The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1913-05-19

Ihen Ia like to put my hands on
the cuss that done IT, I'd make him
Jump clean out OF his skin to get shut
of me-"
me honest fellow galloped back to
the farm through the mud, and In the
race OF cold rain that drenched him
10 the skin. II was early candle-light
when he entered the lane, and he
walked his horse up the strip of soggy
turf while he meditated on what he
should tell Mrs. Landray. The storm
mad driven her from the porch, but as
ne TUNED the corner OF the house on
Ms way To the barn he saw her face
at the library window. and merely
shook his head
| When he had stabbed and fed his
horse be hurried into the kitchen.
Martha, his wife, met him with look
OF inquiry on her broad, good-natured
! face.
No letters?" she asked, and he an
swered her with her own words, mo
letters.
There's a drink OF brandy for you.
Sam she said Mrs. Landray want
ed you should have it,"
Sam stalked TO the table and emp
tied the glass at swallow.
| Best French spirits! The Landrays
always was gentlemen when II came
10 their drinks
We are expecting things, we are.
said his wife. You're to be ready to
60 into town after supper for the doc
tor, II he's wanted"
In the dining.room with its dark
twalnut wainscoting, doubly sombre In
the half light OF the fickering candles
that burnt on the mantel, Virginia
watched and waited alone. No sound
| came from the room above: silence
filled the house with hush that was
like expectation. But moment be-
fore she had heard Martha moving
&c and fro: chair had been pushed
across the floor. and she had heard
the sound OF voices She had listened
!ntently but the words they spoke had
been indistinguishable; perhaps Jane
was resting more quietly now.
An hour hah elapsed since Sam had
ratified out OF the yard in the covered
cart, the beat of his horses hoofs on
the spOngy earth soon dying away in
the distance. He had been dispatched
In urgent haste into town. TO bring DR..
Harrison.
Meanw lille Martha had the care OF
the sick woman; for Virginia had no
heart to go near her. II she should be
needed, or IL Jane asked for her, then
she would go; but not unless. The
situation with its hope and uncer-
tainty baffled her usually ready cour-
age; she could only think of that boy
ish husband, for so Jane described
him, and his absence and silence. Why
had he gone--he of all men? What
fitness had he, with his impractical
Latin and Greek. for the hard actuali-
ties of the plains?
From her seat before the fire, she
heard the sullen insistant rush OF the
wind outside; and at intervals the dull
'surging echoes the wooded heights OF
Landray's Hill gave TO the storm They
had roared among those oaks for per-
haps a thousand years. as now, when
the grey clouds and slanted mists OF
the equinox were tossed and twisted
in the face OF the night. She rested
her cheek in the palm of her hand;
she heard the fall OF the rain In luli
Of the storm; and again rising out or
the silence, the wind, as it rOared on
the hill and sweeping nearer beat
against the suffered windows high up
in the gable OF the old stone mill; then
it drbbed and died away on the
brown meadow land of the Little Riv
CT bottom.
Jane was quite happy; how happy,
Virginia had only her woman's in
stinct TO tell her; she had talked in
cessantly all day of the future when
her husband should have returned.
But what II he did not return, what
was in store for her then? This doubt
now took possession Of Virginia's
fancy, for her own hope had crumbled;
perhaps 1t was only the night, the
loneliness: perhaps later when all was
over, her courage would come back:
and then there was the morrow, 1t
might bring the looked-for letters: 1t
surely would. she had waited patient
ly: but now-now she could endure
no longer
Presently disturbing her revery the
brass knocker on the front door sound
ed discOrdantly. She rose hurriedly,
and picking up candle FASTENED out
into the hall to admit DR.. Harrison;
but she admitted more than the doc
tor; for there In the portly physi-
clans shadow. bowling and smiling,
not quite diffident and not quite conf
dent, stood young Jacob Benson.
The doctor was saying as Virginia
opened the door, 80 II was you, ia
cob; we heard your horse laundering
through the mud after lis all the way
out from town and wondered who 1t
was"
Yes, II was ], DOCTOR" but Benson
looked past him to Virginia, who stood
in the doorway shading the light she
held with one hand. There was
brief silence; the doctor seemed to
smile behind the turned-up collar OF
his great coat. The lawyer spoke first.
II trust you are not Ill, Mrs. Lam
dray?" he said.
II? Oh, no. Mr. Benson-pray come
in"
! The doctor grinned at Virginia, who
gave him slightly embarrassed
glance: and Benson noting II. felt
somehow that he was in the way; yet
he followed the physician into the hal!
and closed the door. In the library,
DR.. Harrison promptly Invested him
( self OF his outer coat and fell to warm
ing his hands before the fire. Benson
stood at a little distance lingering the
rim of his hat, and wondering who
was i'll since II was not Virginia.
"You must have had very disa-
sreeabe ride, DOCTOR" Virginia was