Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1908-07-28
{ The fatal Three
, MISS II. z. BRADDoN
CHAPTER X


room in tempest of passionate feeling,
and then she said, even more quietly than
she had spoken before:
Ny dear Mildred, have given you
my advice, conscientiously. If you refuse
to be guided by the wisdom of one who is
your senior by a quarter of a century, the
consequences of your obstinacy must be
upon your own head. | only know that
If had man as good as George Ores
void for my husband"-with little catch
in her voice that sounded almost like
sob-A''it would take great deal more
than suspicion to part me from him"
May / ask what your plans are for
the future, MildredF said Miss Faussct.
II need hardly tell you that | shall be
pleased to have you here as long as you
care to stay but / should like to know
your scheme of life-in the event of
your persistence in a separation from
your husband"
II have made no definite plan, Aunt :
l shall spend the autumn in some quiet
water-place in Germany. and perhaps go
to Italy for the Winter"
why to ItalyY
1T is the dream of ny life to see that
SOuAilgf ana NY uusriuu always EeLuseu
to take me there"
For some good reason, no doubt"
Il believe he had dread of the fever.
know of no other reason
You are prompt to tale advantage of
your independence"
Indeed, anut, | have no idea of that
kind. God help me Ny independence is
a sorry privilege. But if any country
could help me to forget my SORROWS, that
country would be italy"
IND after the winter? Do you mean
TO live abroad altogether
II don't know what / may do. l have
thoughts of entering sisterhood by and
BY"
"Well, you must follow your own
course Mildred. l can say no more than
have said already. If you make up your
md to renounce the world there are sis.
t,rhoSas all over England, and there is
pie nty o. good work to be done Perhaps
tster all it Sc the best life and that those
are hsppiest who shut their minds against
earthly affections"
''As you have done, aunt" said Mil
bred. with respect. II know how full of
good works your life has been"
II have tried to do my duty according
to my lights" answered the spinster
gravely.
The next day was cold and stormy,
Autumn with foretaste of winter Mil
dre6 went to the morning service with
her aunt, in the bright new Gothic
church which Miss Fausset's liberality
had helped to create; picturesque temple
with clustered column and richly horiated
capitals, diapered roof, and encaustic
pavement, and over all things the glow
of many-colored lights from painted win
dows. Miss Fausset spent the morning
In visiting among the poor. She had a
large district out in the London road, in
part of Brighton of which the fashion
able Brightonian hardly knoweth the ex-
lstenee.
Mildred sat in the back drawing room
all the morning, pretending to read. She
took volume after volume out of the book
case, turned over the leaves, or sat star
Ing at page for quarter of an hour at
time, in hopeless vacuity of mind She
had brooded upon her trouble until her
brain SEEMED benumbed, and nothing was
left of that sharp sorrow but a dull ach-
Ing pain.
After luncheon she went out for a soli-
tary walk on the cliff road that leads
eastward. 1t was a relief to find herself
alone upon that barren down. with the
great stormy sea in front of her and the
busy world left behind.
1t was growing dusk when she went
back to Lewes Crescent, so she went
straight to her room and dressed Tor din
ner before going TO the drawing room She
entered the inner room. Her aunt was
not there, and there was only one large
reading lamp burning on table near the
fire. The front drawing room was in
shadow. She went toward the piano. in
tending to play to herself in the twilight,
but as she moved slowly in the direction
Of the instrument a strong hand played
The hands that played those chords
were the hands Of master. 1t was
hardly surprise to Mildred when a tall
figure rose from the piano. and Cesar
Castellani stood before her in the dim
light. His hat and gloves were upon the
piano, as if he had just entered the room.
my dear Mrs. Greswold, how delight
ful to find you here l came to make
a late call upon your aunt-she is always
indulgent to my Bohemian indifference TO
etiquette-and had not the least idea that
! should see you"
II did not know that you and my aunt
were friends"
"Noi" interrogatively. "That is very
odd, for we are quite old friends. Miss
Fausset was all goodness to me when |
was an idle undergraduate"
yet when you came to Enderby You
brought an introduction from Mrs Tom.
kison. Surely my aunt would have been
better person."
mo doubt: but it is Just like me TO
take the first sponsor who came to hand.
When l am in London half live at Mrs.
Tomkison's, and | had heard her rave
about you until l became feverishlv any
ious 20 make your acquaintance. ought
perhaps 20 have referred TO Miss Fausset
for my credentials-but | knew Mrs.
Tomkison would exaggerate my virtues
and ignore my errors"
Mildred went back 10 the inner room,
and seated herself by the reading lamp.
Castellani followed her. and placed him
self on the other side of the small octagon
table, leaving only narrow space be-
tween them.
How pale 70, are ?" he said. with a
COX OF concern. 1 hope you are not i'll -
mo. am only tired after a long walk =
II had no idea you had left Enderby
You said nothing Of your intention OF
leaving the neighhorheod the day before
yesterday"
There was no occasion to talk of my
plans" Mildred answered coldly.
Ii seemed futile thing TO make believe
that all was well at Enderby, to ward of
explanations, when before long the world
must know that George GreSwold and his
wife were parted forever. Some reason
would have TO be given. That thirst for
Information about the inner life of ones
neighbors which is the ruling passion o.
this waning century must be slaked some
bow. II was partly on this account. per
haps. that Mildred fancied il would b.
said that Mrs. Greswold had given up the
world.
Miss Fausset came into the room whils