The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1914-01-02
CHAPTER vii.
Betty's Carte de visite.

iDOut = a. H.. when all the
~ little household slept. MIR. Van
Zandt. who had made not wen
q feint Of lying down. put on his rag
Ian and hat. and went out into the
street; merely to step up to the corne
and around it: a few PAGES further
to where the two big horse chestnut
trees We're casting their gaunt winter
shadows across the moonlit sidewalk;
up the stop Of Mrs. Van Zandt's half
Of the house; the key he had never
ceased to carry in his pocket, out, and
fitted to the latch; the door pushed
softly back and closed; the master
within the precinct of the mistress.
He stood still; his glance going first
to the arcbway and its curtains behind
which he supposed the brick wall to
have been built all those years ago.
Then to the staircase: the clock ticking
on: the niche with the statue of Ceres
in it. the landing where she had stood.
She had been there. Not a dozen
hours since. Betty. his wife. had come
down where he was now going up, for
Peter vent up to the second floor,
where the food of radiance from the
open doors Of Mrs. Van Zandt's room
greeted him.
He halted in the wide hall and lean
ed at her threshold. He did not enter.
His eyes took in all the old. familiar.
sweet things she had used-the chair
that was her favorite. the vases from
Marking that were her pleasure. the
silver candlesticks on her dressing ia
BILE. the trinkets. the hand mirrors. the
pictures. the Christmas wreaths. the
mahogany bedstead. with its tall carv-
ed headboard close to the door. its
down quilt a little disturbed. Il pillow
to one side. something Just projecting
from under the pillow.
A card! Could Betty have left there
another message? His hand shook as
he reached in and drew the scrap from
under the pillow. for Peter Van Zandt
did not cross the sill of that room.
1t was a little carte de visite. as the
photographs Of that day were called.
and 1t was. yes. it was Betty. Chang
ed? Not SO much. Older? Not an
hour. But most serene. her smiles just
at the corners Of her mouth. Yes. Bet
ty. and vet. no: not quite entirely.
Perhaps 1t was the style of dress. Sew
entecn years make differences in a wo-
mans gown. This Betty wore u short
skirt with some arrangement looping
it on the hips called. he believed. pan
nicrs. aud Il sack Of fur with hanging
sleeves. Il cap Of fur on top Of her
curly head.
Peter turned it over. To be sure.
i'm Betty's own handwriting. Betty
Van Zandt. Limoges. Oct. 1G. 49,"
Taken only about two month ago. He
slipped it Into his pocket. turned
around. vent down aud went ont. eau
tiously rs a thief In the night. around
into his own portion of the old house.
When Betty reached Limoges no one
was at the station to meet her. because
no at the chateau knew that she
was to arrive. When she got to the
chateau. driving mp in Il sleigh in great
.iingling of bells and calls of the driv-
er who rode the smallest of his lean
beasts, the One was at the step to
welcome her with such a wealth of
warmth as made her coming back Il
joy. BY and by. when, these two were
alone together in the long salon. for
the colonel had much business down
in the city ut the consulate, Of course.
Betty was told Il story.
BY the One? OF course. A story as
sweet. as tender. AS full of happiness,
hope. as had been the story Peter Van
1Zandt had told her more than seven
teen years before. WI
And Betty listened2
Yes: she listened. and the comfort
and pleasure Of that which the One
told her vas inexpressibly grateful:
not as had been the comfort OF Peters
story. but rs the later shadow Of that
first Eden.
Yes: Betty listened and was content.
While Retty. in Limoges. was listen,
ing to all the One had to tell her day
in and day out, night in and night out.
Peter Van Zandt was in India.
SMI w DAYS only. after his odd,
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