It won't be so very bad, and he wants you to so
much."
Frightened as Edith was at Dr. Griswold's manner she could not
repress a smile at Nina's mistaken idea. Still she did NOT swear,
and all that night he continued talking incoherently of Arthur, of
Edith, of Nina, Geneva, Richard Harrington, and a thousand other
matters, mingling them together in such a manner that nothing
clear or connected could be made of what he said. In the morning
he was more quiet, but there was little hope of his life, the
physician said. From the first he had greatly desired to see
Arthur once more, and when his danger became apparent a telegram
had been forwarded to the wanderer, but brought back no response.
Another was sent, and another, the third one, in the form of a
letter, finding him far up the Red river, where in that sultry
season the air was rife with pestilence, which held with death
many a wanton revel, and would surely have claimed him for its
victim, but for the timely note which called him away.
Night and day, day and night, as fast as the steam-god could take
him, he traveled, his heart swelling with alternate hope and fear
as he neared the north-land, seeing from afar the tall heads of
the New England mountains, and knowing by that token that he was
almost home.
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