The daily chieftain. [volume] (Vinita, Ind. Ter. [Okla.]) 1898-1902, 1899-02-04

shut upon her. and she was on her way
home. She had long way TO drive.
plenty of time TO follow out her present
train OF thought. and 10 be as unhappy
as she pleased.
She told herself that she was de-
spicable little wretch. mere society
butterfly, and it was no wonder Horace
was tired of her. If only Horace had
-,een poor, so that he and she could have
worked and struggled togetherl II
only their one child had lived beyond
boy hood! But that she could not bear
to think of even now. If only all the
last ten years could be lived over again.
how differently she would use them!
Now it was TOO late. and then she sud
denly sat up straight. with fast-beating
heart. Ii was not too late. ii could not
be TOO late. She would begin this night
and try 10 restore something of the old
loving relations of ten years ago. She
would call for her husband now al the
club; She remembered having done 80
once or twice in those bygoue days,
when something imperative had pre-
vented him from coming with her, to
their mutual disappointment.
She gave the necessary order 10 her
coachman and then sat tense and up
right. her eyes bright, her cheeks
flushed.
All, they were not far from the club
now-five minutes more, and her new
life would have begun.
She had no idea what the time was,
but il could not be so late, for the pave
ment was thronged with people-all 60
ing the same way, oddly enough, as it
occurred to her after moment. There
were SO many of them that presently
the carriage was blocked and obliged to
go slowly; she beat her little hands on
the seat in her impatience and looked
out again.
Its the club that is on fire, ma am"
a policeman said. Then, as she turned
white, he added kindly: Don't be
frightened. ma am. they've got the fire
well in hand by this time, and everyone
is out"
"All safe?" Mrs. Trelawney gasped
well. few broken bones and such
like" said the policeman. cheerfuly.
Nothing to speak of, ma 'am-only one
gentleman killed. A sad business that"
"Who?"
"The gentleman who did such great
things out in Burnah few years ago
Maj. Trelawney."
"My husband"
Had they brought him-it-home? :?
she wondered, with long shudder
She was in the hall now, and some one
was hurrying to meet her-the doctor.
She was not surprised to see him there;
in her dreamlike state nothing seemed
strange any more.
~ have bad news for you. Mrs. Tre-
lawney."
II know-I knowl" she answered,
petulantly. In her unreasoning mis-
cry she was annoyed by his hushed
tone. Her own voice was unnaturally
shrill and strained, and the doctor
raised his hand IN protest.
what heartless creatures these pret-
ty women are!" he was thinkiug-an
unconscious echo of the servants opin-
ion.
Il must beg of you to control your
self" he said, sternly. Every ything de-
pends on quiet. His life is hanging on
thread"
His life2 0 God! Then he is not
dead?"
She had brushed past the doctor.
deaf TO his remonstrances. With noise
less. flying feet she was up the staircase
and a moment laier was kneellng by
her husbands bedside.
The doctor, following rapidly. stood
arrested at the door looking N at the
darkened room. the kneeling white fig
ure, with clasped hands and large, fixed
ewes, the swathed wreck of man ~
ing still on the bed.
One hand lay outside the coverlet.
Her own stole out slowly. hungrily. to-
ward it, as if her own daring scared
her. She bowed her head over the ban
daged hand at last and knelt notion
less. The doctor. watching, and quite
forgetting his scathing condemnation
of n moment before. thought with
swift contempt of certain reports con-
cerning the Trelawney's domestic hap
piness which had reached his ears.
Something came before his shrewd.
keen eyes which blurred The picture
before him. He turned aside for mo-
ment and then was recalled by swift,
low cry: Horace! o Horace!"
The doctor sprang forward and thei.
drew back. The injured mans eyr~