The Yale expositor., 1898-12-02


sleeping, but a dead woman. Inc
stony rigid repose, the waxen color Oh
the skin, the fixed look OF pain ABOUT
the drawn mouth, all seemed to con-
firm my fear, until, leaning closer,
faint breath famed my cheek and she
moaLed feebly. / stole away, swal-
lowed glass of brandy, threw myselr
upon a couch in my dressing room and
soon sank into an uneasy dose. Hell
ems sleeping face haunted me.
dreamt that she was lying dead on the
cliff where we had so often sat togeth-
er, and that when l stopped to lift her
body in my arms pair OF bony hanus
closed fiercely round my throat, stran-
Cling my cries for mercy, dragged me
to the edge of the cliff, where fierce
ly struggled for my life. The hands
knew belonged to old Molly Griffin;
but the face glowering over me was
young William Hernshaw's, distorted
with passion. At last, with a violent
wrench, / freed one arm, and seizlng
the hand pressing my throat, awoke
to find Helen leaning over me, drag
ging her wrist from my clutch.
1 looked at her stupidity for a Sec
ond.
Il am doing you no HARM" she
said, her eyes pickering and glaring at
me stealthily. Il came to see why
why-you had not come to bed. Let
me go, let me so. say-you hurt me"
l at once dropped her hand, and she
ran quickly away to her own room.
did not see her again until break
fast, when she appeared in a lively,
talkative mood and civilly disposed
towards both Edith and me, though she
never once looked us in the face, but
kept her eyes almost closed or fasten-
ed to her plate. After giving some
household orders she went out, and,
standing by the window of my study,
watched her for some time pacing a
retired corner of the kitchen garden
with swift, monotonous stride; at
last the movement became so repug-
nant to me that, scarcely needing what
was doing, threw open the window
and called out to her:
Helen, I'm going to the club this
morning; haven't you any shopping to
do? The dog cart will be round in
half an hour.
"No, none," she answered, after a
moments pause. Besides, l have an
engagement this afternoon. Ask Miss
Stopford; she is sure to have some
shopping to do"
She had, and we started presently,
returning very hot and dusty late in
the afternoon to find that Helen had
failed to keep her engagement, which
Edith casually informed me was a
drive to the Flower Show at Briers-
wood with Sir William Hernshaw.
at was so hot, felt too lazy to
dress; l hope you had a pleasant
drive" she said drowsily, her eyelashes
still sweeping her cheeks.
almost unbearable coming back" l
answered, throwing myself upon
seat by the open window. 81 am near
ly choked with dust; I feel I could
swallow a quart of claret and soda"
''I'll get some," said Helen, going to-
wards the dining room, and presently
returning with a cool, frothing tum-
bier, which she handed to me and
then stood behind my chair.
turned, laid my hand on her arm,
and said gently:
Helen, tell me what is the matter
with you. Why will you not look at
me-wife?"
She did not move or answer a word,
though 1 repeated my inquiry almost
coaxingly, as one would question a
pettish, hayward child.
withdrew my hand and lifted. sigh
ing YEARLY the glass, when suddenly,
with a loud cry, she dsshed It from
my lips, the liquid squirting UP into
my face, flowing down my shirt and
collar and streaming onto the carpet.
where the glass lay broken.
Stung to the quick by the insulting
violence OF the act, l sprang to my
feet, glazing speechlessly at her until
Edith, whose presence l was not aware
of, ran eagerly towards me and passed
her handkerchief over my wet face and
neck.
How dare you?" I stammered
hoarsely. what do you mean? Are
you mad?"
Helen burst into a wild, loud laugh.
Yes. yes, mad-mad as March
are-mad-mad-the maddest wife
ever a true husband had. Oh. my
poor head-my poor head-it aches
1t achesl A breath of sea air would
do it good-a breath of sea air!" she
moaned, listlessly moving away.
went too, for even Edie's soft
touch and plying eyes were more than
could bear. Ordering my horse, I
gave him his head, rode across country
as II following the swiftest hounds that
ever ran a fox to earth. 1 knew not
whittier or how far I went; 1t was
night when the poor brute, lame, foot
sore, crawled up the avenue again.
Edith was waiting for me on the door
step, and led me into the dining-room.
where a tempting supper was laid.
Eat, eat" she said; you look thor
oughly exhausted, poor dear"
She" l began nervously.
",She has been perfectly quiet ever