Country air won't do me any good. I shall
die of consumption, just as mother said." And as if she saw indeed
the little grave, on which the next summer's sun would shine, she
hid her face in her husband's bosom, and sobbed aloud. Instantly a
dark thought flashed upon Eugenia--a thought which even _she_
would not harbor, and casting it aside, she drew nearer to the
weeping Ella, striving by an increased tenderness of manner to
atone for having dared to think of a time when the little willow
chair on the balcony would be empty, and Howard Hastings free.
Soon rallying, Ella feigned to smile at her discomposure, saying
that "consumption had been preached to her so much that she always
felt frightened at the slightest pain in her side," thoughtlessly
adding, as she glanced at her husband, "I wonder if Howard would
miss me any, were I really to die."
A dark shadow settled upon Mr. Hastings's face, but he made no
reply; and Eugenia, who was watching him, fancied she could read
his thoughts; but when they at last started for home, and she saw
how tenderly he wrapped a warm shawl around his delicate young
wife, who insisted upon going with them, she felt that however
frivolous and uncompanionable Ella might be, she was Howard
Hastings's wife, and, as such, he would love and cherish her to
the last.
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