The wind again played mad pranks4 with Lottie's hair as she at last stood impatiently on the piazza5, and then dashed off through the snow to meet them.
"O, thank God, you are safely back. But Miss Martell—she is not—she is not—"
"Don't suggest such a thing," groaned6 Harcourt. "Of course she has only fainted."
Hemstead could not speak, even to Lottie. With white face and set teeth he sought to keep up to the end. The effort he was now putting forth7 was less that of muscle than sheer force of will. As with Miss Martell, he, too, was reacting from the tremendous strain that the last hour had brought. He trembled with almost mortal weakness as he slowly mounted the piazza steps. He staggered under his share of their burden as he crossed the hall. Lottie, puzzled by his silence, now saw his deathly pallor with alarm, and instinctively8 stood at his side.
"You had better take Miss Martell directly to her room," said Mrs.
Marchmont.
"In here, quick," gasped9 Hemstead. He tottered10 to the nearest sofa, and, a second later, lay unconscious at Miss Martell's feet.
At this moment Alice again became conscious. Hemstead's condition did more to revive her than all restoratives; for, woman-like, she thought of him more than herself. She sat up and exclaimed faintly: "O, can't something be done for him? Quick. It looks as if he had given his life for us"; and she looked around, not far enough to see the expression of Harcourt's face as he welcomed her back to consciousness, but only to see Addie clinging to his arm, repeatedly asking to be assured that he was not hurt.
"Thank heaven you are safe," he bent11 down and whispered.
"Don't think of me. Look at Mr. Hemstead."
Again he misunderstood her, and with bitterness thought, "After all my anguish12 on her account, she gives me not even a thought, and her first words are, 'Don't think of me';" and he felt that fate had been very cruel in sending Hemstead to her rescue instead of himself.
Mrs. Marchmont now appeared upon the confused scene, and proved that she was equal to the occasion. It was a sad pity that she had not imparted to her daughter a little of her own capability13. She bade De Forrest, and the still stout14 and hearty15 ex-sailor, carry Hemstead at once to his room, while she and one of the maids assisted Miss Martell to hers. No opportunity whatever was given for any romantic and affecting scenes.
Lottie had stood for a second in dismay, after seeing her "true knight16" sink on the floor, and then, like a sensible girl, instead of going off into hysterics, went like a flash to her aunt's wine-closet for brandy. But before she could find it Mrs. Marchmont had caused both the rescued and the rescuer to be conveyed to the privacy of their own rooms, where they could at once receive the prosaic17 treatment that their condition required.
The room which a moment before had presented a scene which she would never forget was empty, Harcourt having gone for a physician.
She met Mr. Dimmerly on the stairs, who took the brandy from her, saying: "That's sensible. We'll rub him down with it, inside and out, and he'll be all right in the morning. Now you see how blood tells. Making a parson of him can't change the fact of his coming from an old family. He has been as brave to-night as the Dimmerlys were a thousand years ago."
But Lottie was not a bit interested in the millennial18 Dimmerlys, and, putting her arms around her uncle's neck in a way that surprised that ancient fossil, she coaxed19:
"Won't you promise me, uncle, that as soon as he is safe you will come out and let me know?"
"Safe! He's safe now. Who ever heard of even a half-blooded Dimmerly dying from a mere20 faint? Old age is the only disease that runs in our family, my dear. But I will let you know as soon as he is comfortably asleep. I am going to make my proper parson nephew almost drunk, for once in his life; and you needn't expect to see him much before ten o'clock to-morrow."
Lottie, finding her services were not needed in Miss Martell's room, went down to the kitchen, where she found the half-frozen oarsman-now rigged out in the dress-coat and white vest of the colored waiter—and the brave coachman who had put his old sea-craft to such good use. They were being royally cared for by the cook and laundress. The poor fellow who out in the boat had thought that the hearts of even his neighbors were as cold and hard as the ice that was destroying them had now forgotten his misanthropy, and was making a supper that, considering the hour, would threaten to an ordinary mortal more peril21 than that from which he had escaped. She drew from him—and especially from the coachman—the narrative22 of their thrilling experience, and every moment Hemstead grew more heroic in her eyes.
"Bless you, miss," said the bluff23 ex-sailor, his tongue a little loosened by the whiskey he had taken as an antidote24 for the cold and wet, "there's stuff enough in him to make a hundred such as t'other young gentleman as wouldn't go. Sudden spells, like that he had t'other night, is all he'll ever be 'stinguished for, I'm a-thinking. But I ax your pardon, miss."
"I can forgive you anything to-night, my brave fellow," said Lottie, blushing. "Though you have given Mr. Hemstead so much credit, he will give you more to-morrow. Take this and get something to remember this evening by"; and she slipped a twenty-dollar bank-note into his hand.
"Now bless your sweet eyes!" exclaimed the man, ducking and bobbing with bewildering rapidity; "it's your kindness that'll make me remember the evening to my dying day."
"How could you speak so of Mr. De Forrest, when the young leddy is engaged to him?" said the cook, reproachfully, after Lottie had gone.
"No matter," said the ex-sailor, stoutly25. "I've had it on my conscience to give her a warnin'. I hadn't the heart to see such a trim little craft run into shallow water, and hoist26 no signal. If she was my darter, she'd have to mitten27 that lubber if he was wuth a million."
As Lottie passed through the hall with silent tread, she saw that De Forrest was in the parlor28, and to escape him continued on up to her room, musing29 as she went: "What a strange blending of weakness and strength Mr. Hemstead is! Well, I should like that. I should like a man to be as strong as Samson generally, but often so weak that he would have to lean on me."
Whom did Lottie mean by that indefinite word "man"? It did not occur to her that there was a very definite image in her mind of one who was pale and exhausted30, and whom it would now be a dear privilege to nurse back into strength and vigor31.
She met her uncle and the physician in the upper hall, and the latter said: "Mr. and Miss Martell are doing as well as could be expected, when we consider the fearful ordeal32 they have passed through. As far as I can foresee, a few days' rest and quiet will quite restore them."
"And Mr.—Mr. Hemstead?" faltered33 Lottie, the color mounting into her face, that anxiety had made unwontedly pale.
"The brave fellow who rescued them? Now he is the right kind of a dominie,—not all white choker and starch34. No fear about him, Miss Marsden. He's made of good stuff, well put together. A night's rest and a warm breakfast, and he will be himself again"; and the old doctor bustled35 away.
"What delightful36 prose!" thought Lottie, and she tripped lightly to her room and kissed the sullen37 and offended Bel good night; and, very grateful and at peace with all the world, soon fell asleep.
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 sobbing38, 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 heroism39. But either his exhaustion40 was greater than the physician had believed, or his uncle's sedatives41 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 assurances 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 barometer42, and suggested that the day might not pass serenely43.
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 luxurious44 lounge was wheeled near the blazing wood fire, and on this Miss Mar-tell was tenderly placed by her father, who, in joyful45 gratitude46, could scarcely take his eyes from her pale face. Beyond the natural languor47 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 impulsive48 girl's warm heart was so full of admiration49 for what he had done that she longed to show him her appreciation50 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 crimson51 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 assert itself, and now he stood in the centre of the floor, the most angular and helpless of mortals.
De Forrest looked at him with disdain52, and thought, "I would like to show him how a gentleman ought to act under the circumstances."
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 graceful53 complacency, a gratitude that quite overwhelmed the man of deeds.
Hemstead's confusion was so great as even to embarrass Miss Martell for a moment, and her face, from reminding one of a lily, suddenly suggested an exquisite54 pink rose. But before he was aware she had ensconced him in an easy chair at her side, and with a tact55 peculiarly her own had rallied his panic-stricken faculties56 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 recurred57 to her with the force of an ominous58 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 slaughter59. 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 eulogy60, Hemstead with an expression of intense annoyance61 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 anticipated that she was disappointed above measure, and before he could collect his scattered62 wits she left the room.
"And so it all ends," she thought bitterly, as she chafed63 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 circumstances, 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 invalids64; but Miss Martell did not know this, and his coming now seemed a little dilatory65, considering all they had passed 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 shore 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 distressed66 her during part of a sleepless67 night and all the morning.
Moreover, when he entered, Addie had pounced68 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 tinge69 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 circumstances 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 assistance. To De Forrest he gave scarcely a thought, having accurately70 estimated that superficial youth's light weight. But that Harcourt, the son of his old and dear friend, should have so failed in manly71 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 feigned72 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, complacently73, "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 shore, 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 plank74, 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 surmised75 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 unobserved, 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 morbid76 anxiety to appear well.
Lottie saw his dilemma77, 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 quenched78 poor Hemstead that he did not venture another syllable79; 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 constraint80.
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1
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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capability
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| n.能力；才能；(pl)可发展的能力或特性等 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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millennial
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| 一千年的，千福年的 | |
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coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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antidote
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| n.解毒药，解毒剂 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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mitten
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| n.连指手套，露指手套 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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33
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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sedatives
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| n.镇静药，镇静剂( sedative的名词复数 ) | |
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barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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51
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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55
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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63
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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invalids
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| 病人，残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
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dilatory
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| adj.迟缓的，不慌不忙的 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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78
quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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