The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1903-08-27
CHAPTER XIV.
At the Bedside.

Pale and worn, Avice dressed in a
white wrapper, sat in large arm chair
by the half-open window. A look Of
desperate suffering was in the sap
| phire eyes, and hopeless lines had
gathered about the beautiful mouth.
She had been very Ill during these
long seven days and nights. Had they
told her seven years had passed she
would not have been surprised. For
| the last twenty-four hours her physi-
clan and her jailer had been absent.
| The misery of his absolute presence
had been spared her, though his pro-
fessional skill had doubtless saved her
wretched life. She was idle, miser-
able, and utterly unhappy. Would
that he had left her to die! The house
was strangely silent. 1t grew OPP
pressive. She called the name of the
woman who was nominally her maid,
| but no one answered. Could she have
been left alone? Could her prison door
have been left ajar? She was very
weak. Her brain was reeling; but,
rising and opening the door, she called
again and again, yet received no an
| swer.
a wild suseOt iIOpe a mad inpulsn
sprang into birth, which brought the
color for the first time to her cheeks
and fictitious strength to her limbs.
Let it but answer her purpose and all
would be well.
In another moment she had thrown
a shawl about her and tied on her hat:
then stole softly down the stairs, car
ing not where she went so that she left
behind her the house which had been
made to her prison. At last she
reached the door; her hand was on the
knob, when it turned from the outside
and was thrown open by Dr. Hayes,
while leaning on his arm was the beau
tiful vision whom she first saw on the
fatal day of her brothers wedding, and
who, she then learned, was her broth
ers wife.
Were you going for walk, Miss
Avice?" questioned the doctor, with an
ironical smile about his mouth. 81
hardly supposed you strong eJtugh;
besides, 1t is the rear of the house, you
know, where the sun shines"
She did not turn her head as he
spoke, but fastened her eyes hunger
ingly, despairingly, hopefully, all
blended into one, upon the beautiful
face opposite her.
Madame" she said, 81 never wrong.
ed you. Have you come to save me
from this man, to restore me to my
friends?"
my DEAR" said Barbara. your
friends. since learning the truth In re- |
gard to you, decline to receive you.
They know where you have gone.
They do not wish to follow. The story
has been published throughout Paris. |
We are your only friends now. Will |
you not trust us?
But no answer came from the girls |
white, quiyering lips. The full mean
ing OF the horrible words gathered |
and grew in her brain. until something |
seemed to burst within 1t; then, with |
hSl aiLho idloVu dlOtlg Su6 lduSBGu /
aloud-a laugh that froze her listeners |
blood-and, SO laughing, they bore her |
back to her room and to her bed, still |
with those hooking peals of mirth the |
only sound within the silent house, I'M
til exhaustion overpowered her and |
she slept.
For three days and nights the ply
stefan bent over her bed, listening to
her piteous, unconscious appeals to /
the man she had loved; but Barbara
writhed under the words which told
how deeply Milton must have loved
this girl-writhed even as she triumph
ed, until she grew to hope that her tri-
umph might be complete and that new
er again he might look upon Avice's
living face.
At midnight the two were alone to-
gether. DR.. Hayes, utterly exhausted,
had thrown himself upon the couch in
the adjoining room; Marie, who had
from the house of her
young mistress to return to her for.
mer service, also slept and the post
Of nurse had fallen to Barbara's lot.
Avice's eyes. wide open, gazed into
vacancy; the rich. scarlet lips were
parted over the white. cleaning teeth;