Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-02-27

wnere had [ beena What had L been
ioing!'
"You came straight from Mrs. Wilson's.
suppose. know no more"
| Then she sighed and turned her head
| away; but l soon found her troubled dark
| eyes again fixed on my own. I could do
nothing but meet their gaze bravely, and
pray that my poor love might never, never
| be able to fill those hours which were at
present blank to her.
| At last exactly fortnight from the fatal
| day. we left my home. l was now what is
| legally termed an accessory after the act,
and was making every effort to save the
| poor girl from justice. In order to avert
| suspicion, decided it was better not to shut
I'D my house; so l left the faithful William
| to take care of it, and await my instruc-
| tions. At esant it was advisable that any
| inquirers should learn that 1 had gone to
| London with my sister, and that the time
| of our return was uncertain. By and by,
| if all went well, l could get rid of my cot
tage in an ordinary way. l, for one, should
never wish to visit the place again.
PhiIippa acquiesced in all my arrange
ments. She was quite willing to accompany
me to town. She trusted me with childish
simplicity "But, Basil, afterward-wha
afterwards" she askel
Even in the midst of the menacing peril ii
was all l could do to refrain from kneeling
at her feet and telling her that my love
would solve the question of the future.
al have surprise for you in London"
said, as cheerfully as l could. "Trust
yourself to me; you will not regret it."
She took my hand. "Whom else have ]
to trust?" she said simply. Basil, you
have been very good to me. I have made
IL =.
ba1 shall never forget. these days.
Her eyes were full of tears I kissed her
hand reverently, and told her that when !
saw the old smile back upon her lips, all ]
hal done would be thousand times repaid
but as spoke trembled at the thought OF
what might be in store for both of u.s.
We drove to Roding. and were perforce
obliged to take the road which passed by
Mrs. Wilson's house. Philippe half rose
from her seat, and seemed to be on the
point of asking me some question; but she
changed her mind, and relapsed into silence
| l felt a horrible dread lest the roadside OBJ
| jects and landmarks should awaken recol-
| lection, and nay heart beat violently Us we
| neared the white heap by the hedge, that
heap which believed held our secret. I felt
that I grew deadly pale. Twas forced to turn
my head away aad look out of the opposite
window. NY state of mind was not made
Easier by knowing that Philippe was gazing
at me with that troubled look in her eyes
Altogether l felt that the strain was becem-
ing too much for me, and began to wonder
If my life would ever again know happy
or secure moment.
After long silence Philippe spoke.
''Tell me, Basil, have you heard from that
man!'
shook my head.
"Where is hes He was coming that night
Did he Gomez
81 suppose not. Why do you ASKER
'Basil, a kind of horrible dream haunts
me. There was something l dreamed of
that fearful night, something / dream of
now. Tell me what it was"
The perspiration rose to my brow.
| DEAREST" l said, emo wonder you dream.
| You are well now, but that night you were
quite out of your senses. Your fancies are
but the remains of that delirium Think
no more of that wretch; he is probably
living in Paris, after the manner of his kind.
Think only that life is going to be calm and
happy"
Anything to keep the knowledge of her
| fatal act from herf I forced myself to talk
| in light, cheerful manner. / jested at the
4 appearance of the few muffied-up country
] people whom we passed on the road.
I pointed out the beauty Of the trees on the
1 wayside, each branch of which bore foliage
| of glistening snow. l did all I could to turn
4 her thoughts into other channels--to drive
| that strange questioning look from her eyes.
4 Right glad l felt when we We're att last in the
4 train, and the first stage Of our flight an
4 accomplished fact.
4 Upon reaching London drove straight
4 to the hotel at which my mother was stay
4 ing. 1t one of those high priced re-
4 spectacle private hotels in Jermyn street.
9 engaged rooms for my sister and myself.
| sent Philippe to her room to rest, and
| then went to find nv mother. In another
/ minute | was in her arms, and ere half an
| hour was over I had told her Philippa's story,
| and my love for the woman on whose be-
| half l besought her protection.
| Yes, l had done right to trust her.
zalew her noble nature; her utter freedom
| rom the petty trammels of society.
| NEW the love she bore her son. Let me
| ere thaak her once more for what she did
| or me that day.
/ She heard all my outpourings in silence.
! told her all, save two things-the name of
the man who had wronged my love and the
fate which had overtaksn him. l told her,
/ as l have told you, how I had loved-how
loved Philippa; how | now dared to hope
that in time to come my love would be re.
warded. prayed her to take my poor girl
| to her heart and by treating her as @
daughter restore, if it were possible, her
self-respect
! My mother heard me. Her sweet face
grew shade paler. Her lips quivered, and
the tears stood in her eyes, knew all that
was passing through her mind. 1 knew how
| proud she was of me- and what great things
she had hoped I should do in the world. She
was woman, and, woman-like, had counted
upon her sons lettering himself by mar
| riage; but, in spite of all this knew was
| right in counting upon her aid. Once again
my sweet mother, thanleyou.
| She rose. LET me see the woman you
love. Where is shea I will go to her."
''She is here in this house. All, mother,
4 Iknew you would do this for ne"
| She kissed my forehead. 'tBring her to
me-" she said.
went out, and sent word to Philippa that
I wanted her. She soon came to me. She
had removed the stains of travel, and, al.
though pale, looked the perfection Of grace
full beauty. led her to my mothers room.
| She stopped short as she saw it tenanted by
lady. A quick blush crossed her cheek.
"Philippa, dearest" I said, ''this is my
mother | have told her all, and she is
wal ing to welcome you"
Still she stood motionless, save that her head
bent down and her form heaved. My mother
came to her side, and. placing her kind arms
around her, whispered some words which !
neither heard nor tried to hear Phiippa
broke into storm of sobs, and for some
! moments wept on my mothers shoulder.
Then she raised her head and looked at
me, and my heart leaped at the expression
in her fearful eyes "Basil my brother
you are too good to meP' she calculated
My mother led her to the sofa, and with
her arms still round her, sat down by her