The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-07-05
CHAPTER ".


life STIRLING FEAR, SOUL sTIFLING SHAME"
Grace spent the day In apprehension, expect
ing some sign from her betr0thed-a letter de-
hvered secretly-a messenger asking to see her
some token that he was near at hand, and had
come to that neigh borhood on her account. AS
the day wore without bringing any such
token, her fears and perpleXties increased rather
than diminished. She thought that he was lying
somewhere; under hedge, or to leeward of
haystack perhaps; TOO i'll, TO weak to crawl to
better shelter; helpless, penniless friendless,
sick and dying; while she who had sworn to love
and cherish him was lolling in a luxurious easy
chair beside the br ght hearth in her dainty little
den, surrounded by dollhouse flowers, and new
books, and an Erard piano. and all the best and
prettiest things that money buy. Her gen
erous, tender heart the heart which gricved
even for slaughtered foxes. was sorely tortured
by the picture Of his destution by the bitter con
trast between her fate and his. 1t was not be-
cause she loved him that she was so sad for his
sake. She no longer loved him. That foolish,
romantic fancy of hers, born of the dleness Of
school girls life in a strange land, that childish
dream had died long ago. For nearly year
past that secret engagement had been q terror
and burden for her. She had lOnged ardently
for some way of escape She prayed that her
godfather might succeed in undoing the knot she
had tied for herself. Yet she could not put
away the vision of that pale face, those haegard
eyes and hollow cheeks face which to her
troubled imagination seemed like the image of
death itself.
All through the long afternoon she sat in her
own room, expectant, anXious-much too anxious
to employ herself In any way. trembling at every
footstep in the corridor, lest It should announce
a messenger from Canilac. Five, six, seven
o'clock struck from her little time piece. and
still there was no news. She had not gone down
to afternoon tea, shrinking at the sight of her
father and Lady Darnel; but she knew that she
must go down to dinner or else excite every
bodys wonder She not the kind of girl to
take to her bed after early run with the
hounds. So she dressed and went down to the
drawing room, and went in to dinner with the
rest of the family, and sat in torture all dinner
time, expecting every time footman approached
her that he was coming to deliver some mysteIi-
Gus message. But the dinner came to an end
and no such message reached her
Sir Allan began to yawn directly they got
back to the drawing room. He had been up to
London and back the day before--he had been
in the saddle at half past four that morning
The Colonel and Grace yawned in concert. 1t
chorus of stlfed yawns.
IF you hunting people are so sleepy you had
really better 60 to bed, exclaimed Dora, irrita-
bly,.
She was one of those Objectionable persons
who are never sleepy. She was III tho habit of
playing classical music to the family of an even
ing, and liked her people TO listen and admire.
Dora is right said Sir Allan. Il am only a
nuisance here, so I'll say good night"
The Colonel and Grace followed suit. Lady
Darnel said she had some letters to write and
knew that even when he sleeping her hus-
band liked her to be near him; and her pretty
morning room adjoined his bedroom.
you won't mind my DESERVING you, will vou
DoraW she asked sweetly. knowing that Miss
Darnel detested early hours
Dora replied in her bandest tones She could
amuse herself for an hour two with Beetho
ven If the noise of the piano would not disturb
them upstairs.
1--WE shall not hear it, but it would be very
nice if we did" said Lady Darnel
They all went away, and Do.a lad tho spa.
cious drawing room all TO herself. It was
frightened by glowing fire of coal and logs
and by the light of lamps under colored shades
and it was beautiSed by masses of hot house
bloom in great majolica Jars of blue, and yellow.
and Dull Indian red. 1t was in all respects as
delightful a room as the heart of woman could
desire; and yet its spaciousness gave an idea of
desolation and abandonment when only one per
son was left in occupation.
Dora began a rondo of Beethoven's. but she
played listlessly, without fire. without expression,
and before she had played three pages her fingers
We're lying idle on the keys as the player sank
into deep reverie.
She was reused from her thoughtful abstrac-
ton by sQHd on the terrace outside-a sound
that seemed like the tread of feet upon the gray
ell She ran to one of the windows and lifted the
edge of the blind and looked out into the dark
ness with her face close against the glass The
night was pitchy dark. She could see nothing
Then she opened the easement, and listened
intently for some II lnutes, but there was no re-
currence of the sound which had startled her
Still she was not satisfied. She rang for
servant. and told him to go out upon the terrace
and see if there was anyone lurking about
Il certainly heard footsteps" she said, about
ten minutes ago"
The footman had a family incredulous air.
though he was too we'll bred to express his unbe-
lief. He went into the hall, slowly and labori-
ously withdrew the bolts Of the great door
strolled out upon the terrace and walked about
three yards III each direction. The ,tight was SO
dark that regiment might have been in am
bush at either end Of the terrace and the foot
man would have been none the wiser. He came
back to the drawing-room and assured Miss
Darnel that there was not mortal on the ter
race or in the Italian garden; and then he went
back to the seryants's hall and enlarged upon