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meme poeta, —— - ee tence
4 .—--—--
WILD MARGARET, 147
the wedding one—and placed_them, together with the
bracelets, chains and trinkets Blair had given her, on the
dressing-table. The plain band of gold, inconsistent as 16
seemed, she allowed to remain on her finger. Then she
changed her dress for the plain traveling costume in which
she had been married. . a
In doing so, she saw the locket—Blair’s first gift! With
trembling hands she began_to. untie the ribbon, then she
faltered. Sbe had promised him that she would not part
with this. Surely she could keep this to remind her of
the time when she first tasted happiness, the time when
she had thought him all that was true and noble.
The temptation to keep these two things that should
seem as links between her and the past—so bitter, and yet
80 sweet!—proved too strong, and she let the locket fall -
into its place again over her heart.
The warm glow of evening was over the landscape by
the time her simple preparations for flight were made, ~
and drawing her veil on her pale and haggard face, she
stole down the stairs. |
In the narrow passage stood Mrs. Day. ~
‘Are you going out, ma’am?”’ she said.
1 Margaret moistened her lips, and tried to answer care-
essly ;
“Yes, Mrs. Day.”
“T don’t think you ought to go far, ma’am,”’ she said;
‘we are going to have a storm. Will you take an um-
brella or your mackintosh?’ and she looked toward the
west, where a great bank of clouds seemed to rise from
the horizon, as if about to swallow the sun in its inky
ass,
‘*T will take my mackintosh,”’ said Margaret.
Mrs. Day took it off the stand and folded it. .’
“I hope Mr. Stanley will be back before the storm
reaks,’”’- she said. ‘*You won't go far, ma’am?” she
. added, wistfully.
‘No, not far,’’ said poor Margaret. oo
She took the mackintosh on her armand walked out and
down the path. Then suddenly she heard the sound, of a
od, and, looking ‘back, saw Mrs. Day with her hand to
r face. .
. Even in that hour of her supreme anguish, Margaret's
gentle heart could beat in sympathy with another's sor-
Tow, and she went back.
What is the matter?” she asked hoarsely.
Mrs. Day forced a smile, but her eyes W
tears, . , / oat be
“It’s nothing—nothing much, ma’am,” she said. “I
eg your pardon for distressing you, but—but the boat
ere full of