During the time that Mr. Plaisted was staying with the Sherwoods, Gussie had been very cool to Hugh McNeil.  As the former was about to leave the city, Gussie thought it time to recall her old “stand-by,” and was surprised to find that Hugh was less ready to return to her side than formerly.  A feeling of jealousy arose in her heart when she saw that Hugh’s attentions were transferred to Dexie.

Hugh had not ceased to come in during the evenings, as usual, even though Gussie was cool and abrupt with him.  Not wishing Hugh to feel hurt by the change in her sister, Dexie had talked to him, and had played and whistled for his amusement, till the little spark of kindly regard which had formerly represented his feelings for Dexie was fast being fanned into a flame of passion by these little attentions, which were bestowed in a friendly way, and for her sister’s sake.

Dexie was not aware of the change in Hugh McNeil until Mr. Plaisted had left the city, and she was surprised and displeased to see that Hugh now ignored Gussie’s presence almost as much as Gussie had his when Mr. Plaisted was near, and turned to her instead.

It was hard to define her true feelings, but when she understood that Hugh had mistaken her friendliness, her whole being seemed to rise up in a vigorous protest.  As it is “an ill wind that blows nobody good,” Lancy was made happy again by Dexie’s presence.  She no longer sought to evade him, and her soft, rippling laughter, mingling with the low tones of Lancy’s voice, was again heard as they lingered over the piano together.

This made Hugh mad with jealousy, and the fact became so plain to Dexie that her manner was even more gracious to Lancy when Hugh was by to observe it.

But Hugh’s sturdy Scotch nature came to the front, and he made a mental resolve to win her in spite of everything; even his master’s son should not take Dexie from him.  He would wait, but would not vex her by pressing his suit at present when it seemed so distasteful to her; she might smile on someone else instead of Lancy, then he could watch her less easily.  He would not meddle with the existing state of things.

Yet he had one bit of comfort given him.  He it was who hastily appeared in the Sherwood household one morning with the startling intelligence of the assassination of President Lincoln.

The events “at home” were closely watched by all the family, and this unexpected calamity, just at this time, was as much of a blow to them as to those nearer the scene of strife.

Hugh had always been “Mr. McNeil” to Dexie.  She had never used the more familiar name, as the rest of the family were in the habit of doing; but when she heard him tell his news, she caught his arm, and exclaimed: 

“Oh, Hugh! do you think it is true, or only a report?  Tell us, quickly!” and she looked eagerly into his face, as if to read the truth there.

Hugh longed to clasp the hand that rested on his arm for a moment, for during all their intercourse she had never called him “Hugh,” and it thrilled his heart as it fell from her lips.  He wished that he might be the bearer of any news, however unwelcome, if it would cause her to forget her reserve and repeat again that little word “Hugh.”