Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1909-08-03

suuuen SOD snooK Her-Dut anything was
better than to know herself an incubus
upon him.
Her maid would be downstairs, and
she might change her dress and get to
the station in time for late train. She
could get her own old trunks at the Me-
tropole, and by this time tomorrow she
would be leaving Southampton for St.
Malo.
No sooner had she reached her room
thar she had flung off her evening dress
and shoes, and proceeded to get herself
into heavier things. Her own jewelry
and the bank-notes, which by some queer
provision she had of late always kept by
her, were showed into small bag-then
her furs, and she was ready.
If only Stewart did not come now.
She opened the door and looked out The
door of his room opposite was open and
a light burning.
With an uncomfortable desire, she loi-
tered and went in. His glove was lying
on the table where ne had flung it down
She caught it up and hid it in her dress,
and then cautiously crept down to a side
door.
But for her, she thought, and the mad
scheme, which he must despise her for
ever listening to, he might have done
what he would evidently have wished to
do, married Nellie, and settled down to
the life that was familiar to them both.
He might have seen an heir grow up to
replace the boy whom he had lost.
81 have spoiled his life!" she moaned
as she hurried on.
A r,,sb 30 ooId osr 81 a.
darkness of the night, grayer for a moon
which was yet hidden by clouds. As
she was closing the door there was a soft
scurry and rush behind her, and the Irish
terrier Nomad jumped on her, whining
with delight
Hush, Nomad, hush !" she whispered
as she drew the door to, and then, with
that one bit of faithful love, her calm
was broken, and crouching on the terrace
steps, while sobs shook her body, she drew
Nomad into her arms, and let him put
his paws upon her shoulders and lick
her face.
Tomorrow she meant to wire Stewart
from London meantime her whole
strength was set on getting away without
notice. And so, wiping away the tears
oLt IOSef anu Win OLc last lOOh I'D at
the lighted windows, turned to a path
that led across the park to the woods
and thence to the little station.
The dog frisked cheerfully round her.
and if Mathilde had been walking for
pleasure she would have enjoyed the soli-
tude of the winter night, so still that the
intense frost was scarcely felt. But anna
teur solitude, taken up and dropped at
will, is very different from a solitude
which leaves all that one values in life
behind. In the surrounding gloom and
mystery, she seemed to be walking in the
midst of a dead world, from which Gods
face was hidden, from which human love
and faith and friendship were forever
gone.
Under ordinary circumstances it would
not have tired her to have walked the
distance which she had already accom-
plished but she had been skating all that
afternoon, and felt, too the stress of the
agitation through which she had passed
She had thought her small bag a mere
trife to carry, but it began to seem much
heavier, anu her long sealskin coat was
garment more fitted for driving than
walking.
The path now led down hill where win
ter rains had worn channel, leaving
many loose stones exposed. Twice she
slipped on them. and recovered herself,
but the third time she was less fortunate,
and went down helplessly her full length.
Faint and sick from the fall, she lay
without trying to move; but even then
she knew that she had hurt herself and
when she made the first motion to get up,
the knife-like pain in her knee showed
her she was helpless.
The pain brought momentary lint
ness. but Nomad's low whines as he
licked her face aroused her, and, gather
ing all her strength, she worked herself
into sitting position where she could
get her back against a tree. 1t was all
that she could do.
She was there, powerless to help her
self, and, unless aid came soon, she would
be frozen to death. She had heard that
the end came painlessly; perhaps it
would be the best way out of it all.
A strange fantasy came over her, of
the poem where the dying girl directs her
corpse TO be carried back and set at her
lovers door:
Look on me with thine own calm look,
| meet it calm as thou.
No look of thine can change my smile,
Or still its calmness now"
But already the cold was beginning to
creep through her wraps, and the con-
straint of her position made the numb
ness of her feet painful; every part of
her body ached, and she longed for the
cleanliness that would be the beginning
Of the end. Twice she heard church
clock chime out, and she wondered if
there had been any search made for her.
They would hardly leave q lost dog to
die uncared for on such a night, she
thought bitterly.
She tried to fix her mental vision on
center of light and glory from which the
ineffable face of the Man-God looked out
in welcome, but again she had wandered
back to the thought OF Stewart gazing uD-
on her dead face. She must try that it
should be calm and smiling at the last
Here, Nomad, here !" she said. and
her hoarse voice sounded awesome to
herself. AS the dog crouched close to
her, she drew her handkerchief from her
pocket, and felt with her bare hands TO
find if there were a monogram worked
on it. Better still. she could tell by the
outline that it was one that haS Ma
tkilde" worked on it in full.
She knotted it as firmly as her numb
fingers could manage TO the dogs .ollar,
and then. pointing uAthe band. said as
clearly as she was able: "Hie on home,
HE onr' But, although the dog ran
some distance, he still returned to hover
around her. and she had no strength for
another effort Her mind was now far
away in childhood's haunts ar home, and
once she whispered Mother - Her head
fell back against the tree. and Nomad sat
beside her, making the woods echo with
his long. slow bowls.
Meanwhile. these hours that were such
a long agony to Mathilde had been event
full ones at the house. There had never
been but one person at Orwell who had
witnessed one of Mrs. Herbert's outbursts