San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1926-01-15
Sandy Refuses to Be Seen
With Ben Murillo at
Mothers Funeral.
CHAPTER 70

IOur nuSDd1QA Drought
these" Angus Mcneil came
into Sandy's room and laid
an armful of clothes on the
bed. 1t was very late-thc
night before the funeral.
Look at them and see if
they're all right"
Her black bengaline with
the white ermine collar and
cuffs-a three-piecc suit new just be-
fore she ran away. And the small
black hat with bunch of white ig-
rcttes on the side.
"He wants you TO wear them tomor-
row."
Sandy colored, her astonishment re-
placed Immediately with chill, mourn
full bitterness. He brought clothes be-
cause she would be pointed out as
Ben Murillo's wife. She must look
the part.
She shook out the coat and laid it
down again carefully.
Angus fiddled with his watch fob.
his large eyes moving uneasily. "Well?
Well-what shall | tell him?'
"Oh, they're quite all right. He
IN fol
them
Angus shook his head vaguely, took
a determined step toward the door and
paused abruptly: You're to walk
down the aisle with him. OF course,
you realize this
For an instant her fingers loitcrcd
on the silky fur. She raised her head
her breath bursting, turned to her
father with white, quivering face. mo,
1 don't realize it. I'm not going to
walk down the aisle with him. I'm
going with Alice"
Alice is going with me. Do you in.
tend TO make a scene at time like
this! You know it was your mothers
dearest wish to have you return to
your husband her dying hope
that you would see the light. Your
poor mother sacrificed herself for her
children. If she could speak now she
would ask you to do this. You can
give this last tribute to her memory. +"
Sandy pressed her fingers against
her cheeks, steadied herself against the
blood rising in sitting tide. mo
| will not walk with him."
Her fathers green eyes, now black,
lit with anger. He thrust his hands
furiously in his pocekts and glared at
Sandy. Then he walked stiffly from
the room. zee
She heard him thudding down the
long, narrow hall to the room adjuin-
ing Alice's; heard his shoes drop
heavily
She felt sick with a cold, .whimper.
ing chill.
Downstairs in the old salon parlors,
candles burned above the coffin, she'd
ding a gentle light on Isabcl's still
face and folded hands. The soft, wavy
hair was fluffed prettily against the
satin cushions.
That vague, fleeing smile seemed
caught on her mouth as though she
rested happily here, liking the grace
ful. violet robe: liking the dignity
and peace.
Would she ask this-that Sandy
walk down the aisle with Ben Mu-
rillo! Sandy touched the lace at her
mothers neck. All, yes-Angus was
right. II Isabel could speak, she
would ask it.
And she would ask It, feeling it
her right to point out the path; never
doubling that the way she saw was
he right way. Sandy must follow
it.. Even from the grave Isabel
would now reach out and demand
this.
Sandy trcmbled. How complete was
her mothers belief in her own infal-
iib1ity. And how grimly she had en-
forced it. This sweet, shallow, rctir-
ing personality had yet gone through
life with the force of juggernaut,
riding stolidly over Alice, over Made
line, over Sandy.
And now she was gonc-but asking
Continued on Page 81, Part -