CHAPTER XXI. ALICE AND ADAH. At Alice’s request, Adah and Sam staid altogether at Spring Bank, but Alice was the ruling power—Alice, the one whom Chloe and Claib consulted; Alice to whom Aunt Eunice looked for counsel, Alice, who remembered all the doctor’s directions, taking the entire charge of Hugh’s medicines herself—and Alice, who wrote to Mrs. Worthington, apprising her of Hugh’s illness. They hoped he was not dangerous, she said, but he was very sick, and Mrs. Worthington would do well to come at once. She did not mention ’Lina, but the idea never crossed her mind that a sister _could_ stay away from choice when a brother was so ill; and it was with unfeigned surprise that she one morning saw Mrs. Worthington and Lulu alighting at the gate, but no ’Lina with them. “She was so happy at Saratoga,” Mrs. Worthington said, when a little over the first flurry of her arrival. “So happy, too, with Mrs. Richards that she could not tear herself away, unless her mother should find Hugh positively dangerous, in which case she should, of course, come at once.” This was the mother’s charitable explanation, made with a bitter sigh as she recalled ’Lina’s heartless anger when the letter was received, as if Hugh were to blame, as indeed, ’Lina seemed to think he was. “What business had he to come home so quick? If he’d staid in New Orleans, he might not have had the fever. Any way, she wasn’t going home. Alice had said he was not dangerous yet, so if her mother went, that was enough;” and utterly forgetful of the many weary hours and days when Hugh had watched by her, the heartless girl had stifled every feeling of self reproach, and hurried her mother off, entrusting to her care a note for Alice, who, she felt, would wonder at her singular conduct. Giving the note to Alice, Mrs. Worthington hastened to her child, with whom Adah and Sam were sitting. He had just awakened from a quiet sleep, and knew his mother at once. Winding his arms around her, he kissed her forehead and lips, and then his eyes wandered past her towards the door through which she had entered, as if in quest of some one else. His mother did not observe the glance, or know for whom he was looking so wistfully until the white lips whispered, “’Lina, mother, where is she?” It was strange for him to call her ’Lina. Indeed, the mother could remember no other time when he had done so, but he called her ’Lina now, speaking it tenderly, as if her presence would be very welcome to him. There was a hesitancy on the part of the mother, and then she said, “’Lina staid in Saratoga. She is very happy there. She will come if you grow worse. She sent her love.” Poor Mrs. Worthington! She mentally asked forgiveness for this fabrication. ’Lina had sent no love, and the mother only said so because she must say something. Wistfully, eagerly, Hugh’s eyes sought hers for a moment, and then filled with tears which dropped upon the pillow.