Perhaps that was the meaning of all this happiness to her, and the
result was to be only the happiness and reconciliation of the wife and
husband. This was to be her reward. I grieve to say that the tears had
come into her beautiful eyes at this satisfactory conclusion, but she
dashed them away and ran out into the hall. It was quite dark, but there
was a faint glimmer on the opposite wall as if the door of Mrs. Barker's
bedroom were ajar to an eager listener. She flew towards the glimmer,
and pushed the door open: the room was empty. Empty of Mrs. Barker,
empty of her dressing-box, her reticule and shawl. She was gone.
Still, Mrs. Horncastle lingered; the woman might have got frightened and
retreated to some further room at the opening of the door and the coming
out of her husband. She walked along the passage, calling her name
softly. She even penetrated the dreary, half-lit public parlor,
expecting to find her crouching there. Then a sudden wild idea took
possession of her: the miserable wife had repented of her act and of
her concealment, and had crept downstairs to await her husband in the
office. She had told him some new lie, had begged him to take her with
him, and Barker, of course, had assented. Yes, she now knew why she
had heard the rattling wheels instead of the clattering hoofs she had
listened for. They had gone together, as he first proposed, in the
buggy.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141