a basket-full!—to Mrs. Rowland’s: so you must get up. Mamma is getting up already.”
The sisters were vexed to have been thrown into a terror for nothing; but it was a great relief to find Mr. Grey prophesying fine weather for the excursion. Nothing could have happened to cast a doubt over it. Margaret, too, now began to think that the mystery might turn out a trifle; and she threw up the sash, to let in the fresh air, with a gaiety of spirits she had little expected to feel.
Another tap at the door. It was Morris, with the news that it was a fine morning, that the whole house was astir, and that she had no further news to tell.
Another tap before they were half-dressed. It was Mrs. Grey, with a face quite as sorrowful as on the preceding evening, and the peculiar nervous expression about the mouth—which served her instead of tears.
“Have you done with Morris yet, my dears?”
“Morris, you may go,” said Hester, steadily.
Mrs. Grey gazed at her with a mournful inquisitiveness, while she spoke; and kept her eyes fixed on Hester throughout, though what she said seemed addressed to both sisters.
“There is something the matter, Mrs. Grey,” continued Hester, calmly. “Say what it is. You had better have told us last night.”
“I thought it best not to break your sleep, my dears. We always think bad news is best told in the morning.”
“Tell us,” said Margaret. Hester quietly seated herself on the bed.
“It concerns our valued friend, Mr. Hope,” said Mrs. Grey. Hester’s colour had been going from the moment Mrs. Grey entered the room: it was now quite gone; but she preserved her calmness.
“He was safe when Sydney lost sight of him, on the ridge of the hill, on the Dingleford road; but he afterwards had an accident.”
“What kind of accident?” inquired Margaret.
“Is he killed?” asked Hester.
“No, not killed. He was found insensible in the road. The miller’s boy observed his horse, without a rider, plunge into the river below the dam, and swim across; and another person saw the pony Sydney had been riding, grazing with a side-saddle on, on the common. This made them search, and they found Mr. Hope lying in the road insensible, as I told you.”
“What is thought of his state?” asked Margaret.
“Two medical men were called immediately from the nearest places, and Mr. Grey saw them last night; for the news reached us while you were at the piano, and we thought—”
“Yes but what do the medical men say?”
“They do not speak very favourably. It is a concussion of the brain. They declare the case is not hopeless, and that is all they can say. He has not spoken yet; only just opened his eyes: but we are assured the case is not quite desperate; so we must hope for the best.”
“I am glad the case is not desperate,” said Hester. “He would be a great loss to you all.”
Mrs. Grey looked at her in amazement, and then at Margaret. Margaret’s eyes were full of tears. She comprehended and respected the effort her sister was making.
“Oh, Mrs. Grey!” said Margaret, “must we go to-day? Surely it is no time for an excursion of pleasure.”
“That must be as you feel disposed, my dears. It would annoy Mrs. Rowland very much to have the party broken up; so much so, that some of us must go: but my young people will do their best to fill your places, if you feel yourselves unequal to the exertion.” She looked at Hester as she spoke.
“Oh, if anybody goes, we go, of course,” said Hester. “I think you are quite right in supposing that the business of the day must proceed. If there was anything to be done by staying at home—if you could make us of any use, Mrs. Grey, it would be a different thing: but—”
“Well, if there is nothing in your feelings which—if you believe yourselves equal to the exertion—”
Margaret now interposed. “One had rather stay at home and be quiet, when one is anxious about one’s friends: but other people must be considered, as we seem to be agreed—Mr. and Mrs. Rowland, and all the children. So we will proceed with our dressing, Mrs. Grey. But can you tell us, before you go, how soon—How soon we shall know;—when this case will probably be decided?”
It might be a few hours, or it might be many days, Mrs. Grey said. She should stay at home to-day, in case of anything being sent for from the farmhouse where Mr. Hope was lying. He was well attended—in the hands of good nurses—former patients of his own: but something might be wanted; and orders had been left by Mr. Grey that application should be made to his house for whatever could be of service: so Mrs. Grey could not think of leaving home. Mr. Grey would make inquiry at the farmhouse as the party went by to the woods: and he would just turn his horse back in the middle of the day, to inquire again: and thus the Rowlands’ party would know more of Mr. Hope’s state than those who remained at home. Having explained, Mrs. Grey quitted the room, somewhat disappointed that Hester had received the disclosure so well.
The moment the door was closed, Hester sank forward on the bed, her face hidden, but her trembling betraying her emotion.
“I feared this,” said Margaret, looking mournfully at her sister.
“You feared what?” asked Hester, quickly, looking up.
“I feared that some accident had happened to Mr. Hope.”
“So did I.”
“And if,” said Margaret, “I feared something else—Nay, Hester, you must let me speak. We must have no concealments, Hester. You and I are alone in the world, and we must comfort each other. We agreed to this. Why should you be ashamed of what you feel? I believe that you have a stronger interest in this misfortune than any one in the world; and why—”
“How do you mean, a stronger interest?” asked Hester, trying to command her voice. “Tell me what you mean, Margaret.”
“I mean,” said Margaret, steadily, “that no one is so much attached to Mr. Hope as you are.”
“I think,” said Margaret, after a pause, “that Mr. Hope has a high respect and strong regard for you.” She paused again, and then added, “If I believed anything more, I would tell you.”
When Hester could speak again, she said, gently and humbly, “I assure you, Margaret, I never knew the state of my own mind till this last night. If I had been aware—”
“If you had been aware, you would have been unlike all who ever really loved, if people say true. Now that you have become aware, you will act as you can act—nobly—righteously. You will struggle with your feelings till your mind grows calm. Peace will come in time.”
“Do you think there is no hope?”
“Consider his state.”
“But if he should recover? Oh, Margaret, how wicked all this is! While he lies there, we are grieving about me! What a selfish wretch I am!”
Margaret had nothing to reply, there seemed so much truth in this. Even she reproached herself with being exclusively anxious about her sister, when such a friend might be dying; when a life of such importance to many was in jeopardy.
“I could do anything, I could bear anything,” said Hester, “if I could be sure that nobody knew. But you found me out, Margaret, and perhaps—”
“I assure you, I believe you are safe,” said Margaret. “You can hide nothing from me. But, Mrs. Grey—and nobody except myself, has watched you like Mrs. Grey—has gone away, I am certain, completely deceived. But, Hester! my own precious sister, bear with one word from me! Do not trust too much to your pride.”
“I do trust to my pride, and I will,” replied Hester, her cheeks in a glow. “Do you suppose I will allow all in this house,