, 1898-12-09

and how she should kiss that face again.
She went to her writing table and OPEN
ed the pretty little desk that Pay there.
She sat for some minutes thinking what
to say, wondering in what Words she
could hest reach his heart, so as to touch
him with some little sorrow for his loss.
Then she wrote:
my Dear Husband@ call you by that
name for the last time, as | write for the
last time. We are not happy, and / am
going from you. You are bitterly disap-
pointed in me. | heard tonight that all
Florence pitied you, and knew how I'M
happy l made you; so, Vivian, | am going
way where you will never see me any
more. If l could die and set you free, |
would, so gladly; but until heaven calls
me, | must live. | dare not take my own
life, even to set you free; but | will do the
next best thing to that-l will go away
where no one who knows you will ever see
me again. So shall | free you from a
presence you dislike, and from what you
dislike even more-the need of parting
with Miss Leigh. She can remain now
that l have gone"
The poor jealous neart revealed herself
IN tnat nne-her scaIding tears rel ike
%raindrops upon the note.
Lady Violante took what money re-
manned in her desk. Half of it she gave
to her maid, and took half herself. Then
from her wardrobe shelves she took a
small travelling bag; in it she placed her
jewel case and the purse, together, with
d few papers, One contained a lock of
her baby's hair, and was labeled "Ru-
pert's hair" The other contained a faded
rose, the first flower Lord Vivian had ever
given her, and the third held the little
locket that Lord Vivian had Travelled to
Oakside to give her. These were her
treasures; little rocked the unhappy girl
of the diamonds and rubies her husband
had lavished upon her-her only thought
was for those, her treasures, dearer to
her than gold and jewels.
Then she gave the bag into her maids
care, and as she did so, she was struck
by the coldness of the woman's hand.
"Are you chill and cold?" she asked;
and the woman shivered as thought it had
been December.
Il am cold, my lady" she replied; "cold,
sick and faint, as though with a great
dread. l cannot tell what has come over
mel feel as though I were going to die"
With her own hands Lady Selwyn took
from the shelves q thick, warm fur cloak.
She wrapped it round her maids shout
ders.
"That VIII warm you" she said. And
now listen while l explain my plans. /
am determined that l will not be traced;
that which I fly from is more bitter than
death, and / will not be found. We will
60 to the railway station together; you
shall keep out of sight, and | will buy
the ticket for Genoa. You shall go by
train, and wait for me in Genoa: | will
follow you by another route. Do you
understand
The woman's eyes, with the strange
shadow in their depths, were raised calm
ly to hers.
II understand, my lady"
when they know that | have gone
away" continued Lady Selwyn, 'they
will hear at the station that i took a
ticket for Genoa, and they will follow me
there. They will Enar %mnSp5
anyone-I shall be miles away. Idea
is to throw them off the right scent \. There
could be no better plan than thisT
None, my lady," said the maid, trying
to shake off the dull lethargy creeping
over her.
II shall join you in Genoa" continued
Lady Selwyn, when l know that the
search for me has proved fruitless. II
by any chance you should be seen, The
resa, you must say-what will be perfect
ly true-that you know nothing of my
turning to England. Now let us start;
20 first, and l will follow you"
Theresa Bowden went on to her fatei
I.l tsz1 A. d@z, 49, -
the maid. Some of the guests were al
ready leaving the villa when Lady Sci
wyn, dressed In a dark travelling cloak,
passed forever from her home.
The railway station at Florence vas
not crowded on this eventful evening. One
mail train had just disgorged its load of
passengers, and another was preparing to
start.
When the train did start a lady took her
place in the frst-class carriage, and an
other-unobserved, unnoticed-stole out
of the station yard.
Then, and for the first time, Theresa
Bowden had time to think of what had
happened-had time to realize her lady's
fight. The girls thoughts were very sad
ones: suddenly she found herself torn
from a comfortable home and launched on
a sea of difficulties that appeared endless.
1T know" she said to herself, shat II
the truth were known, all my lady's un-
happiness comes from Miss Leigh"
The train passed by quiet vineyards,
where the faint dawn of morning shone
on the purple grapes; past quiet Italian
Sillages, past purple hills and snow-clad
mountains, without stopping, without ac-
cident. 1t reached a small station at last,
neal the pretty town of Sedi. There they
who travelled heard the first faint morn
ing carol of the birds-and then on again.
On, until-who shall say how it hap
pened-there came a terrible shock, a ter
rible noise, a kissing of steam, a crashing
as of broken carriages, a rushing, blind
ing, b%ewildering shock, as two trains met
with deadly force, and, one forced the
other over the embankment into the vine
wreathed valley below!
A collisionl One train was five min
,+oa +oo nc rkv ouothpr thrae minutps Iatpl