“I am glad you did. What does Mary say?” “She suffers severely--not physically, perhaps.” “I see. Do you know anything about Buckstone?” “He is in New York, I suppose. Mary had a letter from him the other day: what it was I don’t know.” “Send for Ross. I must see him to-night.” “Keep cool, Hungerford; the matter might be worse.” “I don’t think so,” replied Eugene, as he settled back in the carriage. From the window might be seen the improvements of Pine Hill. He did not look at them. The carriage stopped in front of his elegant mansion. He hardly glanced at it. They were nothing to him: Mary was all in all. CHAPTER IX. HEALING THE WOUNDS. “I see that what I have done does not suit you, Hungerford,” said Dick Birch, as the party entered the house. “You never made a greater mistake in your life, Dick; I am delighted with it,” replied Eugene. “Upon my word, you look delighted!” exclaimed Dick. “You took it all so coolly that I expected to be condemned for everything.” “I could not have done so well myself, if I had been here, Dick. You do me injustice. I entirely approve of all your arrangements.” Mrs. Hungerford was pleased with the house, and she expressed her satisfaction in her own matronly way. Julia was in ecstasies; and as they walked through the various apartments, she did not attempt to conceal her enthusiasm. Eugene’s thoughts were too busy with the affairs of Mary to permit him to be very deeply interested in the comforts, the luxuries, and the splendors of his new home; but a proper regard for the feelings of his friend, who had labored so diligently and faithfully in fitting up and furnishing the house, induced him to manifest an interest which he hardly felt. His taste in books, furniture, flowers, and pictures had been carefully regarded, and he was pleased with the devotion of Dick, if not greatly so with the work itself. “I spent a fortnight in the bookstores of Boston and New York, and I have put all your favorite authors on the shelves. But I have only used up half the space, and you can complete the collection yourself,” said Dick, when the ladies had gone to their apartments. “I see you have, Dick, and I am very grateful to you. Is Mary able to leave her room?” “Yes; I believe she walks out. What do you think of those pictures, Hungerford?” “They are entirely to my taste. You haven’t seen Mary you said?” “No; she is almost a stranger to me, and I could hardly thrust myself into her presence under the circumstances.” “Quite right, Dick.” “Do the carpets suit you?” “Entirely; they are beautiful styles. You said Mary had received a letter from Buckstone?” “Yes; but I have no idea of its contents. I was in doubt whether to have those chairs in the drawing-room in plush or damask.” “You did quite right, Dick. Your taste is unexceptionable. What does Ross say about Mary?” “Very little to me. I have left room in the conservatory for the ladies to please themselves, you perceive.”