Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-06-16
CHAPTER XXIII-Continued.

She had received a brief note from him.
penciled on the train and a clipping from
New York paper with the program of
the Boston meeting. He had missed her,
he said. and would be glad to be home
again. tThere was a little sigh, she
knew. that accompanied such a declara-
ton as this. implying WEAKNESS of public
cares and a longing for the peace worn
warriors crave at their own firesides).
The clipping she placed on his dressing
table; the note she tossed into the fire
contemptuously
drive with Walsh. and found to her sur
prise that the thought of going with him
had grown less hateful. Even If he had
undertaken to watch her. it was rather
interesting that one had to be watched
Her husband had sacrificed her on the
altar of his own vanity without the slight
est conjunction. The dignity of life. the
fine security and chivalrous protection
which she had expected to gain by her
marriage had faded into nothing.
She put on her hat and coat and waited
for Walsh at her sitting-room window,
and punctually at half-past his cutter
whirled smartly into the grounds and
round to the porte cochere She took ac-
count Of his burly figure and his sturdy
arms holding the taut reins over the
spirited. graceful animal he drove. His
cap. drawn low on his head, made him
almost grotesque.
She was about to run down, to save him
the trouble Of ringing. when the maid
brought her an ifnmediate-delivery letter
that had just been left at the door. She
glanced at the superscription and clutched
it In her gloved fingers for a moment be-
fore opening II. as though at truce with
bad news. 1t was a letter Of length.in a
womans hand. loose and scrawing: as
though by one distraught. Mrs. Craig
hill raised her veil and read, or rather
she caught at the sentences. which
seemed to dart at her from the paper:
Il was never 50 outrageously treated in
my life. The idea that my daughter s
husband should be ashamed Of me! l
hope you will not misjudge me-you have
not always been just with me: but /
only did what was entirely proper The
fact that he thought l had gone abroad
after your marriage had nothing to do
strange you hadn't told him of any
change of plans. 1t was none of his bust
ness. mailed him my card and a
line that ! would like to see him. / read
erick's, and your note told me that you
would not be here. Why you didn't come
i still don't understand. I sent my card
to him and waited day. Then on the
afternoon Of the second day I went to the
house and asked for him. Oh, you needn't
curl your lip; tell you don't intend to
have him ignore me in that fashion. They
told me he was resting. but I wasn't to
be put of. He came down and was de-
cent enough at first: then said he had to
be excused as he was to speak that night
and needed rest. I held him long enough
to tell him that had got tired of wait
ing for an invitation to visit you and that
was coming down right away. He said
that you were free to do as you liked
about having visitors; that he supposed
] was in Italy. mildly suggested that
+ was q little short OF money. and ..e
shut up like clam. A iady-I suppose
1t was the Mrs. Broderick you hear SO