The Bowbells tribune., 1900-08-31
CHAPTER v.


/ Whatever had been Grace's vigil dur
ing the long hours Of that slow-passing
day, it had left but little trace, as,
with unfaltering steps she descended
the stairs as Andrew, the butler.
crossed the hall to make the announce
ment that dinner was served.
"Will you take my arm, Uncle, Ed
gar, or shall take yours?" she called.
almost gaily, from the threshold of the
room.
ut is I, my child, who must hence
forth lean on you," he said, and laid
while he dimly wondered if, indeed, his
fear had been misplaced for the blight
upon her life.
At that moment loud peal of the
bell started them both. It seemed to
sound some new disaster.
Yesterday she would have let him, in
any trouble, be her shield. To-day. in
stinctively, she gently pushed him
back into his easy chair, and went out
into the hall as Andrew opened the
front door.
In few moments she returned, and,
crossing the room knelt down by his
side.
"Uncle," she said, "there has been
railroad accident, and Harry is in
jured, but not, think, seriously. His
his wife is unhurt She sent mes
senger here from the depot to ask what
she should do, and I have given orders
that they should come here at once. I
felt it would be your wish, Uncle Ed
gar-at least I knew that you would
forgive me that so soon claimed for
Harry the pardon you have promised
him. Where else should he come but
20 his fathers house?"
"That woman here-to-day! My boy
hurt, dying, perhaps! Oh, what mis-
fortune has not this entailed upon us?"
flush, Uncle Edgar! Think how
sad an ending this Is to Harry's wed
ding day. We must think now, not OF
ourselves, but Of him and of-his wife.
Uncle. you will receive her. not forget
ting that she is Harry's wife and your
daughter?'
He looked don at the loving, pleas
ing face upturned to his.
"Child," he said, "are you an angel
Of forgiving, plying love? For your
sake, and because you ask It, will
try and look upon this woman only as
my boys wife; but let her beware-let
her but sully the atmosphere you
breathe-let her be one whit less pure.
less true than the proud station she has
attained will warrant, and"
He did not finish the sentence. Five
little fingers were pressed tightly over
his mouth.
"I4et us not cloud the future with a
foreboding, Uncle Edgar" spoke a
sweet, low voice in his ear. 1--WE are
to welcome Harry and Harry's wife to-
day. But they cannot be here for half
an hour yet. will give orders that
dinner be kept waiting, and see that
their rooms are in readiness"
Her voice was strong, but her face
was colorless as marble-even while
she hastened into the garden and
robbed the rose bushes Of their choic-
est blooms.
Yesterday I thought he loved me.
she thought, as she arranged them in
bowls and vases. Yesterday? No,
only last night: and to-day, tonight.
> am scattering flowers through the
rooms for Harry's bride. Ah!"-as the
sound Of wheels on the drive be.ow the
windows reached her ear-"ah! they
are come."
A moment later the front door was
thrown wide open, and she herself
stood on the threshold to meet the
woman, the shadow Of whose influence
already had fallen athwart her young
life. Could the veil which hid the fu-
ture from her sight have been torn
aside what revelation would have froz-
en on her lips the welcoming smile!
And was 1t wrong that no premonition
warned her?
A few hours later, and white and
suffering Harry Reynolds lay back
with closed eyes among the pillows of
his bed. His broken arm had been
set. his bruises dressed, and the
thought that he was once more in his
old home made even his sufferings well
come. Across the pain which racked
him, like sunbeams threading their
way through the darkness, came the
memory of his fathers welcome, the
pressure Of his hand, the sweet, low
music Of Grace's voice.
i. They had all left him at.last with his
wife, and he had sent her into the next
room to lie down and rest-was con-
tent to be alone and dream. But
could he have looked beyond the closed
door which separated the bed rooms,
he would have seen that already was
her vow Of obedience disregarded.
The bed and lounge were alike un-
touched. With quick, nervous motion,
the young wife paced up and down the
full length Of the floor.
On the thick carpet her football was
unhcard. She had exchanged her trav-
cling dress for a lcose-fitting robe Of
white, which fell in Vatican folds from
her shoulders to the ground.
A flush of triumph was on her cheek
and had kindled its fires In the great,
yellow eyes until they fairly blazed.
She made no sound as she moved.
She seemed to belong to and form a
part of the silence of tie room.
But it was silence such as might
exist in the heart of Vesuvius, when II
breeds the horrors it later must belch
forth.
Once she paused and held paused and
held UP her left hand to the light. It
was small, and white and beautifully
shaped: but it was not her vanity had
moved her to its inspection. Neither