The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1909-06-02
On the Edge.
By BARRY PRESTON.
Copyrighted, 1909, by Associated
Literary Press.

You are very much in love with
him, dear, aren't you?" Mrs. Brevort
inquired, not without certain doubt
full note in her tone, which seemed to
hint that such possibly might not be
the case
The girl who stood by the window,
looking out at the uneven pavements
of the Roman street, turned slowly
and smiled. In that smile were weari-
ness and subtle understanding and pa
tent resignation.
Eyes, am very much in love with
him, Aunt Elinor," she said in col
orless voice. as if she We're saying the
words more because they were expect
ed of her than for any other reason.
Mrs. Brevort smiled her open ap-
prevail. The little frown of doubt
which for the past few moments had
wrinkled her brow suddenly disap-
peared. She crossed the room to the
girls side and threw an arm about
her.
''Of course, dearie," she cooed, your
happiness Is my first, l might almost
say my only, concern. No one realizes
better than the portent of this step
that all your future, all your lifelong
happiness depends upon 1t. No one,
think you'll admit, too, Is more averse
to the majority of these marriages
than l am, but the duke is so utterly
different from all the other eligible
men We have met. He is not seeking
your money, dear, for he is Immensely
wealthy in his own right. He is an
upright, honest, splendid type of an
more like our own men in America,
think, than any one we have seen.
Isn't that your impression of him?"
"Yes," said the girl In the same col
orless voice.
Mrs. Brevrts pale face grew rather
eager. Somehow l have felt from the
first that your destinies We're linked
yours and his" said she, 'but when
he talked with me this afternoon
gave him no definite answer. let him
understand that the matter rested pri.
marily with you; that it was your hap
piness that was at stake.
HE didn't seem quite to understand
my attitude at first, but he was per-
fectly charming about it, as he is in
everything. He said 1 was to speak to
you and that he would call for me this
afternoon at 4 in the road car. and
while we went out to the aqueduct l
could give him my final decision, or,
rather, yours"
The girl had turned again to the
window. She was looking distracted
ly at the passing crowd in the street
below. Her brow was furrowed by a
little disfguring frown. Her lips were
set tightly together. Her eyes were
troubled.
$50 suppose am to give him a ia
| vorable answer, am l not?" Mrs. Bre-
wort suggested tentatively.
The girl was silent The troubled
look in her eyes grew more pronounc-
ed. Her aunt watched her narrowly
and with growing Impotence.
Peggy, dear. asked you ques-
ton" she reminded her niece. us 1t a
| favorable answer am to give?'
The girl shrugged her dainty Shout
ders. Yes, yes; oh. yes!" she said
hurriedly. ut doesn't natter Her
voice suddenly choked. Nothing mat
| tersv
Mrs. Brevort elevated her brows
! REALLY. Peggy she began chidingly.
But the girl turned swiftly and left
the room, waving back the older WON.
an. who started to follow her. Some
thing like Il slnothered sob sounded as
the door closed behind her
Mrs: Brevort looked rather angry for
u moment. Then she recovered her
usual composure and smiled. But there
was something distinctly unpleasant in
that smile.
She glanced at the bronze clock tick
ing unobtrusfvely Oh the mantel 1t
pointed TO half after 3. She went to n
desk near the front window and from
drawer drew out a bundle of letters
They We're all directed in the same
hand-Peggy's hand And they were
all addressed to MIR. William Hale, at
some outlandish Spanish sounding
town in Ecuador, South America.
Mrs. Breyort smiled again. 1t had
cost her pretty penny to cicumvent
the mailing of those letters, but there
I are many itching palms in Rome. and
what good money will not accomplish
If it is judiciously placed. is not worth
accomplishing.
An open fire burned duly in the
crate beneath the mantel. MIS-. Bre.
wort stepped briskly over to 1T and fed
the bundle of letters to the flames.
! She watched grimly until there was
nothing left of them save few gray
white ashes.
Then from another drawer she took
out another bundle of letters. They
were thick letters, all Of them. The
sprawling superscriptions were all for
Peggy, and they We're POSTWAR, ed with
the name OF the Spanish town in Ecua.
dor
Other itching Roman palms had been
soothed in the conventional way to
bring those epistles into Mrs Brevort's
possession.
These. too. she consigned to the
CRATE. watched them burn and then