North of Fifty-Three | Page 9

forfeited that from her.
Nevertheless she kept thinking of him long after she went to bed. She
was not at all vindictive, and his misfortune, the fact--if the report were
true--that he was facing his end, stirred her pity. She could guess that
he would suffer more than some men; he would rebel bitterly against
anything savoring of extinction. And she reflected that his love for her
was very likely gone by the board now that he was elected to go the
way of all flesh.
The report of his injury was verified in the morning papers. By evening
it had pretty well passed out of Hazel's mind. She had more pleasant
concerns. Jack Barrow dropped in about six-thirty to ask if she wanted
to go with him to a concert during the week. They were sitting in the
parlor, by a front window, chattering to each other, but not so
engrossed that they failed to notice a carriage drawn by two splendid

grays pull up at the front gate. The footman, in brown livery, got down
and came to the door. Hazel knew the carriage. She had seen Mr.
Andrew Bush abroad in it many a time. She wondered if there was
some further annoyance in store for her, and frowned at the prospect.
She heard Mrs. Stout answer the bell in person. There was a low
mumble of voices. Then the landlady appeared in the parlor doorway,
the footman behind her.
"This is the lady." Mrs. Stout indicated Hazel. "A message for you,
Miss Weir."
The liveried person bowed and extended an envelope. "I was instructed
to deliver this to you personally," he said, and lingered as if he looked
for further instructions.
Hazel looked at the envelope. She could not understand why, under the
circumstances, any message should come to her through such a
medium. But there was her name inscribed. She glanced up. Mrs. Stout
gazed past the footman with an air of frank anticipation. Jack also was
looking. But the landlady caught Hazel's glance and backed out the
door, and Hazel opened the letter.
The note was brief and to the point:
MISS WEIR: Mr. Bush, being seriously injured and unable to write,
bids me say that he is very anxious to see you. He sends his carriage to
convey you here. His physicians fear that he will not survive the night,
hence he begs of you to come. Very truly,
ETHEL B. WATSON, Nurse in Waiting.
"The idea! Of course I won't! I wouldn't think of such a thing!" Hazel
exclaimed.
"Just a second," she said to the footman.
Over on the parlor mantel lay some sheets of paper and envelopes. She

borrowed a pencil from Barrow and scribbled a brief refusal. The
footman departed with her answer. Hazel turned to find Jack staring his
puzzlement.
"What did he want?" Barrow asked bluntly. "That was the Bush turnout,
wasn't it?"
"You heard about Mr. Bush getting hurt, didn't you?" she inquired.
"Saw it in the paper. Why?"
"Nothing, except that he is supposed to be dying--and he wanted to see
me. At least--well, read the note," Hazel answered.
Barrow glanced over the missive and frowned.
"What do you suppose he wanted to see you for?" he asked.
"How should I know?" Hazel evaded.
She felt a reluctance to enter into any explanations. That would
necessitate telling the whole story, and she felt some delicacy about
relating it when the man involved lay near to death. Furthermore, Jack
might misunderstand, might blame her. He was inclined to jealousy on
slight grounds, she had discovered before now. Perhaps that, the natural
desire to avoid anything disagreeable coming up between them, helped
constrain her to silence.
"Seems funny," he remarked slowly.
"Oh, let's forget it." Hazel came and sat down on the couch by him. "I
don't know of any reason why he should want to see me. I wouldn't go
merely out of curiosity to find out. It was certainly a peculiar request
for him to make. But that's no reason why we should let it bother us. If
he's really so badly hurt, the chances are he's out of his head. Don't
scowl at that bit of paper so, Johnnie-boy."
Barrow laughed and kissed her, and the subject was dropped forthwith.
Later they went out for a short walk. In an hour or so Barrow left for

home, promising to have the concert tickets for Thursday night.
Hazel took the note out of her belt and read it again when she reached
her room. Why should he want to see her? She wondered at the man's
persistence. He had insulted her, according to her view of it--doubly
insulted her with threats and an enforced caress. Perhaps he merely
wanted to beg her pardon; she had heard of men