Marble Hill press., 1896-11-12
CHAPTER X.-tCoxr1NuED.,

ANN9N
kind, and his fraternal attentions were
rendered freely and cordially as ever,
but he was less gay, and was addicted
to fits of abstraction, profound, al
though apparently not sad, while his
absence from thu family circle, with
out apology, became so common that it
ceased to provoke Harriet's frivolous
wonder, and to disappoint Mr.. Withers.
Constance had never complained of or
remarked upon this. But her mind
was tossed night and day upon tu-
multuous tide of conjectures, she would
fain have termed apl cehensions, rath-
er than hopes. Up to ihis date she had
believed her love and her misery to be
unshared and unsuspected by him; had
reiterated, in her f1imsy self-deception,
thanksgivings choked by tears that she
was the only sufferer from her wretch
ed folly. Did she grow suddenly cruel
and base the moment when the thought
that the error was mutual awoke
raptures, the remembrance Of the suf-
fering he must also taste bad not the
power to still?Was the sal. , to her self
respect supplied by the discovery that
her divinity was a fallible man, impo-
tent to resist the subtle temptation that
had overcome her prejudices and sense
of right, worth the price paid for it? A
new terror, more sweet than any joy
she had ever known, soon laid hold
of her. 1t was idle to ignore the fact
that Edward furtively, but persistent
Iy, sought private interview with her.
She might disregard his beseeching
glances, affect to misunderstood his
signals and his uttered hints, might
seek, in constant ministrations to her
husbands wants and whims, to guard
herself, and to forget these omens Of
Nearing crisis. But she comprehended
his designs; marked with thrill, that
was the opposite to pain, his chagrin
at his failure, and the augmented rest
lessness of his mien, betokening per-
plexity and desire. What was to be the
end of this pursuit, and her evasion OF
It, when her own heart was the temp
ter's strongest ally? She dared not
hear him say that she was dear to
him as he had long been to her. Know
ing, as she did, that she ought to spurn
him from her at the remotest approach
to ehfs theme, she was never able to
say with an honest purpose that she
was likely to do it. If she doubted his
Intentions, she doubted herself yet
more.
It was by no connivance of hers that
ne gained his point. She was taking
her usual afternoon drive one day
alone, when she was aroused from a
reverie by the slower motion of the
carriage, t. observe that the coachman
had turned into a business thorough
fare instead of taking the most direct
route homeward.
John" she called through the FROM
window, "whe.s are you going? What
brought you here?"
"Mr. Edward told me to call for him
at 4 o'clock, ma'am. I thought he had
spoken to you about it," was, the re-
spectful rejoinder.
There was no immediate reply, and
ne checked his horses to inquire.
''Will go back, mR'wS
mo; go on"
She threw herself upon the back seat
again, with throbbing pulses and
feeling that she had spoken the SEN
tence which was to decide her fate for
time and for eternity. Heaven help me
10 stand fast" the tongue essayed to
say, and while the heart was melting
into tenderness, and vibrating with eN-
pectation.
It lacked ten minutes of the appoint |
ed hour when they reached the office, |
but Edward stood upon the door step,
lat and gloves on.
ut is good in you to submit so quietly |
to my meddling," he began, by the
time he was seated. ''But have some
thing to say to you, story to tell
which can keep no longer. You must
have seen, although you have seemed
not to do so, how have dogged your
steps for some weeks past, in the hope
Of stealing an opportunity for confess
sion. I have sometimes ventured to
believe that your woman's wit and
woman's heart had penetrated my Sc
eret. that what entered so largely into
NV thoughts and motives, made up so
much Of my life, could not remain hid
den from your eyes. ] wanted to tell
you Of 1t long ago, dear Connie, but
the recollection of what was due to
another withheld me, while / was yet
uncertain that my love was returned.
I had 80 little reason for hope, although
hope has never tagged mine is san
guine nature, you know--that I hesi-
tated to speak openly. Now that can
feel firm ground under my feet. my
happiness is mixed with much alloy. |
must either take from one who Is
hopeless invalid the ablest and most
lovely nurse that ever man had; con-
denim him. whose claim the world would
declare to be superior to mine, to lone