The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1893-12-02
CHAPTER VIII.

I drew back, startled and amazed
After his despairing outburst Colonel
Marchmont resumed his walk, head
lent and hands clnsped behind him.
watched linn pass out of sight at q
turn of the siirubbery. ..-
"Well," l said aloud to myself, "that
certainly is about the most astonishing
feature yet of this remarkable business.
In one instant the colonel declares with
an emphasis which leaves little doubt of
his earnestness that he hates and loathes
Portia, and in the next cries out to her
i'll accents imploring enough to melt a
heart of stone. My private opinion is
that the entire Marchmont family is
voOdooed."
AT dinner that evening particularly
remarked Portia's beauty. Never had
she been so radiant. Her eyes glittered
as if she had been drinking champagne,
and her cheeks glowed like roses.
could not keep my eyes from her fasci-
mating face and grew more and more in
censed at the cold, silent man who re-
gardcd her 50 indiiferently.
After we had gone into the drawing
room bethought me Of book in which
! was greatly interested, and excusing
myself went into the library to find it.
Returning few minutes later, | was the
forced witness of n most painful scene.
The door between the rooms was open,
and as l approached saw Portia steal
up behind her husband with look Of
longing on her face. The colonel was in
tent upon his newspaper and did not
perceive her until she put both white
arms about his throat and tenderly laid
her cheek upon his head.
lie sprang from his chair as if ser
pcut had stung him. Turning, he con-
frontod her with an awful face, white,
stern, contemptuous.
How dare you;' he said in a low
voice, vibrant with hatred.
"Oh, Jermyn, forgive mo! Love me
after all. lam yourwife, begged Portia.
YES, have not forgotten that intol-
cradle fact, replied Colonel Marchmont,
with studied coldness Then he hurried
from the room.
Portia came flying toward me like a
whirlwind. Her eyes blazed. With one
clinched hand she strucl; at her heart.
prudence she cried, The will kill me.
But first
She broke off and burst into lemoni-
acal laughter. Then, calming IA bit. she
continued: No, viii not tell you, you
soft little mouse. what | will do. Jer-
myn Marchmont shall know one day
what he has accomplished tonight
"Portia, what is itt'' | asked "What
is this mystery which surrounds YOU
Instantly saw that look of cunning
spring to her face.
| "Mystery" she repeated almost gayly.
"Absurdl There is no mystery. My
husband has simply wearied of me.
Nothing very mysterious about that, is
| there:" and seizing me around the waist
she waltzed me up and down the hall.
As soon as | could disengage myeelf
from her embrace | stepped back. But
Portia went on dancing, She looked a
veritable Moenad as she whirled and
| waved her white arms and tossed back
her dislcvelod hair She was the most
| graceful creature imaginable, but at the
same time there was something both
grotesque and frightful about the wild
dance in which she iniulged. Her face
grew wicked, her postures audacious.
All l could think of was La Carmagnole
or the mad tarantella of one writhing
in a death agony.
For heavens sake, Portia, stopr' ]
cried at last.
She only laughed mockingly and