"I can keep a close lip; you know that. No matter if I do get into a tantrum now and again; no one ever heard me whisper a word about that. You understand?"

"Yes, yes, of course. No girl was ever safer, but we must be cautious, very cautious. I mustn't come here often. It is too trying for your temper."

"It is. I agree to that. The sight of you sitting in the public, so calm and cold, drives me mad."

"Then I must not come."

"Oh, Richard! I can't live without seeing you."

"You shall see me, of course. I couldn't endure my life without seeing you. But it must be over yonder. You understand? You might be seen coming or going. Some one did see you in the wilderness the other night, and thought it was Jessup's daughter."

"Did he? Yes, every one says I look like her. Now, I like that."

"So do I. It just takes suspicion off you, and puts it on her. Won't the whole neighborhood be astonished when she is left in the lurch, knowing how she follows me up?"

"Oh, Richard, what a wonderful man you are!" said Judith, wild with delight. "Yes, I will be so sly that they never can find me out."

"They never shall. I mean to make that sure. See what I have brought you from the fair."

Here Storms unrolled a parcel that he had left under the cherry-trees before entering the house that evening, and cautiously stepping into the light of a window, unfolded a scarlet sacque and some dark cloth, such as composed the usually picturesque dress of Ruth Jessup.

"Oh, are these for me?" cried the girl, in an ecstasy of delight. "How soft and silk-like it is! Oh, Richard!"

"For you! Of course; but only to be worn when you come up yonder!"

"Oh!"

"That is, till after we are wed. Then you shall wear such things every day of the week, with silk dresses for Sunday. But, till then, don't let a living soul see one of these things. Keep 'em locked up like gold, and only put them on when you come to the lake at night, remember. I wouldn't for the world that any man or woman should see how like a queen they will make you look till they will have to say, at the same time, she is Richard Storms' wife."

"Oh, how sorry I am for having that bout with the mistress!" said Judith, hugging the bundle which he surrendered to her as if it had been a child she loved.

"But you must promise me, on your life, on your soul, to keep my fairing a close secret."

"I will! I will!"

"Without that to lay the whole thing on Jessup's daughter with, it wouldn't be safe for you to come to the park. The mistress would turn you away, if she heard of it. Then where should we land?"

"I will be careful. Believe me, I will."

"Especially about the dress."

"I know. I will be careful."

"Judith! Judith Hart!"

"Hush! The mistress is calling!" whispered Judith. "It is time to shut up the house. I will run up to my room and hide these; then help her side up, and come out again."

"No, no! That would be dangerous; but I would like to see how the dress looks. What if you put it on after the house is still, and come to the window with a light. I will walk about till then, and shall go home thinking that my sweetheart is the daintiest la.s.s in this village or the next."

"Would you be pleased? I shall be sure to put the dress on. Oh, how I have longed for one like it! Yes, yes! I will come to the window."

Judith uttered this a.s.surance, and darted into the house, in time to escape the landlady, who came to the back door just as she pa.s.sed up the stairs.

Storms did linger about the house until the company had withdrawn from it, and the lights were put out, all but one, which burned in the chamber of Judith Hart. A curtain hung before this window, behind which he could see shadows moving for some minutes. Then the curtain was suddenly withdrawn, and the girl stood fully revealed. The light behind her fell with brilliant distinctness on the scarlet jacket, and was lost in the darker shadows of her skirt. She had twisted back the curls from her face with graceful carelessness; but, either by art or accident, had given them the rippling waves that made Ruth Jessup's head so cla.s.sical.

"By Jove, but she's the very image of her!" exclaimed Storms, striking his leg with one hand. "No two sparrows were ever more alike."

This flash of excitement died out while Judith changed her position, and flung a kiss to him through the window.

For minutes after he stood staring that way, while a dull shudder pa.s.sed through him.

"She's too pretty, oh, too pretty for that!" he muttered. "I wish it hadn't come into my mind!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.

A WILD-FLOWER OFFERING.

When Webb entered his master's room, after the young wife had fled from it, he found the patient in a high state of excitement. The flash of his eye, and the vivid color in his cheeks, fairly frightened the good man, who dreaded, above all things, a second attack of the fever, which had already so nearly proved fatal.

"Help me to the couch; wheel it to the window. I want to look out; I want air!" said the young man, flinging himself half off the bed, and reeling toward the couch, on which he dropped, panting and so helpless that he could only enforce his first order by a gesture. Webb folded the dressing-gown over his master, and wheeled the couch close to the window.

"Open it! Open it!" gasped the young man, impatiently.

Webb threw open a leaf of the French window. Struggling to his elbow, young Hurst leaned out, scanning the flower-garden with bright and eager eyes. But the arm on which he leaned trembled with weakness, and soon gave way. His head fell upon the cushions, and his eyes closed wearily.

"I cannot see her," he murmured, under his breath. "I cannot see her.

She could not have escaped if it had been real. Ah, me! Why should dreams mock one so?"

"Let me close the window," said Webb, anxiously. "The air is too much for you."

"Yes, close it," answered Hurst, with a sigh; "but first look out, and tell me if you see any one moving among the flowers."

Webb stepped into the balcony and examined the grounds beneath it. As he did this, a gust of wind swept through the opposite door and carried with it a folded paper, which had fallen from the invalid's hand when he staggered up from the bed.

"No," said Webb, closing the window. "I see no one but a young woman going round to the servant's entrance."

"A young woman! Who is it? Who is it?"

"No one that I have seen before. Nay, now that I look again, it is the young woman from the public over in the village."

"What is she doing here?" questioned Hurst, impatiently.

"Come on some errand from her mistress to the housekeeper, most likely," answered Webb.

"At first I almost thought it was old Jessup's daughter; but for the lift of her head, and the swing in her walk, one might take her for that."