Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-02-20
DARK DAYS
BY HUGH CON W AY.
Author Of "Called Back"
CONTINUED from last aceeh. !

Listen, Philippa," said; II shall come
in with you and see this lady with whom
| you are staying. shall tell her | am your
brother; that for some time l have known
how shamefully your husband has neglected
you; and that now, with your full consent,
mean to take you away Whether this
woman believes in our relationship or not
matters nothing. suppose she knows that
man is coming tomorrow After his heart
less des, rtion, she cannot be surprised at
your wish to avoid meeting him."
PAUSED. Phiiippa bent her head as if as
Eenting to my plan
Tomorrow" I continued, 'long before
that wretch comes here to poison the very
air we breathe, L shall come and fetch you.
Early in the morning will nd my servant
for your luggage. Mrs. Wilson may know
me and my man by sight. That makes no
difference. There need be no concealment.
You are free to come and go. You have no
one to fear On Thursday morning we will
leave this place"
Yes" said Philippe, dreamily, 'to-mor-
row I will leave-I will come to you. But
| I will come alone. In the evening, most
likely, when no one will know where l have
gone"
But how much batter that should take
you away openly and in broad daylight, as
brother would take away a sister!"
ono; will come to you. You will not
mind waiting, Basil There is something 1
mus do first. Something to be done to-
morrow Something to be said; some one
to be seen. What is it? who is it? l cannot
recolect"
She placed her disengaged hand on her
| brow. She pushed back her head little
AMI gave sigh of relief as she felt the keen
air on her temples. Poor girl! after what
she had that day gone through, no wonder
her mind refused to recall trivial details
| and petty arrangements to be made before
she joined m. Sleep and the certainty Of
my sympathy and protection would no
doubt restore her wandering memory.
However, although l again and again
urged her TO change her mind she was firm
i'll her resolve to come to me alo e. At Last
very reluctantly, was obliged to give way
on this point; hut l was determined to see
this Mrs. Wilson tonight; so when We
re1ched the house | entered with Pnilippa.
| told her t! ere was occasion for her to
be present at my interview with the hostess
She looked fri ,htfully weary, ard at my
suggestion went straight to hel room TO re-
| tire for the night. l sat down and awaited
the advent Oh Mrs. Wilson. She soon APP
peared.
A woman of about five and thirty; well
but plainly dressed. AS l glanced at her
with some curiosity l decided that when
| young she must, after a certain typ of
beauty, been exceedingly good looking. I'm
| fortunately hers was one of those faces cast
in an aquiiine mold-faces which, as soon
as the bloom of youth is lost or the owners:
thereof turn to thinness, become, as a rule,
sharp, strained, hungry and severe looking.
| Whatever the woman's charms might once,
have been she could now boast of very few
There were lines around her mouth and
on her brow which told of suffering: and,
as l judged it, not the calm, resigned suffer-,
ing which often leaves a sweet if sad ex-
preston on the face, but fierce, rebellious,
constrained suffering, such as turns young
heart into an old one long before its time.
As she entered the room and bowed to me
her face expressed unlisguised surprise at
seeing visitor who was stranger to her.
l apologized for the lateness of my call, then
fastened to tell her It's object. She listened
with polite lmpassibility. She made no
comment when l repeatedly spoke of my So
styled sister as Lady Ferrand. 1t was clear
that, as Philippe had said Mrs. Wilson was
convinced as to the valid nature of the mar
riage l inveighed roundly against Sir
Mervyn Ferrand's heartless conduct and
scandaous neglect Of his wife. My nearer
shrugged her shoulders, and the meaning
conveyed by the action was that, although
she regretted family jars, they were no con-
Germ of hers. She seemed quite without in
terest in the matter; yet suspicion that she
was acting, indeed rather over-acting, a
part, crossed my mind once or twice.
When I told her it was Lady Ferrand's
intention to place herself to morrow under
my protnptiGO Sla cip1nly hcwa] Whom
said that most likely we should leave Eng
land, and for while travel on the continent.
she SAID that my sisters health would no
doubt be much benefited by the change.
81 may MENTION" she added for the first
time taking any real part in the talk, ''that
your sisters state is not quite all it should
be. For the last day Or two [ have been
thinking of sending for the medical man
who attended her during her unfortunate
confinement. He has not seen her for quite
a week l mentioned it to her this fternoon,
but she appears to have taken an unaccount-
able dislike to him, and utterly refused to
see him. | do not wish to alarm you-l
merely mention this; no doubt you, her
brother, will see to it,"
The peculiar stress she laid upon the word
"brother' told me that L was right in think
ing the woman was acting, and that not for
| ollS IN my dSSuLI1u Ido5l my ~
ceive her. This was of no consequence.
81 am myself a doctor. Her health will
be my care" I said. Then | arose.
"You are related to Sir Mervyn Ferrand,
believe, Mrs. Wilson, I asked
She gave ma a quick look which might
mean anything.
1--WE are connections" she said, care,
lessly.
you Isust have been surprised at his
sending his wife away at such q time?"
81 am not in the haiti of feelin surprised
at Sir Mervyn's actions. He wrote to NE
and told me that, knowing my circum-
stances were strataned, he had recon-
mended laly to come and live with me for
a few months. When I found this lady was
his wife, 1 own l was, for once surprised u
From the emphasis which she laid on Ger
tain words I knew it was but the fact of
Philippa's being married to the scoundrel
that surprised her, nothing else. l could
see that Mrs Wilson knew Sir Mervyn Fer
rand thoroughly, and something told me
that her relations with him We're of nature
which might not bear investigation.
babe her goodnight, and walked back tc
my cottage with heart in which sorrow.
pity, love, hatred, exultation, and, it may