The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1882-10-08
CHAPTER III.
TnE FIRST CLOUD RISES.

The dusk Of the short September even
ing was falling fast, the shadows were
gathering over the sea, and turning the
heaving waters into Slale-grey: and "A
thin autumnal mist had crept up and
lay like gossamer web over every OBJ
ject, chilling the air which had lately
been so bright and warm.
Erica sat by the window of the library
at Grayle House, her hands lying idly
on her lap, her dark eyes, grave and
even sad in repose, gazing out over the
expanse of rock-girt sea. She was mus
ing over many things-over the glimpse
that Philip had given her Of his unloved
boyhood and early manhood, grieving
over the wrong done him and the we'll
nigh irretrievable havoc created in a
nature still so noble, so capable of
commanding love- unconsciously almost
comparing him with Arnold, who had
been loved and petted from his birth.
And what was he? Weakness was
the least of his faults, for he was both
selfish and headstrong, and uncon-
trolled. Shallow of nature, yet possess
ing a certain brightness and lovableness
Of temperament, which blinded many
to his failings, he had just passed
through college, without much credit to
himself, and deeply in debt, and he was
now abroad as far as Erica knew.
The bitter sting that poisoned all
Erica's happiness was the knowledge
that Arnold Murray was no honor to
his name or hers. This was what she
shrank from telling Philip. Philip,
whose notions of honor were so sternly,
fastidiously strict, who counted an in
fringement of honor the blacklist sin,
and made but little allowance, perhaps,
for temptations; and who. if lie knew
Arnold's career, would have at once
parted her from him, nor have suffered
his wife to hold any communication
with man who has no high reputation
for spotless honor. Not in his own
loved brother even would he have for
given any fall from aobleSSe. lie had
said to him, not sternly, but with a
steadfastness in tone and look that
Walter had understood, when the
younger brother was going up TO Ok
ford.
you are very dear to me Walter, but
on the day that you forget that you are
gentleman and a st. John, | shall for
get that have brother"
How then could Erica fulfil the oath
she had made that day marked out in
her life as in letters of fire? Was she
not TO guard Arnold, TO protect himi
Had not already her duties FLASHED? nc
Der the sacredness of that oath was alb
solute; she could conceive of nothing
which should justify her in breaking it
she had bravely suffered in silence
tacitly deceiving her husband, deemLne
such deception the lesser Of two wrongs
So the girl unused sadly enough this
chill September evening. dimly con
Scious of the mOnotonous mutter Of the
waves on the rocks, and the swift
scratching Of Philips pen as it flew
over the paper. He sat writing at thu
table, but not 50 absorbed in his worl
that he did not observe her silence anC
abstraction. Perhaps, after all, it was
a dull life he had bound her to, welded
to man ten years older than herself
he thought-nay, scarcely thought, fol
the vague suggestion of which he was
simply conscious never framed itself t.
anything so tangible even as thought.
He threw down the pen at last, anC
rose up, coming over to where she sat
ut is too dark to see, ~ he said, land
am but dull companion for you
Erica. You are very silent and triSt
tonight"
She started from her reverie, and col
oring little pushed her hands through
the Wavy hair that fell about her. -.
II thought you were busy" she said
half ALPHABETICALLY. "Shall l ring TO
lights"
"No, not just yet, unless you wan
them; 1t is pleasant resting thus" an
sWered Philip, leaning against the win
out tomorrow morning; l can post |
myself tonight. am getting restless
Erica, to 90 back to work and life"
"You are true Londoner," SAT-
Erica, laughing; ''you cannot be happ.
long parted from beloved pavement
and delightful designations"
I'm which, apprehend my wild sea
gull Is longing to join, Philip said will
q smile.
II shall be dreadfully unworldly,
am afraid. Philip." said Erica. siQhinr
e6onAhneand1