The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1914-05-22
CHAPTER lv.-continued.

parents
CHAPTER iV.-Continued.
Beside Sara Wrandall, on the small,
pink divan, sat stranger in this SOM
Der company: young woman in
black, whose pale face was uncovered.
and whose lashes were lifted so rarely
chat one could not know Of the deep.
real pain that lay behind them. in her
Irish blue eyes.
She had arrived at the house an
hour or two before the time set for
the ceremony, in company with the
widow. True to her resolution, the
widow of Challis Wrandall had re-
manned away from the home OF his
people until the last hour. She had
been consulted. to be sure, In regard
to the final arrangements, but the
meetings had taken place in her own
apartment, many blocks distant from
the house In lower Fifth avenue. The
Redmond Wrandall and Leslie, his
son. She had not sent for them. They
came perfunctorily and not through
any sense of obligation. These two
at least knew that sympathy was not
what she wanted, but peace. Twice
during the two trying days, Leslie had
come to see her, Vivian telephoned.
On the occasion of his first visit,
Leslie had met the guest in the house.
The second time he called, he made
It point to ask Sara all about her.
1t was he who gently closed the
door after the two women when, on
che morning Of the funeral, they en-
tered the dark, fower-laden room in
which stood the casket containing the
body of his brother. He left them
alone together in that room for half
an hour or more, and 1t was he who
went forward to meet them when they
came forth. Sara leaned on his arm
as she assembled the stairs to the room
where the others were waiting. The
ashen-faced girl followed.
Mrs. Wrandall, the elder, kissed
Sara and drew her down beside her
on the couch. To her own surprise, as
well as that Of the others, Sara broke
down and wept bitterly. After all.
she was sorry for Challis' mother. 1t
was the human instinct. she could not
hold out against it. And the older
woman put away the ancient grudge
she held against this mortal enemy
and dissolved into tears of real com.
passion.
A little later she whispered broken
ty In Sara's ear: "My dear, my dear,
this has brought us together. I hope
you will learn to love me-"
Sara caught her breath, but uttered
no word. She looked into her mother
in-law's eyes, and smiled through her
tears. The Wrandalls, looking on in
amaze, saw the smile reflected in the
face Of the older woman. Then it was
her arms about the shoulders of her
sister-inlaw. The white flag on both
sides.
Hetty Castleton stood alone and wa
vering, Just inside the door. No
stranger situation could be imagined
than the one in which this unfortunate
girl found herself at the present mo-
ment She was virtually in the hands
Of those who would destroy her; she
was in the house of those who most
deeply were affected by her act on
that fatal night. Among them all she
stood, facing them, listening to the
means and sobs. and yet her limbs did
not give way beneath her.
Some one gently touched her arm.
It was Leslie. She shrank back, a
fearful look in her eyes. In the semi
darkness he failed to note the express
sion.
Wont you sit here?" he asked, in
dicating the little pink divan against
the wall. Forgive me for letting you
stand SO long"
She looked about her, the wild light
still in her eyes. She was like a rat
In trap.
Her lips parted, but the word of
thanks did not come forth. A strange,
inarticulate sound, almost a gasp,
came instead. Pallid as ghost, she
dropped Imply to the divan. and dug
her fingers into the satiny seat. As
II fascinated, she stared over the
black heads of the three women imme-
diately in front of her at the full
length portrait hanging where the
tight from the hall fell upon it: the
portrait Of a dashing youth in riding
toys.
A moment later Sara Wrandall came
over and sat beside her. The girl
shivered as with mighty chill when
the warm hand of her friend fell upon
hers and enveloped it in firm clasp.
His mother kissed me-" whispered
Sara did you see?"
The girl could not reply. She could
only stare at the oren door. A small,
hatchet-faced man had come up from
below and was nodding his head to
Leslie Wrandall-a man with short
side whiskers. and a sepulchral look
In his eyes. Then. having received a
sign from Leslie, he tiptoed away. Al
most instantly the voices of people
singing softly came from some distant
remote part of the house.
And then, a little later. the per
fectly modulated voice of a man in
prayer.
Back of her. Wrandalls: beside her,
wrandails: beneath her. friends of the
wrandalls: outside. the rabhle, those
vrhc gould ioip with these hracE