Ida's sleep was almost as deep and quiet,and when her mother stole in to look at her from time to time the following morning,her face was as colorless,as if she had taken the drug which Van Berg's heel had ground into the earth;but Mrs.Mayhew observed with satisfaction that her respiration was as regular and natural as that of a little child.Wronged nature will,to a certain extent,forgive the young and restore to them the priceless treasures of health and strength they throw away.Ida had been a sad spendthrift of both lately,but now that the evil spell was broken,the poor worn body and mind sank into a long and merciful oblivion,during which a new life began to flow back from the,as yet,unexhausted fountain of youth.
She awoke late in the morning,and it was some moments before she could recall all that had happened.Then,as she remembered her dreadful purpose,there came a strong rush of grateful feeling that she HAD awakened--that life and its opportunities were still hers.
For a moment she portrayed to herself what she had supposed would have happened that day--she imagined herself lying white and still--the people coming and going on tiptoe and speaking in hushed tones,as if death were but a troubled and easily broken sleep;while they looked at her with faces in which curiosity and horror were equally blended;she saw her father staring at her in utter despair,and her mother trying,in a pitifully helpless way,to think how appearances might still be kept up and a little shred of respectability retained.She saw the artist looking at her with stern,white face,and heard him mutter:"What were you to me that you should commit this awful deed and lay it at my door,thus blighting a life full of the richest promise with your horrible shadow?""Thank God,thank God!"she cried passionately."It's all like a dreadful dream and never happened.""Why,Ida,what IS the matter?"said Mrs.Mayhew,coming in hastily.
"I had a bad dream,"said Ida,with something like a low sob.
"Ida,I want you to see the doctor,to-day.You haven't acted like yourself for over two weeks.""Mother,what time is it?"
"Ten o'clock and after."
"Please draw the curtain.I want to see the sunlight.""The sun is very hot to-day."
"Is it?"Then under her breath she murmured:"Thank God,so it is."She arose and began making her toilet slowly,for the languor of her long sleep and excessive fatigue was on her still.But thought was very busy.The subject uppermost in her mind was the promised visit to old Mr.Eltinge,and she resolved to go at once,if it were a possible thing.Mrs.Mayhew having again referred to her purpose of sending for a physician,Ida turned to her and said,decisively:
"Mother,do you not realize that I am not a child?What is the use of sending for a doctor when I will not see him?I ask--I insist that you and Mr.Stanton interfere with me no longer.""My goodness,Ida,shall not I,your own mother,take any care of you?""It is too late in the day now to commence taking care of me.You have permitted me to grow up so wanting in mental and moral culture that you naturally suspect me of the vilest action.Henceforth I take care of myself,and act for myself;"and she abruptly left the room and went to Mr.Burleigh's office,requesting that the light phaeton and a safe horse,such as she could drive,should be sent around to he door at once.
"Miss Ida,you've not been well.Do you think you had better go out in the heat of the day?"asked Mr.Burleigh,kindly.
She looked at him a moment,and then said,a little impulsively,"Mr.Burleigh,I thank you for speaking to me in that way.Yes,I wish to go,and think I shall be better for it."As she entered the large hall,Van Berg,who had been on the watch,rose to greet her,but she merely bowed politely and distantly,and passed at once into the dining room.After a hasty breakfast she returned to her room by a side passage,and prepared for her expedition,paying no heed to her mother's expostulations.
Van Berg was on the piazza when she came down,but she passed him swiftly,giving him no time to speak to her,and springing into the phaeton,drove away.His anxiety was so deep that he took pains to note the road she took,and then waited impatiently for her return.
After driving several miles,and making a few inquiries by the way,Ida found herself approaching an old-fashioned house secluded among the hills.
It was on a shady side road,into which but few eddies from the turbulent current of worldly life found their way.
The gate stood hospitably open,and she drove in under the shade of an enormous silver poplar,whose leaves fluttered in the breathless summer air,as if each one possessed a separate life of its own.
As she drew near to the house she saw old Mr.Eltinge coming from his garden to greet her.
"I had about given you up,"he said,"and so you are doubly welcome.
Old people are like children,and don't bear disappointments very well.""Did you really want to see me very much?"Ida asked,as he assisted her to alight.
"Yes,my child,"he replied,gravely,holding her hand in a strong,warm grasp."I felt,from your manner last evening,you were sincere.You come on an errand that is most pleasing to my Master,and I welcome you in his name as well as my own.""Perhaps if you knew all you would not welcome me,"she said in a low tone,turning away.
"Only for one cause could I withdraw my welcome,"he said,still more gravely.
"What is that?"she asked in a lower tone,not daring to look at him.
"If you are not sincere,"he replied,looking at her keenly.
Giving him her hand again,and looking up into his face,she said,earnestly:
"Mr.Eltinge,I am sincere.I could not be otherwise with you after your words last night.I come to you in great trouble,with a burdened heart and conscience,and I shall tell you everything,and then you must advise me,for I have no other friend to whom Ican go."
