the glowing words she meant to say would be unwelcome after all.

Everything had turned out so differently from what she had antic.i.p.ated that she was disappointed above measure, and before he could collect his scattered wits she left the room.

"And so it all ends," she thought bitterly, as she chafed up and down the hall. "I sent him out last night as my own 'true knight,'

wearing my colors, and he rescues another woman. When I see him again he brushes past me to speak to the one who, owing him so much, of course will be grateful. With eyes for her alone he wears my colors in his face, and she raises the same blood-red signal. I was looking forward to the pleasure of giving him a welcome that he might value on his return, and he has not even spoken to me. After our parting last night could anything have turned out more flat and prosaic?"

Just at this moment Harcourt, who was another victim of circ.u.mstances, entered, and Lottie, too annoyed to meet any one, fled to her own room.

He had already called early in the morning, to inquire after the invalids; but Miss Martell did not know this, and his coming now seemed a little dilatory, considering all they had pa.s.sed through.

Deep in her heart there was disappointment that he had not come to her rescue instead of Hemstead. Was he one to stand safely on the sh.o.r.e while others took risks from which true manhood would not have shrunk? Could he have dreamt that she was in peril, and still have let Hemstead go without him to her aid? These were thoughts that had distressed her during part of a sleepless night and all the morning.

Moreover, when he entered, Addie had pounced upon him in her usual style, as if she had in him certain rights of possession.

Addie's manner, together with her own thoughts, gave an involuntary tinge of coldness to Miss Martell's greeting, which he was quick to recognize, while her cordiality to Hemstead suggested to him, as to Lottie, that she might be very grateful.

Mr. Martell was more than slightly distant: he was stiff and formal.

As circ.u.mstances then appeared to him, he thought that Harcourt had acted a very unworthy part. Mr. Martell naturally supposed that both Harcourt and De Forrest were at Mrs. Marchmont's, but that only Hemstead had been willing to venture to their a.s.sistance. To De Forrest he gave scarcely a thought, having accurately estimated that superficial youth's light weight. But that Harcourt, the son of his old and dear friend, should have so failed in manly duty, was a bitter trial. As he saw him and Addie together, he thought contemptuously, "They are well mated, after all. How strange that my peerless daughter can have such a regard for him!"

He had become aware of his daughter's preference, though, out of delicate regard for her feelings, he had feigned blindness.

Even had Harcourt known how greatly they misjudged him, in his sensitive pride he would have made no explanations; and he was the last one in the world to tell them, as would De Forrest, how he meant to go to their aid, etc.

His manner puzzled Alice. She could not help noting with a secret satisfaction that, while polite, he was annoyed at Addie's demonstrativeness; and at times she thought his eyes sought her face almost as if in appeal. But her own and her father's manner had evidently chilled him, and he soon took his leave. His face, in which pride and dejection contended for mastery, haunted her like a reproach.

"If Mr. Harcourt had only arrived a little earlier last evening, Miss Martell," said De Forrest, complacently, "you would have had three to thank instead of one. I'm sure if I had known that you and your father--"

"How is that?" asked Mr. Martell, quickly. "Was not Mr. Harcourt spending the evening here?"

"O, no. It was from him we first learned of your peril. He came tearing over like mad, a few moments after the coachman and Mr.

Hemstead had gone; then he dashed off to the sh.o.r.e, where I soon joined him. I thought at one time," continued De Forrest, glad to say anything that would dim the glory of Hemstead's achievements, "that he would start out into the river with no better support than a plank, so eager was he to go to your aid. If we could only have found another boat we would have both gone. As it was, it was well I was there to restrain him, for he seemed beside himself."

The rich color mounted to Miss Martell's face as she gave her father a swift glance of glad intelligence, and he drew a long breath of relief, as if some heavy burden had been lifted.

"Yes," said Mrs. Marchmont, quietly, but at the same time fixing an observant eye on the young lady; "I never gaw Mr. Harcourt so moved before."

Conscious of Mrs. Marchmont's object, Alice mastered herself at once, and with equal quietness answered: "It would be strange if it were otherwise. We have been acquainted from childhood."

Nevertheless, the experienced matron surmised danger to the match which she would gladly bring about between her daughter and Harcourt; and instead of fearing, as was the case with the latter and Lottie, she hoped that Miss Martell would be very grateful to Hemstead.

And so she appeared to be, for she talked to him so enchantingly, and for a time absorbed him so completely, that Lottie entered un.o.bserved, and remained so a few moments. Then his eyes, that from the moment he gained composure had seemed in quest of something, lighted on her as she sat a little back of him, apparently absorbed in her fancy-work. He wanted to speak to her, and yet what could he say before them all?

The telltale color was again in his face, and his wretched diffidence returned. Neither courtesy nor his heart would permit him to ignore her and continue his conversation with Miss Martell. And yet it had seemed easier to go in a boat out among the ice than to think of any proper way to recognize the presence of one in whose eyes he had a morbid anxiety to appear well.

Lottie saw his dilemma, and, while she too began to blush absurdly, would not help him, and her head bent lower than ever over her work.

"Serves him right," she thought. "If he had only met me in the hall, I might--well, I wouldn't have been an icicle."

At last Hemstead concluded that he could safely say "good morning"; and he did so in a very awkward manner over his shoulder.

"Did you speak to me?" asked Lottie, as if suddenly aroused.

"Yes," he replied, under the painful necessity of repeating something that had sounded very flat in the first place, "I said good morning."

"O, excuse me. As it is so late I bid you good afternoon."

Her manner as well as her words so quenched poor Hemstead that he did not venture another syllable; and thus Lottie and her "true knight" had the meeting to which, in remembrance of their parting, both had looked forward with strange thrills of expectation.

But in the light of their flaming cheeks Miss Martell caught a glimpse of their hearts; and Mrs. Marchmont was again led to fear that more was going on than should be permitted by so good a manager as herself.

The dinner-bell soon brought welcome relief to all, breaking the spell of awkward constraint.

CHAPTER XXVIII.