The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1937-08-27
CHAPTER x

Other sounds, Victoria sat up In
bed with her heart pumping. Ev-
erything was all wrong, cold, terri
flying, shaken again. For Quentin,
cautiously coming upstairs, had only
put out his porch light, had snapped
out the drive light. Now the car
lights were up again, and the car
itself was slowly wheeling on the
drive.
Victoria, not knowing what she
did, was on her own upper porch,
trembling with cold and fear and
despair in her thin wrapper, with
her feet bare and her eyes straining
after the departing car.
She saw the car turn, saw it
leave the gates again, saw it turn
toward the Morrisons' house. 1t
stopped at the side door, and pres
emily a house light went up, and
then the car lights were put out.
Shrubs shut the doorway partially
from the window porch where Vic
toria stood with all her world going
to pieces about her, but she could
discern two figures silhouetted for
an instant against the open door.
Then it closed, and presently the
downstairs light went out, too, and,
the cold Christmas countryside and
her life and her love and her faith
were all plunged into cold dark
ness.
An. iron winter sky was low over
| the world when morning came with
out sunrise; Vicky, waking at sew
en-, shivered YEARLY down again
into her warm blankets. 1t would be
good to stay in bed on such morn
ing, she thought, still caught in
dreams-what morning was this,
anyway? Good heavens, this was
Christmas eve-with everything to
do
Then she remembered, and the
gray dark morning seemed darker,
and her bones, her head, her whole
being seemed to ache with the bitter
necessity of coming back to con-
seriousness. All, if she could only
stay asleep, and go on from sleep
to death, beautiful, warm, friendly
death
She lay thinking, her throat thick,
her head confused, her heart and
mind in confusion. Quentin. Quen-
tin and Serena Morrison.
Victoria suddenly felt that she
was suffocating, strangling. She
flung off the blankets, reached for
her heavy wrapper even while she
was cropping with her feet for her
fur-lined slippers.
"B-r-r-r!" she muttered, going to
the opened window, shutting it with
one swift gesture. The garden be-
low the window lay bleak and bare
under fine frosting of white;
delicate powdering of frost COW
cred the bricks of the walks and lay
like lace on the soaked bronze red
of the leaf pile under the oaks.
She splashed her face with cold
water, brushed her hair, looked at
the ghostly vision in the mirror.
After a while she went down.
stairs, to sit holding her coffee cup
at the level of her mouth, an elbow
resting on the table, her eyes far
away. She could eat nothing, but
she managed few swallows of cof-
fee; managed a question to the
maid:
Ibid the doctor have his break
fast, Anna?" ....
"No, ma'am. He had a cup Of
coffee standing, in the kitchen, he
wouldn't sit down. He had an eight
o'clock at the Dante"
"Did he say anything about din
ner?"
"He said he'd have Miss Cone
telephone"
All the Keatses would be coming
down tomorrow to have Christmas
dinner with all the Hardistys. There
would be presents for all the little
Keatses upon the little Hardistys'
tree. This was Christmas eve. Hate
full, uncomfortable, empty, Christmas
eve and Christmas day must some
how be endured,
She mounted the two flights of
stairs to her mothers room. Magda
always stayed in bed in the morn
ings; this morning she had fire,
and was cozily ensconced in her
pillows, with her light burning, and
her breakfast tray on her knees.
"You look tired" Magda said,
with a glance.