The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-09-10
CHAPTER VII.
TANGIdNG TEE sKEIN.

The musicale had broken up early,
and the Gilmor Gray mansion was
tightly closed. Not one light shone
from its tall, brown front, and the very
servants quarters were dark and still,
as the clock of the church hard by
Changed out twice upon the night.
Bessie Westchester had soon left her
hidden guest, to mingle brightly again
with those below; but never had the
cordial hospitality Of that fair maiden
of her whole household, in fact--really
found so 'ssweet" that proverbially
m,,ch-slandered ''old word, good-by!"
Necessary sequel@ of feast properly
looked to, though in unusual haste for
a notable housekeeper, Mrs. Gray had
dismissed her willing servants to rest;
and, little later, her husband had
quietly locked the door leading from
their wing to the family section of the
dwelling.
81 may disappoint some colored lodge,
for once,'' he had remarked to his wife,
as he pocketed the key; ''but tonight
even our own eyes and ears are danger
Gus to trust to-"
And now Bessie Westchester, her be-
coming ball-dress changed for loose,
but equally becoming wrapper, again
nestled on the floor, close to Carolyn
Clay, who waited, calm and resolute, as
the minutes sped on with feet that
seemed leaden-shod to her anxious sus-
pense. And below, her mother and
sister moved noiselessly about the
pantry, packing, as 'compactly as def
hands might, an ample luncheon into
the fat tin case.
! "She will probably get wet, poor
childl" the matron said, removing q
layer of thin sandwiches to wedge in
slices of fruit cake. 1.-THE tin is the
safest; but, dear me, how little it
holds!"
'sBut these must go in, mamma" an
swered Miss Westchester. "Dear Caro-!
No telling when she'll see fruit cake
again! How dreadful it all is, mamma!
Only think what she tells us about
sorghum and corn-bread Wait; press
on the sandwiches while / wedge in
these sardines."
REALLY. wife," interposed the late
bachelor club man, ''you must expect
her to realize that green colonePs or
ders issued to his men, to cook and eat
five days rations immediately
81 wish they all could over therer'
the wife retorted, her wanting logic
condoned by deep sigh. ''Just think
OF your poor brother Llowndes, Gilmor,
starving on bacon and hard tack!''
SIT is good for his liver, my deer"
Mr.. Gray replied, with ightneG, be-
lioA by his eyes. 'My brother Llov.l7
he's so far in his life eaten pate an t.-
rapin enough to bring camp-fare 70: .e
next ten years up to pretty luxurious
average"
But away up in the attic hiding-place
no badinage was spoken. Carolyn Clay
had several times gone over the details
of her perilous trip across. Each time
she had spoken with naive freedom of
her fears, her suspense and her joy at
rescue-all without reserve. But one
thing she had never told-approaching
it with ready purpose, only to find her
lips close and throbbing something
lust beneath her throat which she could
not control.
She had never explained tha, man
who had saved her, at risk OF instant
traitors doom, was himself renegade
doubly traitor to the cause that made
him so, by that very act. Far less hao
she been able to frame the two words
of his name, once sweetly familiar to
her lips, now bitter as Dead sea fruit
upon them.
Often-after Bessie had listened with
signs and tears of sympathy, then left
her-Carolyn Clay would upbraid her
conscience for this half-confdence to
friends SO tender and SO loyal, even now
risking SO much for her. And then her
conscience would argue, not without
bubble, that it was so unnecessary
that it could but disgrace his name for
those true ones who bore it so we'll
that this one exposure could do no good. |
So the girl - reassuring herself, in
woman's way, that no lingering thought |
of his past, no pity for herself, mixed |
with the resolve-accepted her wish as
her duty, and was silent. And Bessie
Westchester had aecepted as true her