The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1914-05-28
CHAPTER XIX.
Niuht,

Night.
A quicker breeze was stirring as
John Valiant went back along the Red
Road. He had waited in the garden
at Rosewood till Shirley aided by
Emmaline and with Ranston's anxious
face lowering in the background. hav-
ing performed those gentle otllces
which a woman's fainting spell re-
quires. had come to reassure him and
to say good night
AS he threw off his coat in the
bedroom he had chosen for his. own,
he felt the hard corner of the Lucille
in the pocket, and drawing it out, laid
it on the table by the bedside. he
seemed to feel again the tingle or
his cheek where a curling strand OF
her coppery hair had sprung against it
when her head had bent beside his
own to read the marked lines.
When he had undressed he sat an
hour in the candle-blaZe, a dressing
gown thrown over his shoulders, strlv-
ing vainly to recreate that evening
call, to remember her every word and
look and movement. For breath
her face would flush suddenly before
him, like live thing; then 1t would
mysteriously fade and elude him,
though he clenched his hands on the
arms of his chair in the fierce mental
effort to recall it. Only the intense
blue of her eyes, the tawny sweep of
her hair-these and the touch of her,
the consciousness of her warm and
vivid fragrance, remained to wrap all
his senses III mist woven of gold
and fire.
Shirley, meanwhile, had sat some
time beside her mothers bed, leaning
from a white chintZ-covered chair, her
anxiety only partially allayed by reas-
surances. now and then STOPPING to lay
her young cheek against the delicate
arm in it's lacy sleeve or to pass her
hand lovingly up and down its outline,
noting with a recurrent passion of ten
derness the transparency Of the skin
with it's violet veining and the shad-
ows beneath the closed eyes. Emma
line, moving on soft worsted-shod feet
about the dim room, at length had
whispered.
You go tub bald, honey. | stay
with Mis- Judith till she go tub sleep.
Yves, go, Shirley" said her mother.
Haven't any privileges at all? Can't
even faint when feel like it, without
calling out the fire-brigade? You'll
pamper me to death and heaven knows
don't need it."
You won't let me telephone for Doc
| tor Southall?"
Certainly mott"
And you are sure it was nothing
| but the roses?"
"Why, what else should it be-" said
her mother almost peevishly. Il must
really have the arbors thinned out. On
heavy nights it's positively overpower'
ing. Go along now, and we'll talk
about it tomorrow. | can ring If
want anything"
In her room Shirley undressed
| thoughtfully. There was between her
and her mother a fine tenuous bond
of sympathy and feeling as rare, per.
haps. as it was lovely. She could not
remember when the other had not
been a semi-invalid, and her earliest
| childhood recollections were punctu-
ated with the tap of the little cane
| Tonights sudden indisposition had
| shocked and disturbed her; to faint
| at rush of perfume seemed to sug
gest growing weakness that was
alarming Tomorrow, she told herself
| she would send Ranston with wagon
load of the roses to the hospital at
| Charlottesville.
She slipped on pink shell-shaded
| dressing-gown of slinky silk with a
riot of azaleas scattered in the weave
and then, dragging her chair before
the open window, drew aside the light
curtain and began to brush her hair
All at once her gaze fell upon the
floor, and she shrank backward from q
twisting thread-like thing whose bright
saffron-yellow g!owed sharply against
the dark carpet. She saw in an in
slant, however, that it was nothing
more dangerous than fragment Of
love-vine from the garden, which had
! chung to her skirt. She picked VI
the tiny mass of tendrils and with 6
slow smile tossed it over her right
/ shoulder through the window. "If II
takes root" she said aloud, my sweet
| heart loves me-" She leaned from the
sill to peer down into the misty gar
den, but could not follow it's fall
Long ago her visitor would have
reached Damory Court. She had &
vision of him wandering, candle In
hand, through the empty echoins
rooms. looking at the voiceless por
traits on the walls, thinking perhap.
of his father, of the fatal duel of which
he had never known. She liked the
way he had spoken of his father!