Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-11-16
CHAPTER VI.


The evening of Colonel Marchmont's
return was given over to the ball of
which mention has already been made.
Portia was a picture in her white satin
gown, the laces of which were caught
here and there with clusters of scarlet
verbenas. When she was dressed and
stood intently regarding herself in the
mirror, she sighed heavily.
Why do you sigh, Portia:' asked as
pinned the last knot of flowers in the
folds of her gown.
Those red blossoms, she answered
dreamily. Il have curious fancy about
them, Prudence. Do you know that
they look like drops of blood?" Then
catching my reproving expression she
laughed gayly, caught up her scarlet fan
and FASTENED to join her husband in the
drawing room.
watched Colonel Marchmont curl
ously to see what effect his wife's beauty
had upon him, but he regarded her as
coldly as ever. / began to be furious
with this calm, self contained man, who
showed so plainly his utter indifference
to the beautiful woman he possessed.
He had taken her white cloak from
her and thrown it over his arm as he
stood waiting while she buttoned her
gloves. Suddenly he spoke:
Did l write you that met Maurice
in Atlanta" he asked
1 was standing near Portia, indeed
had just stretched out my hands to as
sist her with tho troublesome glove.
saw her shiver as if q cold wind had
struck across her white shoulders.
YES" sLo said in a low voice.
And that he is coming here next
week to stay a few days with us?' Colo
mel Marchmont continued.
YES, " she breathed rather than spoke.
Her husband looked intently at her
through narrowing cyelids.
well, ! must say that you do not
show much interest in the cousin who
was like a brother to you and whom
you have not seen since you were boy
and girl together. Now, Maurice could
not end his catechism about you. How
you look, dress, talk and act were ques-
tons he was continually asking. told
him his legal training had evidently be-
come second nature, for he kept me on
the witness stand constantly. You must
know, Miss Mason, that Maurice Ray
mond is my wife's only living relative.
He was born and brought up ON her IA
theirs plantation, and the two We're like
brother and sister"
''Oh, yes!' l said, 81 used often, Portia,
to hear you speak of your brother
Maurice"
Portia turned white, hunted face to-
ward me. Her lips moved as if she
were about to speak, but no sound issued
from them.
Let me see," said her husband as he.
carelessly threw her cloak over her
shoulders, sit must be 10 years since
you saw him. How much you will have
to talk over!''
The greenish light of excitement had
died from Portals face; and as she took
her husbands arm she looked SO wan,
haggard and old 1 was temped to beg
her to stop at home. Really she APP
peared too i'll to go.
But the carriage was at the steps.
Colonel Marchmont handed her in, fol-
lowed. shut the door, and they were
driven rapidly away.
For long time l sat upon the piazza
thinking over the little scene had wit
messed. From the terror and dismay
which had so suddenly crept in Portals
face when her cousins name was men
toned did not doubt that the news of
his coming had been the unwelcome an
nouncement in her husbands letter
which had occasioned so much alarm.
And why? What possible danger could
this relative bring her? On the contrary,
why did she not welcome his advent as
a relief to the monotony of her life? 1t
was not possible she was in love with
this cousin? No, no. If ever a woman
loved her husband, it was Portia March
mont.
My musings were interrupted by lit
tie Daphne, who had been allowed to
sit up and watch her mothers toilet for
the ball. She ran toward me, scream
ing in pretended fright, from her nurse
Sophie, who wished to put her to We'd,
took her in my arms and kissed her.