Ttl BY-WAYS 
 O? DRAITHE 
 
 FIANCES POWELL
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 S 
 

 
 THE BY-WAYS OF 
 BRAITHE 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCES POWELL 
 
 AUTHOR OP "THE HOUSE ON THE HUDSOM" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1907
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'8 SONS 
 
 Published, May, 1904
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF 
 BRAITHE 
 
 2137742
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Seed, Xeafe, Stalfce, f loure, 
 
 f>ave evil Savour, 
 pltflbt troutbe $ aftb ano Ijonour, 
 
 l?saveo vvcle 3Sraitbc to ano r. 
 Bew Xeafc, Stalhe, jf lourc. 
 
 Dave Soot ff air Savour. 
 
 It was high noon, and the little valley was flooded 
 with sunshine. This was good for delicate little 
 Jane, who sat in her cart perched high on the bank 
 above the brook, watching my struggles with a big 
 hot-bed frame that I was trying to place over the 
 water-cresses. There had been frost during the 
 night, but it had spared the cresses, and I wished to 
 coax them to live a little longer for Janey's sake. 
 She liked them with her bread and butter. 
 
 The tiny valley, with its brook, was situated mid- 
 way between Braithe House, which stood on the 
 high edge of the plateau near the river, and what 
 had once been the entrance gates, a mile to the west. 
 Formerly Braithe Manor had boasted an avenue two 
 miles in length ; but that was before the new road by 
 the river, from Hilltown, had been opened. This 
 highway turned into what had been our avenue, up 
 the hill westward from the valley, and joined the old 
 inland stage road at the point where our entrance 
 
 1
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 had once stood. Now, lodge, gates, and gate-keeper, 
 had vanished forever. 
 
 It was across a ruinous stone arch, spanning the 
 brook, and on between two stone pillars, fast crum- 
 bling away, that we now entered the mile of avenue 
 leading to Braithe. So were the past glories of the 
 Manor shorn! 
 
 In the hot-bed frame there remained but few 
 panes of glass, and these were cracked. Still they 
 might protect the cresses, could I get them in place; 
 but the frame was very heavy. 
 
 "Here come Mr. and Mrs. Gill!" cried Janey, from 
 her cart. 
 
 The Chevalier, our gold and tan collie, stopped 
 digging for moles, to look up and listen. 
 
 "O Charles Stuart!" said Jane, reproachfully, 
 "your nose is thick with mud. And Mrs. Gill ad- 
 mires you so much!" 
 
 The Chevalier's fine manners were not a whit al- 
 tered by this fact; and he dashed forward, to meet 
 the buggy coming down the Farm Road, as gayly 
 courteous as if his coat were spotless. Janey's cart 
 was on the edge of this road, which led northward 
 through the woods to Braithe Farm, and the buggy 
 drew up beside her. 
 
 "Little Miss Janey!" cried Mrs. Gill kindly, lean- 
 ing out, "And how does she do?" Then, catching 
 sight of me, "Well, Miss Theo, what are you tryin' 
 to do with that tremenjious frame?" 
 
 I explained. 
 
 "I want to know!" she ejaculated, staring at me 
 through gold-rimmed spectacles. "I'm afraid it's 
 quite a little heavy." 
 
 "It is heavy," I assented, and looked at Mr. Gill 
 and smiled. 
 
 He bounced out of the buggy, and running down 
 the bank grasped the opposite end of the frame with 
 
 2
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 fat white fingers. He was Mrs. Gill's latest hus- 
 band, her third; a puffy-faced, richly attired young 
 man. Observing his green satin neck-tie, with its 
 pattern of red horseshoes, and gold tandem-whip 
 scarf-pin, I concluded that he and Mrs. Gill were on 
 their way to visit friends; so I was the more sorry 
 when, in his eagerness to help me, his foot slipped, 
 and he slid into the water. Casting a frightened 
 glance toward the buggy, he scrambled out, but one 
 trouser leg was soaking wet, and his immaculate 
 shirt cuffs soggy. Little Jane, leaving her cart as 
 the accident happened Janey was very quick- 
 witted clambered into the buggy, and held Mrs. 
 Gill in earnest conversation. 
 
 "I am so very, very sorry, Mr. Gill," I murmured 
 remorsefully. "Let me dry your cuffs with my 
 handkerchief," and I drew it out, forgetting, until I 
 saw it, that it was what Janey called a make-believe, 
 and not the real article. A square of green-sprigged 
 muslin, carelessly hemmed, once a gown of Lydia's, 
 then a frock for Janey, at last eight handkerchiefs. 
 In some places the green sprigs had become holes. 
 Mr. Gill gallantly pretended not to be surprised by 
 this curious bit of economy on the part of Miss 
 Braithe of Braithe Manor, but he seemed agitated 
 when I tried to dry his cuffs. "It is a shame, when 
 you looked so nice, and were so kind in helping me ! 
 See, the frame is just where it should be; I could 
 never have managed it alone. Janey will be de- 
 lighted." 
 
 "Don't mention it, Miss Braithe, don't mention 
 it!" he said hurriedly, and followed me up the bank, 
 blushing deeply. 
 
 Mr. Gill was an astute young man, and knew how 
 to keep on the right side of his elderly wife. This 
 he proved by walking a little behind me on our way 
 to the buggy, and by taking advantage of my speak- 
 
 3
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ing with Mrs. Gill, to mount quickly beside her, and 
 conceal his damp trouser leg in the folds of her 
 gown. They drove off in high good-humor, some- 
 thing that Mr. Gill said in a low tone seeming to 
 please Mrs. Gill mightily. 
 
 "Her spectacles chock-full of dust!" said Janey, 
 climbing slowly into her cart. 
 
 "Dust, Janey?" 
 
 "Yes, Theo, yes; the dust of his flattery. And 
 he fairly busting with pride because of you! Well, 
 you got the frame fixed, anyway." And she laughed 
 in her elfish fashion. 
 
 "Did you remember to thank her for the cream, 
 Goldilocks?" 
 
 "Yes," she said irritably, "and I hope she won't 
 send any more. I know, I know, Theo; you needn't 
 trouble to say 'she means to be kind'! I know that 
 as well as you, but she does ask such tiresome ques- 
 tions; and I had to keep her talking, because of 
 your ways. It's always, 'How old are you, dearie?' 
 'Ten, Mrs. Gill.' 'And you look eight, and talk 
 fourteen!' Then she sighs, and admires my hair" 
 the child glanced at the splendid masses that 
 shrouded her to the waist "but she says to her- 
 self, 'Poor hunchbacked little creature! I must 
 send her something.' There! Charles Stuart's 
 digging again! Chevalier, Chevalier! Come, sir, 
 come!" 
 
 It was mid-October. The locust trees, lined up 
 on either side the avenue, like a guard of honor, wore 
 uniforms of gold. Many of the dark cedars, climb- 
 ing the opposite hill-side, had mantles of scarlet 
 woodbine. The Chevalier, racing across the bridge 
 to join us, looked like a yellow leaf, whirled along 
 by the wind. 
 
 "He should drag me up this hill, not you, Theo!" 
 said Janey. "I'm sorry I was cross just now. I 
 
 4
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 remembered it was your birthday, too. I was afraid 
 Mrs. Gill might ask your age, but she didn't. I 
 meant to lie if she did. I should hate to hear her 
 say, 'Twenty-three and not married yet! I want 
 to know!' How could you possibly care to marry, 
 with father in the house but Mrs. Gill's a fool. 
 Father's certainly a scourge a scourge of scorpions. 
 Why do they make the devil a dark man, Theo? 
 Oh, I know ! It's because he contrasts better with the 
 red-and-yellow hell behind him. For the ice-and- 
 snow hell I should think a fair D. would go better. 
 Father would make a splendid one. He has such a 
 nasty expression in his blue eyes the real Braithe 
 look! I haven't it in mine, have I, Theo?" in a sud- 
 den agony of fear. "Say I haven't, say it quick!" 
 
 "Goose! Your blue eyes are lovely, and you 
 know it, little vain thing! Want any more compli- 
 ments, missy? Now's your time, because it's my 
 birthday. Shall I crown the Cats with. red leaves in 
 its honor?" 
 
 We had reached the gate in the iron fence that 
 inclosed the lawns and gardens, shutting them off 
 from the meadow-land edging the avenue thus far. 
 On the stone pillars of the gate sat stone leopards, 
 holding each, close clasped to his breast, a shield bear- 
 ing the Braithe motto : 
 
 GAKE GRIFFES. 
 
 Snarling, langs bared, quite ready, although one 
 had lost a forepaw, and long neglect, with years of 
 Exposure to wind and weather, had made them a 
 mouldy pair enough! 
 
 "They are the image of father," said little Jane. 
 "No, don't crown them, Theo. Why, look! There 
 comes a buggy down the avenue" we kept no 
 horses. "O Theo, it's father! I shall flee!" 
 
 5
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 This she did, hopping out of the cart and diving un- 
 der the fence, homeward. I waited, standing near 
 the Leopards. 
 
 The buggy drew up between the pillars, and my 
 father got out. 
 
 "Drive on a bit, please, Abel," he said to Mrs. 
 Gill's eldest son, Abel Wylde, who was driving him. 
 "I wish to say good-by to Miss Braithe." 
 
 I answered Abel's greeting; and took time to in- 
 quire after his ever feeble health, to the great, though 
 suppressed annoyance of Mr. Braithe. Himself ever 
 courteous to outsiders, he resented his children's efforts 
 toward good manners, never imagining that they might 
 feel the kindliness they expressed. 
 
 "Why waste time on that idiot, Theodora?" he 
 asked, when Abel had at last driven on. "Not that 
 I mean to find fault, love," smiling unpleasantly, 
 "but I am going to town. I only stopped to offer 
 my congratulations to my beautiful daughter upon 
 her birthday," and he kissed my cheek. 
 
 I knew he had something disagreeable to say. 
 Something particularly disagreeable, that is he 
 never said anything pleasant. He would wish, I also 
 knew, to make me lose my temper and answer back. 
 I determined not to gratify him. 
 
 "I have the opal in my pocket," he went on, 
 speaking slowly, his musical, low-toned voice exqui- 
 sitely modulated, as always as always, never mind 
 how outrageous or wicked his words might be: a 
 Braithe inheritance. "The Gypsy's Opal, Theo, that 
 your dear mother brought into the family, along with 
 a very pretty dowry." He sighed heavily. "Yes, 
 I can't but own that my two other matches have 
 been mistakes cruel mistakes. Brought about by 
 proximity a lonely country-house a sensitive nat- 
 ure!" 
 
 Thus he kept me on the rack as long as possible. 
 6
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 The twin Leopards on their high perches grinned in 
 sympathy. Tall, graceful, fair, he stood in front of 
 his ancestral shield; an aristocrat from the crown of 
 his well-poised head to the soles of his high-arched 
 feet. 
 
 "I was sorry when you proved to be a girl, Theo- 
 dora, but I bore your mother no grudge; she had 
 treated me fairly otherwise. When your first gov- 
 erness, Lilian's mother, brought another girl to 
 Braithe, I own I thought her ungrateful; but it was 
 left to Lydia to insult our House by disgracing it 
 with a hunch-backed brat." 
 
 He ceased speaking, wishing me to cry out fiercely 
 as once before whose fault it was that my dar- 
 ling's spine grew wrong; to denounce him yet again 
 for the viciously careless push that had hurled a mere 
 baby down the flight of steep stone steps to the hard 
 flagging below. I stood quite still, silent, denying 
 him satisfaction. He was disappointed, but other 
 arrows remained in his quiver. 
 
 "Well, well, I will not sadden the birthday of the 
 Beauty of Braithe by harping on forgiven injuries." 
 He took from his breast pocket a jewel-case of 
 mother-of-pearl, large, in shape oval, and held it in 
 his hand. "I hoped to clasp this about your throat 
 on your wedding-day, Theodora, but I am convinced 
 that that day will never arrive. You have inherited 
 from my side of the house a fatal fondness for idle 
 may I use the vulgar word flirtation? The only 
 expressive one really, for you are no coquette, my 
 daughter. You share with me the desire to please. 
 A praiseworthy desire in itself, only, most unfortu- 
 nately, it sometimes twice in my case carries 
 one too far. A woman, however, may draw back at 
 the last moment; as you have always done. I don't 
 blame you, Theo. How pale you are, my love! 
 And your expression, quite odd. So must your 
 
 7
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 Scotch ancestress have looked when she dragged the 
 gypsy girl into her coach and, leaning from its win- 
 dow, beat the ringleader of the pursuing mob across 
 the face with her fan. You are very pale; are you 
 ill?" 
 
 I shook my head, without speaking. I dared not 
 unleash my unruly tongue. 
 
 "This opal might bring you good luck. But no, 
 it could not; it hung at your mother's throat the day 
 she had heart-failure, and died. I was on my way 
 to her to break the news of our loss of fortune but 
 she was gone, poor girl! Do opals lose their lustre 
 from being shut away, Theo? It looks dull to me," 
 and he opened the case. 
 
 There it lay, my mother's opal for it was no 
 Braithe jewel my opal; yes, mine, by every law of 
 man. A great oval gem, clasped close by its curious 
 setting, a snake of dull gold, with its tail in its 
 mouth the symbol of eternity. The jewel did look 
 dull all pale lavenders and grays. Mr. Braithe 
 eyed it peevishly and, forgetting his amiable role, 
 broke out into sweet-voiced complaints. 
 
 "Just my damned bad luck if the cursed stone 
 should go back on me at the last moment! I wish 
 to the Lord I'd sold it years ago! Rappelle would 
 have bought it at the first chance. All Lydia's do- 
 ing sickly-faced, mewling cat! Curse her supersti- 
 tious fancies! It's enough to drive a man mad to 
 live in the same house with the two of you: you, 
 with your everlasting canting religion, and she " 
 He handed me the case. "Look at it, can't you? Is 
 there anything amiss with the damned thing?" 
 
 The blood rushed into my cheeks as I obeyed. 
 What if he should not sell it, after all? It was not 
 his, but mine ; he had no right to take it from me. I 
 looked lovingly at the gem, which suddenly blazed 
 with color. Vivid greens and crimsons flashed across 
 
 8
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 its smooth surface. My father seized it, staring 
 angrily. 
 
 "Are you in league with the devil?" he cried, 
 musically; and shutting the case with a snap, thrust 
 it into his pocket and strode away. 
 
 The buggy rolled down the avenue; the October 
 sunshine filled the air with pleasant warmth, but I 
 I felt cold.
 
 n 
 
 When Vivian de Vere Braithe quarrelled with his 
 brother, Theodore, the Head of the House, he left 
 England to seek a home in America. He not only 
 failed to warn Theodore of this important step, but 
 went away as quietly as possible, taking with him his 
 brother's promised bride, and as many valuables as he 
 could lay his hands on. "With this loot Vivian pur- 
 chased a large tract of land on the Hudson River, and 
 built himself as exact a copy as was possible of the old 
 Manor House in England secret chambers, hidden 
 passages, heraldic devices, and all. 
 
 By the time Theodore de Vere Braithe had discov- 
 ered Vivian's whereabouts the war with England be- 
 gan; and Vivian, lustily espousing the cause of his 
 adopted country, escaped punishment. 
 
 like all the Braithes, he possessed great physical 
 courage, delighting, probably, in the exhilaration that 
 danger brings. And he won not only high praise by 
 his bravery, but a most devoted henchman as well, in 
 one Etienne Rappelle t Frenchman, and private sol- 
 dier. My great-great-great-grandfather had carried 
 this young man, badly wounded, from the field of bat- 
 tle, at the risk of his own life. Had he chanced upon 
 the stranger lying, in equal need of assistance, in 
 some lonely wood-path, would old Vivian have rescued 
 him? I fear not; the good Samaritan being no kin of 
 the Braithes. 
 
 Etienne Rappelle served his rescuer faithfully all 
 his life; and trained his only son, the second Etienne, 
 
 10
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 to follow in his footsteps. The third Etienne, how- 
 ever, declined to remain in the Braithe service, al- 
 though, like his father, he took a solemn oath always 
 to stand by the family. Going to one of our "Western 
 towns, he began his career as errand-boy in a grocery 
 shop ; and as he was shrewd, industrious, and severely 
 economical, he prospered with the town, becoming 
 its chief banker. When he died the town had grown 
 a large city, and his death was felt to be a public 
 loss. 
 
 My father looked down upon Etienne IV, the gro- 
 cer's son, as he scornfully called him. Mr. Rappelle 
 inherited his father's talent for finance, and, it was 
 said, had already doubled the large fortune left him. 
 I sometimes wondered if he, too, had been obliged to 
 take the ridiculous old oath of allegiance to the 
 Braithes. I feared that he had; and that my father, 
 the present Vivian de Vere Braithe, did not scruple 
 to avail himself of the Rappelle money. How else 
 could he afford to dress so well, to spend so much time 
 in town, putting up at one of the most expensive 
 clubs? I had never met Mr. Rappelle; I hoped I 
 might never meet him; I felt I should be ashamed to 
 look him in the face, with Mr. Braithe's purse full of 
 Rappelle dollars. 
 
 My stepmother, Lydia, had a small, a very small, 
 annuity. On this we lived; and besides her pittance, 
 my father declared we had not a cent in the world. 
 Because of our poverty Mr. Braithe took us to Europe 
 when I was fourteen; and there we remained, drift- 
 ing from one cheap pension to another, until my twen- 
 ty-first birthday, when, for the sake of a problematical 
 legacy, he brought us home. The legacy was to have 
 been left Lilian by a rich great-uncle, but she was not 
 even mentioned in his will; and the expense of the 
 home-coming, and of Lilian's journey, a long one, to 
 visit this rich relative, left us very much out of pocket. 
 
 11
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 l 
 
 We lived quite alone at Braithe Manor. There 
 "were agreeable, well-bred people in Hilltown, seven 
 miles south of Braithe, and others owning country- 
 seats in its vicinity. My mother had known many of 
 these families, and so soon as we were at home again 
 they hastened, in friendly fashion, to welcome us 
 back. 
 
 "We don't live in a style to permit our enjoying 
 social intercourse with our equals," Mr. Braithe an- 
 nounced in his sweet-toned voice, "and I'm damned if 
 I'll stand being condescended to by them. Your pre- 
 tence of ill health may be turned into some service 
 now, Lydia. Say you're not able to return their 
 cursed patronizing calls; do you hear me? Send 
 cards, Madam Hypochondriac, cards. The girls ? No, 
 they shan't go, either. Theo's too fast, and Lilian's 
 too slatternly. I'm ashamed of the lot of you. Stay 
 at home." 
 
 This we did, and when Lydia and Janey were not 
 suffering, or Lilian too discontented, I was sufficiently 
 happy. Unable to pay good wages, we rarely had a 
 servant, and I was busy from morning till night; I 
 think this work did me no harm, since it left me little 
 time for grumbling; but when I crossed the lawn on 
 my way to the house that fine October morning, my 
 
 ' heart was filled to the brim with bitterness. Seeing 
 Lydia coming to meet me, I tried to keep this feeling 
 from showing in my face. Poor little fragile Lydia! 
 
 i Once pretty a pink-cheeked, small-featured blonde 
 she had faded and become prematurely old. As 
 she drew near I saw tha* her worn face was even more 
 drawn and pinched than usual. I put out my hand 
 to her. 
 
 "Don't take it so hard, Lydia !" I said with assumed 
 cheerfulness. "The opal was always in his desk, you 
 know I never really owned it. I shall mind your 
 
 .worrying yourself ill much more than its loss." 
 
 12
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "How dared he!" she said, faintly. "Oh, how 
 dared he!" 
 
 The house, built of bits of stone welded together 
 with plaster in old Revolutionary fashion now 
 loomed above us. Little Jane appeared on its thresh- 
 old, swinging wide the heavy oaken door, and looking 
 down upon us from the top of the long flight of stone 
 steps. 
 
 "Has he really, really gone?" she cried. Then, 
 nodding at her mother, "Le roi est mort, mort, mart !" 
 she sang. "Vive la reine!" And she began to dance 
 lightly back and forth a fairy child, with her spar- 
 kling eyes and mane of golden hair, against the yawn- 
 ing portal, black as the mouth of a cavern. 
 
 "Hush, Jane, hush!" said Lydia, sharply. 
 
 Turning to look at her, I was horrified by her 
 pallor. 
 
 "Janey won't fall, Lydia," I said, thinking the 
 child's position the cause of her change of color. 
 "Lean on me, pray," and I put my arm around her. 
 
 Little Jane paused in her dance, bewildered. "Do 
 I frighten you, mummy?" she queried. 
 
 "What's up?" asked a sweet, melodious voice from 
 the hall, and Lilian lounged into view. Lilian's voice 
 was intensely ladylike; her words not always so. 
 She was tall and graceful, her pretty fair hair as soft 
 and fleecy as corn-silk, and her eyes the Braithe blue. 
 She had no color unless pleasantly excited; then a 
 wild-rose flush appeared. This seldom happened at 
 Braithe, pleasant excitements being of rare occur- 
 rence. Sometimes this color came when I wondered 
 to see it, Lilian and I not always agreeing as to what 
 was pleasant. 
 
 "What's up?" she repeated. "Oh, I see. Lydia 
 faint with joy over the departure of darling pa! 
 Goodness, what a relief it is to get rid of him I I 
 think you might choose the time he's home, Lydia, to 
 
 13
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 be sick; it's disgustingly mean of you to make us un- 
 comfortable now." 
 
 She sank down on the upper step, and, leaning her 
 pretty head against the house wall, looked with con- 
 temptuous dislike at her stepmother. 
 
 "Lilian," said Lydia, solemnly, and as if sure of in- 
 stant comprehension and sympathy, "Lilian, he has 
 taken, and means to sell the Gypsy's Opal!" 
 
 "Good God!" cried Lilian, springing to her feet, 
 the wild-rose pink flushing her pale cheeks; he's 
 mad." 
 
 Stooping, she pulled up her slipper one or the 
 other was always trodden down at the heel and 
 scuffed down the steps to Lydia. 
 
 When superstitious fancies took possession of my 
 sister and stepmother they buried the hatchet and 
 were in complete sympathy. I went on into the house, 
 wishing I might take Janey with me, for she was ea- 
 gerly listening to her elders' unwise discussion; but 
 her mother approved of her hearing everything, so I 
 was powerless. 
 
 The entrance hall, though well-sized, served as a 
 mere vestibule to the larger one, which, occupying 
 the middle of the house, rose to the roof. A gallery 
 gave access to the bedrooms; and it was lighted by a 
 small, insufficient skylight far above. This main hall 
 ran across the house, from the north to the south 
 wing, and in its great fireplace an ox might have been 
 roasted whole. Directly opposite the entrance door, 
 the fireplace must, in the lifetime of old Vivian, have 
 given a cheerful welcome to each incoming guest, 
 with its blazing logs as promise of plenty. Without a 
 fire in its black depths it was but a terror the more to 
 the bedward going child, possessed of a vivid imagi- 
 nation and one flaring candle. I had rarely seen a 
 fire upon that hearth. The hall was always dark and 
 gloomy; so dark, indeed, that one could scarcely 
 
 14
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 decipher the verse carved on the oak panel above 
 the chimney-piece: 
 
 Seed, Xeafe, Stalfce, yioure 
 
 t>ave evil Savour. 
 pliflbt troutbe if aitb and tionour, 
 
 H?0avc5 \vclc JSrattbe /Ratio c. 
 "Mew leaf c, Stalhe, ffloure, 
 
 1>ave soot fair Savour. 
 
 As a child I had thought "soot" meant chimney- 
 black, and that the last line of the verse said the same, 
 ironically, as the second. Lydia taught me that soot 
 meant sweet in old English, and wished me to share 
 her belief that a meaning, a prophecy of great wis- 
 dom, lurked in the quaint doggerel. Poor Lydia! 
 The mass of picturesque nonsense connected with 
 Braithe was very dear to her. She and Lilian be- 
 lieved, and cherished, every superstition belonging to 
 the House. I sometimes fancied they regretted that 
 the family ghost had, perforce, been left behind in 
 England, where there was no longer a Braithe Manor, 
 the old home having burned down, and its lands hav- 
 ing passed into other hands. The English Braithes 
 had died out and this was well. A bad race, alas! 
 Often and often have I wished that no Braithe blood 
 tainted my veins. 
 
 Opening the tall mahogany door to the right of the 
 chimney-place, I entered the drawing-room, through 
 whose six French windows you looked across a pillared 
 portico, over the river, to the Highlands that barred 
 the southeastern horizon an exquisite view. The 
 long drawing-room had a chimney-place at either end. 
 Over one hung a portrait of my father; over the other 
 my mother, in a gown of pink satin, a pink rose in her 
 brown hair, and around her slender throat a diamond 
 chain, supporting the Gypsy's Opal. From its place 
 beneath this portrait I took down a miniature, in a 
 
 15
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 gold frame. It represented a very beautiful woman 
 who, like my mother, wore the opal on its diamond 
 chain about her neck. Her hair, soft and dark, as 
 black as velvet, rippled back from a broad, low brow; 
 her long gray eyes shone out beneath level, delicately 
 pencilled black eyebrows. 
 
 "Dear me, Theo, how lovely she is!" said Jane, sud- 
 denly, in her clear treble. She had slipped into the 
 room after me, and having climbed a chair, peeped at 
 the miniature over my shoulder. "See her little 
 straight nose, Theo, and her pretty mouth, with its 
 smiling corners! Let me kiss the dimple in her chin, 
 because it's her birthday, you know," and tilting my 
 head back she kissed, not the miniature, but me. 
 "Mother says you are one and the same, Theo," the 
 child went on, "the Countess born again. How splen- 
 did you must have looked when you opened the door 
 of your coach and gave the poor gypsy sanctuary!" 
 Janey was not particular as to the words she used, 
 provided they were strong "when you stood front- 
 ing the mob, who wanted to drag her from behind you, 
 and struck the ringleader across the face with your 
 fan! Blazing in satin and jewels, the tall houses of 
 smoky Edinburgh shutting in the narrow, dirty 
 street, but not shutting down your courage, Theo, as 
 you called to your postillions to 'Ride the dogs 
 down!'" 
 
 The child's voice rang out shrill in her excitement, 
 echoing through the lofty room. Then, eying me 
 with intense curiosity, she asked, "How did you feel 
 just after, Theo? Can you remember? All shaky 
 and queer? Was your fan broken, and did it have 
 jewelled sticks? The opal was on the gypsy's bosom 
 then, and protected her, mother says. After, when, 
 in her gratitude, she gave it to you then the Count- 
 ess was her luck lost, do you think? See, the jewel 
 gleams in the picture! As bright, in its odd way, as 
 
 16
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 the diamonds of its chain. Your mother had the 
 chain, too. But you have nothing, nothing, my poor 
 Theo save the Countess's beautiful face. That 
 father cannot take away!" She began to cry, overex- 
 cited by what she had heard. "They say the opal will, 
 avenge you," she sobbed, resisting my efforts to soothe 
 her; "that if you could hold it, even for one minute, 
 your luck would change ; that father's bad luck comes 
 from his shutting it away from you, and that 
 now " 
 
 "Hush, Janey, hush!" I cried. "Don't believe 
 these fairy tales." 
 
 "Fairy tales!" echoed the child, contemptuously; 
 "bogie stories I call 'em. Oh, here they come." And 
 Lydia entered with Lilian, the latter, as usual, stop- 
 ping in the doorway to right her slipper. 
 
 Lilian was untidy; she always declared she would 
 be neat if she were rich. Because of the little excite- 
 ment, a pleasant one to her, her cheeks were pink and 
 she looked very pretty if a trifle unkempt, with hair 
 coming down. 
 
 "O Theo," she exclaimed, seeing the miniature in 
 my hand, "what are you going to do?" 
 
 "Hide this," I said, bitterly, "lest it prove too 
 tempting for Braithe honor." 
 
 She exchanged a glance with Lydia ; one of hungry 
 curiosity. I rose to leave the room. Angry with Mr. 
 Braithe, I feared I might become irritable and dis- 
 agreeable did I remain longer with those who, though 
 innocent, were aggravating. 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked Lilian. 
 
 "To the Cell of Flagellation," I said, knowing she 
 would not care to follow me there; and hurried away. 
 
 IT
 
 ni 
 
 The windows of my room looked to the west, across 
 the broad lawn, between the Leopards of the gate, far 
 down the avenue of locusts. Braithe House stood on 
 the edge of a noble plateau, whose steep, well-wooded 
 banks rose grandly from the river both on the east 
 and south, and from the little valley on the west. 
 Northward, the land sloped upward to Braithe Farm. 
 
 I could not see the river from these windows; but I 
 had a charming view of the sunset, through the tall 
 rows of locust-trees. Next to my room that to the 
 uninitiated appeared to occupy the entire space above 
 the entrance hall was the secret chamber, called by 
 Jane the Cell of Flagellation, because I often retired 
 there to do penance for my many shortcomings and 
 to pray for guidance. It was, in reality, a narrow cell 
 of stone, dimly lighted by a mere slit in the outside 
 wall. In the English house a Vivian Braithe they 
 were all Vivians, Herberts, and Theodores had shut 
 up his eldest son, Theodore, in the secret chamber, and 
 there starved him to death. Theodore walked, as the 
 country people say; and, so runs the story, the wicked 
 father not only had no fear of his son's ghost, but used 
 politely to salute it whenever it crossed his path. 
 
 Because this poor starved Theodore had remained 
 in his own country, "in his own haunts," Mr. Braithe 
 punningly said, I was allowed to use the new secret 
 chamber openly. The hidden passages in the enor- 
 mously thick walls, and their communication with the 
 outer world, remained a secret between Mr. Braithe 
 
 18
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 and me as eldest child according to long-estab- 
 lished custom. 
 
 Upon my return from Europe I had been taken by 
 my father through all the By-Ways of Braithe; a 
 chart of the House had been placed in my possession, 
 and I had taken the old oath not to reveal, save under 
 certain conditions, my secret, to any but my heir. 
 These musty, time-worn tradtions were exceedingly 
 distasteful to me; seeming foolish, and out of place in 
 an American family. The past glory of Braithe 
 sprang from rapine and crime. A rank poisonous 
 flower, it deserved to wither; to die down out of 
 sight. 
 
 The secret cell was entered by a narrow door, cun- 
 ningly concealed behind a part of the wainscot, that 
 slid to one side on pressing a hidden spring. But as 
 yet my mind was in too angry a state of turmoil to 
 turn toward prayer. I dared not seek help and guid- 
 ance until I had made myself more worthy of receiv- 
 ing them, by first governing and beating down the 
 Braithe spirit that held possession. For my father had 
 been right in what he had said of my fatal fondness 
 for flirtation since that is the word commonly used 
 to describe an overmastering desire to please and it 
 was the knowledge of this baleful inheritance that was 
 now, in turn, rousing that other, my Braithe temper. 
 This last, however, I sometimes hoped might not have 
 come from the Braithes, since with it ran no tendency 
 to sneer. 
 
 I sat down by my open window, and leaning my el- 
 bows on the wide stone sill stared absently across the 
 broad sweep of lawn, out between the Leopards and the 
 long rows of locust-trees, to the cedar-crowned hill that 
 ended the vista. That stern judge, Conscience, called 
 me before its bar, and bade me review my conduct. 
 Even an hour ago I had yielded to my liking for what 
 Lydia, who had for me a blind affection, called diver- 
 
 19
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 sion. I had enjoyed the swiftness with which Mr. Gill 
 had responded to my unspoken appeal for help with 
 the hot-bed frame; although this the Braithe de- 
 mon, my hated familiar wickedly whispered I had 
 not tried to gain his aid. .No, I had merely left my 
 eyes to their own devices. Must you close them then ? 
 asked the demon. 
 
 How might I ever learn to conquer this failing, I 
 wondered. Since Lydia's first coming to Braithe, 
 when she had at once taught me that in order to 
 judge others fairly we must first judge ourselves; that 
 in order to be innocuous toward our fellows, we must 
 pull up all weeds liable to do damage ; ever since then 
 I had been struggling with this poisonous Braithe ivy. 
 But it clung tenaciously, in spite of my every effort 
 to tear it away. 
 
 As I stared, unseeing, from my window, I remem- 
 bered some who had suffered from my Braithe 
 ways. The kindly English clergyman, who had 
 grown to care far too much for me. Here the Braithe 
 demon again remonstrated: Why blame yourself? 
 You thought he was fond of you as a daughter, mere- 
 ly until too late. 
 
 I tried not to listen to this specious pleading, but 
 hastened to bring another skeleton from out of my 
 overfull cupboard. I thought of the handsome offi- 
 cer, the young German, who had come to the English 
 pension where we were wintering in a certain Ger- 
 man Bad to study English. He had shot himself. 
 God help me, I had never dared ask why. 
 
 I sprang to my feet and moved restlessly about the 
 room, pausing, at last, before two photographs hung 
 one above the other: a handsome man, and a boy, 
 more handsome still. Mr. Braithe my father and 
 my first cousin, Herbert Braithe Fayne. The two re- 
 sembled each other closely; and I had always thought 
 it was because of this resemblance, and not because 
 
 20
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Herbert was an orphan, that he had almost lived at 
 the Manor before we went abroad. 
 
 "Herbert ought to be my heir, not you, Theodora," 
 Mr. Braithe had often said. "He is a true Braithe in 
 
 looks as in nature ; while you " But he had no 
 
 words in which to express his scorn further. 
 
 I wondered, as I scrutinized closely the beautiful 
 face of the boy, if he had grown into as handsome a 
 man as he then promised. For he had been very beau- 
 tiful. When I felt kindly toward him, I had been 
 wont to call him Apollo Belvedere ; when irritated by 
 his Braithe tendencies, Alcibiades the Perverted. 
 
 Even in the photograph his blonde beauty shone 
 forth resplendent. The small head, with its thick, 
 fair curls, thrown back so carelessly, as though the 
 better to meet the friendly admiration that must sure- 
 ly fall to his share ; the delicate aquiline nose, the large 
 eyes blue as sapphires and, sometimes, as hard the 
 Grecian mouth with its sensuous curves, the easy 
 poise of the graceful figure, all were there. And, as 
 I looked, I remembered the strange nature that these 
 handsome features concealed. The apparent impossi- 
 bility, on the part of this beautiful youth, to distin- 
 guish between right and wrong; the insinuating grace 
 of manner with which he strove to blind the eyes of 
 others to his too frequent lapses from well-doing. In 
 the days when he had lived at the Manor I had not 
 learned, through Lydia's teaching, to make allowances 
 for others; and fierce and frequent had been the bat- 
 tles between Bertie Fayne and me. To me right and 
 wrong stood forth as clearly as black and white; but 
 sometimes it seemed as though Bertie could not dis- 
 tinguish between the two. 
 
 For some reason Mr. Braithe had not asked his 
 nephew to revisit the Manor since our return; and 
 although Lilian had met him, when on her visit to her 
 great-uncle, I could learn nothing from her. Had 
 
 21
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 he changed, both in character and appearance, or was 
 he still the same? James Wylde, Mrs. Gill's second 
 son, a dark-browed, sullen young gypsy, who had 
 played with Bertie and me when we were all three 
 but children, had altered sadly. It was he who had 
 met us on our arrival at Hilltown, after our long ab- 
 sence. He had grown into a tall, strong man, but the 
 odd gypsy look remained. I had sat beside him on 
 the seven-mile drive homeward to the Manor, and 
 his air of sullen reticence had vanished under the real 
 friendliness of my feeling for him. 
 
 "You're just the same, Miss Braithe, as you al- 
 ways was," he had said finally. "I guess you're the 
 sort as don't change." 
 
 "I shall never be 'Miss Braithe' to you, Jim," I had 
 answered, smiling, "never mind if Bertie were to 
 appear this moment and fight you again." 
 
 To my surprise he had colored deeply and pretend- 
 ed to become absorbed in his horses, while my mind 
 reverted to the fight I had recalled to his memory. It 
 had occurred on the morning of my thirteenth birth- 
 day, in the carriage-house of the dusty Braithe sta- 
 bles, already used only to store the overflow from the 
 Wyldes' barns stables built, like the house, after 
 those of the English Braithe; with courtyard, clock- 
 tower, and bell to warn retainers of danger a-foot. 
 The clock in the tower, however, was always kept in 
 repair and going; this being one of the unwritten laws 
 of the House. 
 
 Lilian, then eight years old, had come running to 
 tell me of the quarrel between the boys, her corn-silk 
 hair floating over her shoulders, her cheeks wearing 
 the color of the wild rose. 
 
 "Theo," she had cried, her sweet voice vibrant, her 
 blue eyes sparkling, "Bertie and Jim are having 3. 
 bloody fight in the coach-house ! Come quick, and see 
 'em kill each other." 
 
 22
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 On our way there, she had pantingly explained the 
 cause of the quarrel. Herbert, in a sneering humor, 
 had told Jim that he ought to call me Miss Braithe, in- 
 stead of Theo, pointing out the difference between us 
 in birth, and reminding him that I had entered my 
 teens and must henceforth be treated, by my infe- 
 riors, as Miss Braithe, of Braithe. 
 
 Jim had promptly resented what he considered in- 
 termeddling. Usually Herbert's willing slave dom- 
 inated by the other's personal charm, superior intelli- 
 gence, and skill in all field sports he rebelled only 
 when I was in question; invariably siding with me 
 against Bertie, and protecting me from him when my 
 cousin was in one of his teasing moods. 
 
 I remembered the strange scene that had followed 
 my arrival at the stables, where, in the centre of the 
 coach-house, the two combatants were struggling to- 
 gether; coats off, sleeves rolled up, and each belted 
 tightly with a moth-eaten saddle girth. Herbert was 
 fifteen, Jim a year younger, but they were well 
 matched ; since what Jim lacked in science he made up 
 for in single-heartedness of purpose. Herbert, only 
 half in earnest, wished to inflict punishment, but avoid 
 injury; Jim, his fierce temper thoroughly aroused, 
 cared nothing for the blows he might receive, so long 
 as those he gave went home. 
 
 Although one of Herbert's beautiful eyes was al- 
 ready half closed, he had seen me enter, and, prompt- 
 ed by a desire to torment, had called out to me to go 
 home, and leave the punishing of my servant to him. 
 This indulgence cost him dear. Jim, mad with fury, 
 redoubled his efforts; while Herbert, curious to see 
 how I felt toward them, forgot to be on his guard; 
 Jim's fist caught his chin and down he went, while the 
 victor sat down hard on his chest. 
 
 I was wild with excitement. 
 
 "Sit still, Jim," I cried. "He shall apologize. He 
 23
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 has fallen because he is a tyrant; you have conquered 
 because you were fighting for liberty. He is Gesler; 
 you are William Tell." 
 
 "William couldn't have done it, Dolly," Herbert 
 had said, his good-nature suddenly restored, "if Ges- 
 ler hadn't shown him how." He smiled up at Jim in 
 his sunny, charming way, his disarming way. "Say, 
 old chap, you're beastly heavy, do you know it? Just 
 get up, will you? That last whack was scientific. I'm 
 proud of you, Jim." 
 
 Jim's scowl vanished; he looked sheepish, almost 
 ashamed. 
 
 "Don't move, Jim," I commanded, stamping my 
 foot. "He owes you an apology; he shall make one." 
 
 "Mercy, what a termagant!" said Herbert, teasing- 
 ly. "I'm sorry I fought for you; you're not worth it, 
 Dolly" his name for me, a contraction of Dora. 
 
 Jim's scowl returned. 
 
 "You take that back," he said, threateningly. 
 "You sha'n't sass her while I'm 'round. Now then, 
 Bert Fayne, say you're sorry." 
 
 "I'm sorry!" bleated Herbert, with assumed meek- 
 ness. "Tell your champion to let me get up, Helen of 
 Troy." He smiled at me as if the whole affair amused 
 him; as if we were children; he a man, diverted by 
 our folly. But I, who knew him well, divined that he 
 would, later, in some underhand way, pay Jim out. 
 As for Lilian, she wept bitterly, that the two she de- 
 tested had not killed one another. 
 
 Poor Jim! Shortly after our return from Europe 
 he had fought fiercely with his young step-father, Mr. 
 Gill, and had left home, vowing never to return. Ru- 
 mors of his having become a black sheep reached me 
 from time to time. I was unhappy when I thought of 
 my kind playmate. 
 
 As I turned away from the photograph of Herbert, 
 I thought again of the wrong Mr. Braithe had done 
 
 24
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 me. My opal was gone forever. I thought of my 
 mother, dead, with the opal at her throat. The gem 
 had been, because of this, and because of that 'long 
 line of mothers and daughters good women, if his- 
 tory spoke truth who had in turn worn it, a sacred 
 jewel to me. A wave of sorrow swept over me as I 
 realized that I was never to see it again. I pressed the 
 secret spring of the panel leading into my private ora- 
 tory, and there knelt down in prayer. 
 
 25
 
 IV 
 
 The chill of the Cell struck into the very marrow 
 of my bones, and my knees ached from contact with 
 the cold stone floor. This bodily discomfort was 
 wholesome, freezing out my hot temper. What was 
 the loss of a gem after all? If Lydia and Janey kept 
 tolerably well, and Mr. Braithe ceased to torment 
 them for a few weeks at least, what had I to complain 
 of? Ashamed of my selfishness I remained a half 
 hour longer in the same position as punishment; then, 
 hearing a knock at the door of my room, I rose stiffly 
 and returned there. My visitor was Lilian. 
 
 "Finished your genuflections?" she inquired, com- 
 ing in. "Then swear you'll never tell." 
 
 She held toward me a small New Testament, bound . 
 in red morocco. A greasy, time-worn little volume, 
 showing signs of a too near neighborhood with Lilian's 
 candle. It had belonged to her mother, and Lilian 
 regarded it as fetich; seldom reading its pages, but 
 keeping it always on her dressing-table, as a safeguard 
 against ghosts. 
 
 Often I was called upon to swear by it never to re- 
 veal some petty secret. This had become a confirmed 
 habit on her part, and one I found I could not, with- 
 out great unkindness, break. It had commenced 
 when she was twelve and I seventeen, the formula 
 varying according to my humor of the moment, al- 
 though what Lilian preferred was this: ^ 
 
 "I, Theodora de Vere Braithe, do hereby solemnly 
 swear never to reveal this secret, now confided to my 
 keeping by my step-sister, Lilian de Vere Braithe." 
 
 26
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Having determined during my recent stay in the 
 cell to behave well toward all my family, I refrained 
 from answering her petulantly, and took the oath as 
 best pleased her, though secretly wishing she would 
 go away. 
 
 "You have sworn, Theo." 
 
 "Yes, Lilian." 
 
 "You are under oath." 
 
 "Yes, yes." 
 
 "I could not speak fully to Lydia, Theo, for she is 
 really no relation, but I know in her heart of hearts 
 she feels as I do; for we both know he will never re- 
 turn alive." 
 
 "Who?" I demanded, my curiosity slightly aroused 
 by Lilian's pleased excitement, for her cheeks were 
 pink, her eyes shining. 
 
 "Who?" Don't be such an idiot, Theo. Father, 
 of course, who else ? He has the opal in his 
 breast pocket It will be his death. And, Theo," 
 lowering her sweet voice to a mere whisper, "I am 
 glad!" 
 
 "Lilian!" 
 
 "There, you needn't look so shocked, Theo. I am 
 glad, and so's Lydia, though it's really indecent and 
 inhuman in her to be. A common farmer's daughter 
 from Vermont! That's all she was, you know per- 
 fectly well. And father made her a Braithe. Oh, I 
 forgot your preference for common people! You 
 needn't fire up I know all you'll say beforehand. 
 I'm glad I'm an aristocrat, for my part; and can un- 
 derstand the feelings the finer feelings of the well 
 born. Noblesse oblige! I only hope she'll hang on 
 for a while after father, for you know her annuity 
 dies with her, and it's really all we have to live on. 
 We^l make her take us abroad when he's dead, and 
 Do you know it's a mercy he carried off the opal, 
 though we were so mad at first, for if anything can fin- 
 
 27
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ish him, that will. Leave your room? Oh, come off! 
 You needn't pretend you care for him, after the way 
 he's treated you; that's a little too thin." She laughed 
 musically as she went away. 
 
 We had beefsteak for dinner, because it was my 
 birthday. A great treat for the ladies of Braithe. 
 Lilian had offered to take my place as cook her 
 birthday gift but she forgot this until reminded by 
 Janey; when, provoked by my reception of her un- 
 pleasant prophecy, and disliking the work, she burned 
 the outside of the steak, and left the inside raw. 
 Janey, disappointed that the feast should prove a fail- 
 ure, reproached Lilian bitterly, and the banquet ended 
 in tears. 
 
 "Do not marry for love only, Theo," said Lydia, 
 eying the weeping combatants with her cold little 
 smile. "I did; your mother did; Lilian's mother did. 
 Behold the result ! Three young female paupers, sod- 
 den with grief over the hideous catastrophe of an ill- 
 looked ewe lamb." 
 
 " 'Twasn't lamb !" wailed Lilian. "A nasty, gory 
 steak. But it's just like you, you never get things 
 straight." 
 
 Lydia's smile deepened. 
 
 "Poor Lilian!" she said. "Poor lame dog, without 
 the only crutch that helps such over the stiles of Pov- 
 erty! 
 
 "You mean a sense of humor," said Jane, her tears 
 dried by her warm pride in her own quickness of per- 
 ception. "You have it only occasionally, Lilian, and 
 you know it." And a second storm was only averted 
 by Lilian's desire to escape dish-washing, which took 
 her hastily from the room. 
 
 "Where are you going, Theo?" Lydia asked as, an 
 hour later, Janey climbed into her cart before the 
 front steps. "Ah ! I can guess ; to the chapel. Wind 
 a wreath of bright leaves for your mother, Theo, and 
 
 28
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 speak gayly as you lay them on the grass above her 
 heart. You may cheat her into the belief that you are 
 happy." 
 
 "I am not unhappy, Lydia." 
 
 "No, not unhappy exactly, I suppose. A sad resig- 
 nation is not to be called unhappiness. How well I 
 have taught you to recognize the limitations of others, 
 Theo! Too well, I fear. Now, understanding mine, 
 you carefully avoid telling me that your mother is a 
 saint in Heaven ; not a poor handful of dust, in a nar- 
 row coffin. Most people with your faith would not let 
 this occasion pass, but would hasten to proclaim it. 
 Be thankful for your faith, Theo. I wish I might 
 think as you do. I wish I might feel that your moth- 
 er, happy near God's throne, looks calmly down upon 
 the trials of her only child, believing that whom the 
 Lord loveth He chasteneth." 
 
 "Poor little Lydia!" I said, stooping to kiss her pale 
 cheek. "Go take a nice nap; you are overtired. If 
 only I had broiled that steak! A bit of good be^ef 
 would have done you good. I can't forgive myself for 
 leaving it to Lilian." 
 
 "Lilian is a true Braithe," said Lydia, severely, "a 
 mass of selfishness. If it were not for her, I should 
 not mind dying. Something tells me she will do you 
 harm don't look incredulous, Theo, my premoni- 
 tions never fail. I dreamed of your mother last night. 
 She stepped down from the gilded frame of her por- 
 trait and warned me. I swore to her then, as I swear 
 to you now, to guard you in death, as in life, from all 
 evil. And I so helpless ! We feel strong in dreams 
 I wonder why? But after death one is really strong. 
 I don't believe in God, or in Heaven. If He exists, 
 why does cruelty exist? I do believe in the power 
 to rise from one's grave to help those one loves. If 
 anyone, if Lilian, tries to harm you, they shall have 
 me to deal with." 
 
 29
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "O mother, do hush!" cried poor Janey. "You 
 give me the crawling creeps." 
 
 I whistled to the Chevalier and hurried away with 
 the child, conscience-stricken. When Lydia began to 
 talk in this odd way she held me, she was so much in 
 earnest. A truly good woman, her lack of faith but 
 a strange warp in her mind. A pitiful, saddening 
 flaw, that was understood and allowed for, I am sure, 
 by One who understands and makes just allowance for 
 us all. 
 
 Our road lay southward, through the neglected 
 flower garden whose old sun-dial was green with 
 moss on, under the tall trees of the broad belt of 
 woodland beyond; till, a quarter of a mile from the 
 house, we came upon the chapel, amid its encircling 
 tombs. It stood near the edge of the plateau, that here 
 narrowed to a point; and commanded a magnificent 
 view of the river, sweeping southward to the rampart 
 of mountains that apparently barred its further 
 course. 
 
 The chapel, like the house, was built of the stone of 
 the locality. Each year it grew more ruinous. Rain 
 leaked in through the roof; and many of the small 
 panes of stained glass in the tall narrow windows were 
 broken, or gone altogether. The bits of thick paper 
 I had carefully glued in their places destroyed the 
 beauty of the pictured saints; here a face was oblit- 
 erated, there a hand; while the richly-colored gar- 
 ments of the Holy Ones looked as though they had 
 been patched. 
 
 Janey and I did not go into the chapel, but sat 
 down on Old Vivian's tombstone a slab of granite 
 upheld by the family Leopards and enjoyed the view 
 down the river. 
 
 "E. R.," said Jane, meditatively, staring at a mod- 
 est brownstone cross to our left. "Etienne Rappellel 
 Three of 'em" there were three crosses "I wonder 
 
 30
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 at their taste, Theo. Do you suppose the present E. R. 
 will be buried here, too?" 
 
 "I don't know, Jane." 
 
 "To be sure," the child went on, "although he is so 
 awfully rich, he is as common as dirt." 
 
 "Janey!" I remonstrated, "don't say such things. 
 You don't know Mr. Rappelle. If he is at all like his 
 ancestors, he is not a common man ; but because of his 
 honesty, his loyalty, and unselfishness, a very uncom- 
 mon one." 
 
 "Why, Theo, you don't know him any more than 
 the rest of us! How queer to speak of his ancestors! 
 Somehow I never think of servants having ancestors ; 
 or being ancestors. Now you say so, I suppose their 
 grubby old grandfathers are ancestors. I've got no 
 business to talk like this," said the child, blushing 
 painfully, "for I dare say mother's ancestors were as 
 plain as plain. Lilian's forever hinting at it." 
 
 "Nice, hard-working, clean-souled Vermont farm- 
 ers," I said, sternly. "Be thankful you come of 
 such good stock, Jane. Try not to think of peo- 
 ple's pedigrees. Judge them by what they are them- 
 selves." 
 
 "Dear me, Theo, what a funny sermon ! You know 
 I don't care a cent about old family, only only 
 well, I do think some things about us are interesting; 
 the Portent, for instance." 
 
 "O Janey!" I cried, "surely your mother and Lil- 
 ian did not speak of it to you?" 
 
 "You bet they did, Theo, and it most scared me 
 stiff! I hope I mayn't hear it ever. The first faint 
 sound of wheels, stealing through the old lodge gates 
 at midnight the sound grows louder down into the 
 valley, and up again hark! the horses are galloping; 
 the wheels of the Coach reverberate through the quiet 
 night ! A mad rush between the Cats, and up to the 
 great door then, silence!" 
 
 31
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "Wheels don't reverberate, Goosie!" I said, hastily. 
 "I wish you wouldn't listen to these foolish tales." 
 
 The child paid no heed. Looking down the river 
 with bright, excited eyes she thought only of the 
 Death Coach the Portent. 
 
 "Three days later a Braithe dies. You look from 
 your window no carriage is there ! You say to your- 
 self, which one has it come for? In three days you 
 know." 
 
 "Do not think of it, do not believe in it, Janey, my 
 darling," I entreated. "It is nothing but an idle su- 
 perstition." 
 
 "And the Gypsy's Opal, Theo?" 
 
 "Is nothing but a beautiful jewel, Jane. It has no 
 power to bring good, or evil, fortune. Come into the 
 chapel, little sister, and let us pray for each other, and 
 for all whom we love." 
 
 "For the people we hate, too, Theo?" 
 
 "Let us try not to hate anybody," I said, quickly, 
 painfully conscious of my own fierce dislikes. 
 
 The little church smelled of mould, and decay, in 
 spite of my efforts to keep it well aired and dry. 
 
 "It's grewsome," complained Janey. "And I'm 
 not a religious child. You're so good, Theo, there's 
 no use in my praying for you; if the Lord God won't 
 look out for you for your own sake, He most certainly 
 won't for mine. Mother's faith is gone, and she'll 
 have to repent to be saved, the Bible says; so 
 where's the use of my praying for her? As for 
 praying for people whom I hope'll have an aw- 
 ful time the Lord would see through me in a 
 minute. I'm going home; and I think I'm an un- 
 fortunate child. If you were like mother, I might 
 believe in all the creepy, crawly, Braithe stories and 
 enjoy 'em dreadfully; or if mother were like you, I 
 might be an out and out religiousite, and love to pray. 
 Now I'm half one way and half t'other a kind of 
 
 32
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 mongrel. Where's the Chevalier? I wish I were a 
 dog. No, I don't, a deformed dog would be horrid. 
 Tell me something pleasant, Theo, quick! My head 
 is full of wicked thoughts, that hurt my heart." 
 
 I caught her in my arms and hurried out into the 
 sunshine. If her thoughts hurt her heart, they cut 
 mine to the quick. 
 
 "Choose your own story, missy," I cried, gayly, 
 seating her on my lap, "and I'll tell it you. Robber, 
 bogie, fairy, or true story fearsome or funny ? Fan- 
 cy how full my head is of nonsense!" and I laughed. 
 
 "Your pretty ripple laugh," said the child, patting 
 my cheek fondly. Then her mood changed, and a 
 mischievous spirit took possession. "I'll hear the sto- 
 ries of the pension swains, from your own self. Tell 
 me of the old English clergyman whom you thought 
 loved you as a daughter, till one day he up and popped 
 the question. Mother says he forgot his cloth such 
 an odd expression and cussed and swore like a 
 trooper when you told him what you'd thought. Says 
 'twas a relief to hear him go it, he was such a sancti- 
 monious old prig. Mother says men are all alike that 
 way; saints have sinners' insides, often, and some- 
 times sinners' saints she means have some good in 
 'em, you know. And I want to hear about the hand- 
 some German officer, who put his wedding ring in his 
 pocket so's you wouldn't know he was married, and 
 then tried to make you care for him bragged he'd 
 do it in a week." She paused, then added, with a 
 wicked little laugh, "Mother says before two weeks 
 were over, he was head over ears in love himself; 
 says he wanted to divorce his wife, and marry you. 
 Forgive me, Theo; I'm nasty to-day; and your 
 birthday, too ! I feel just as I do in summer, when a 
 thunder-storm is coming. Yet it's October and the 
 sky as blue as blue. Let's go home." 
 
 Something had affected us all, the loss of the opal, 
 33
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I fancy, and neither Lydia nor I slept well that night. 
 Just before twelve she came into my room, and find- 
 ing me awake, sat down on my bed to talk herself into 
 a calmer frame of mind. Presently the old clock at 
 the stables struck the hour. 
 
 "Midnight," said Lydia. "What a death-knell 
 voice the old clock has! Hush! What was that?" 
 
 "Can it be thunder?" I said. "Why no it's the 
 sound of wheels!" 
 
 Lydia sank back, her hand on her heart, her face 
 ghastly. Alarmed, I sprang from the bed, and would 
 have run for a cordial, but she stopped me. 
 
 "Listen!" she gasped, holding up a shaking hand to 
 insure silence. 
 
 There was no longer a doubt; someone was driving 
 along the road once our avenue at a furious rate. 
 
 "Illness at the Gills' 1" I exclaimed. "Oh, I am so 
 sorry!" and I listened intently, expecting to hear the 
 carriage, now dashing across the little bridge, turn 
 toward the farm. But it came straight on. 
 
 At that moment Lilian ran in. 
 
 "Theo, Theo!" she cried, "what shall we do!" 
 
 She fell on her knees before me, and buried her 
 white face in the folds of my night-dress. I tried to 
 free myself and get to the window, but she clung to 
 me so desperately I could not move. 
 
 "Let me go, Lilian," I commanded, "those horses 
 are on the full gallop! There, they've passed the 
 Leopards! Let me go this instant; someone must be 
 in desperate need." 
 
 The carriage stopped before the house, with clatter 
 and rush. Breaking away from Lilian, I ran to my 
 window, and unbolting the old-fashioned shutters, 
 flung them wide. 
 
 There was nothing to be seen. 
 
 It was a glorious night, and, because of the moon 
 riding proudly in the heavens, seemed like day. Be- 
 
 34
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 fore the house stretched the broad lawn with its giant 
 elm and tulip trees ; beyond, sat the Leopards on their 
 stone pillars, marking the commencement of the ave- 
 nue of locusts further still, the woodland of the 
 western hill. Below my window the flight of steps, 
 leading sharply down to the sweep of road in front of 
 the entrance door. I looked and looked again. 
 
 "We were mistaken," I said, closing the window 
 and shivering slightly, for the night was chill. "It 
 must have been but some odd echo; there is no carriage 
 here." Then I hastened to Lydia, who sat upon the 
 floor, Lilian's head upon her lap. 
 
 "She has fainted, Theo, bring water," she whis- 
 pered, with colorless lips, and added, as we bathed 
 Lilian's face and throat, "The opal has done its work 
 swiftly! In three days you will be Head of the 
 House." 
 
 35
 
 By one of those strange coincidences which do 
 much to strengthen the belief in foolish superstitions, 
 my father lost his life three days later. He was run 
 over by a heavy dray, while trying to drag a child 
 from beneath its wheels, and had died bravely the 
 crowd applauding. 
 
 The news was brought us by our one friend in 
 Hilltown, Dr. Strong. I heard the wheels of his 
 buggy down the avenue, and went joyfully to meet 
 him, but his grave face cut my gay greeting short. 
 
 "What has happened?" I asked. 
 
 "Theo, my dear child," he said, kindly, as we 
 mounted the steps together, "you must be brave, and 
 help me " 
 
 He got no further, for Lydia appeared on the 
 threshold, her small face pinched and white. As we 
 paused she came forward, holding out a cold little 
 hand. 
 
 "Mr. Braithe is dead?" she said, with a wintry 
 smile. "No, I have had no telegram. Word that I 
 might expect this was sent three nights ago." 
 
 Alas ! it was in vain that I tried to reason away this 
 mischievous belief; and because of the odd effect of 
 an echo, the echo of wheels brought so I have al- 
 ways fancied by some rare state of the atmosphere, 
 my dear little step-mother's over-excited nerves did 
 damage to her already feeble health. 
 
 All winters were cold at Braithe, we had so few 
 fires; but that winter seemed especially cold, because 
 
 36
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Lydia was in great need of warmth, and our supply of 
 fuel scantier even than that of the year before. I had 
 given over my authority as Head of the Family to 
 Lydia, at her request. It was for her to order the fell- 
 ing of trees, and to attend to all the arrangements, al- 
 though she was not fit for it. Each day she grew more 
 frail, yet she insisted upon keeping everything in her 
 own hands until the end. Mr. Beecham, my fath- 
 er's lawyer, had gone over all business attendant upon 
 Mr. Braithe's death with her; but we were not to hear 
 the will read until she, too, had left us. There was 
 something very dreadful in her way of putting off 
 everything until then. Later I learned the reason for 
 this. 
 
 One heavy envelope, addressed to me in Mr. 
 Braithe's graceful handwriting, Mr. Beecham gave 
 me privately; explaining that my father had request- 
 ed him to so deliver it in case of his, Mr. Braithe's, 
 death. I opened it with a heavy heart. It contained 
 a letter to me, and two sealed envelopes. On one of 
 these was written: 
 
 Concerning Lilian de Vere Braithe. 
 
 On the other: 
 
 Etienne Rappelle, Esq. 
 
 The letter told me that in case Lilian rebelled against 
 my authority, or in any way misdemeaned herself, I 
 was to break the seal of the first envelope and read to 
 her its contents. In case Lydia should survive him, I 
 was, immediately upon her death, to forward the re- 
 maining enclosure to Etienne Rappelle, Esq. With 
 it I was desired to send a polite note, explaining that 
 I took pleasure in thus obeying the last commands of 
 my dear father. 
 
 "A loving, devoted wife rarely survives her hus- 
 37
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 band long," wrote Mr. Braithe, "and my Lydia, I feel 
 sure, if she does not precede, will soon follow me. 
 Accustomed to her tender care, even Heaven will 
 seem comfortless to me. Should I die first, / will 
 come for my dear ministrant soon" 
 
 Unfortunately Lydia came into my room as I fin- 
 ished reading this letter. It lay upon my lap, and she 
 picked it up saying that she supposed she might read 
 it. What Mr. Braithe had written about her had 
 made little impression upon me; I was absorbed in 
 wondering if he had asked charity for us at the hands 
 of Etienne Rappelle, when a sudden exclamation from 
 her recalled my wandering thoughts. The letter had 
 fallen from her fingers, her face was ghastly. 
 
 "Ah!" she whispered, "it is as I feared. Even 
 death cannot release me. He will come for me soon ! 
 Theo, I can't stand the thought. To wander through 
 space with him forever and ever and ever!" 
 
 Bitterly regretting my f orgetf ulness of her peculiar 
 beliefs I went to her, and putting my arms around her, 
 said gently: 
 
 "Don't be afraid, Lydia; it was always his way to 
 torment you, even in his letters. Try not to think 
 about him any more. He need not come for you," I 
 added, smiling, "for I shouldn't let you go." 
 
 "Theo!" she cried, catching my hands in both hers 
 and pressing them hard, a faint pink stealing into her 
 pale cheeks, "Theo! do you really mean it? Would 
 you stand by me? But of course you would; when 
 have you ever deserted a friend or turned away from a 
 soul in trouble? Pray for me, Theo, pray! I ask no 
 Heaven is there such a place? but I have lived in 
 Hell, a hell of my own making, so the more awful. 
 Bury me well away from the Braithes, Theo, and re- 
 member your promise to put me in no coffin. Pray 
 that I may rest quiet in my grave. If only I might 
 hope to feel your feet, and Janey's, on the grass above 
 
 38
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 my heart, pressing it down deep into the bosom of 
 stolid Mother Earth but no, that is not for me." 
 She sank into a chair, exhausted by her terror. 
 "Swear you will pray for me night and morning, 
 Theo." ' 
 
 "I always do, dear Lydia." 
 
 "I am hedging," she said, with one of her odd 
 smiles. "I don't believe in what we are taught as 
 children, God and the Angels and that sort of thing, 
 but in case it should prove true after all, I have you 
 on my side to plead for me. I am meaner than a Bib- 
 lical Jew an Old Testament Jew! Meaner than Jo- 
 seph, that tell-tale, who, when he was seventeen years 
 old, ran to his father with evil reports of his brothers; 
 and, later, threw the blame of his own misbehavior on 
 Potiphar's poor wife." 
 
 Greatly distressed, I begged her not to talk, to lie 
 down and rest ; but she paid no heed. 
 
 "If there be a God," she went on more calmly, "He 
 will make allowances as you do. Yes, as you are 
 making them for me now, and for everybody; for 
 small-souled, envious Lilian, for my poor, pert Janey, 
 for Mrs. Gill and her silly Abel for everyone save 
 yourself." 
 
 "Speaking of Mrs. Gill," I said, anxious to change 
 the current of her thoughts, "reminds me that she is 
 willing to go shares on the wood, as she did last win- 
 ter. She told me that if you would decide on the 
 trees to be felled, she would set the men to work at 
 once." 
 
 For a moment Lydia did not answer, and I saw that 
 the subject I had chosen was an unhappy one. At 
 last she said, very slowly, as though forcing herself to 
 speak. "There will be no more cutting into the timber, 
 Theo." 
 
 I stared at her in bewilderment. What, then, 
 should we do for fuel? 
 
 39
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Mr. Beecham and I have talked matters over," she 
 said, drearily. "I am trying to do my best for you, 
 Theo. We must go in debt for coal, I fear." 
 
 I felt unwilling to ask questions. I had given up 
 my right to do so; yet one I asked in spite of my- 
 self. 
 
 "Shall you try to rent or sell Braithe, Lydia?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 The answer was so short I knew no explanation 
 would follow, and I would not worry her by showing 
 my discomfort over her strange management. Lilian, 
 who thought reticence on any subject in the family cir- 
 cle arrant nonsense, did not hesitate to voice her opin- 
 ion on the way Braithe was run. She found constant 
 fault, telling what had been done wrong and what 
 should, and should not, be done. If we had no money 
 why not borrow of Etienne Rappelle? she demanded. 
 He really owed his life to the Braithes, she said, for, 
 if the first Etienne had not been rescued by Old Viv- 
 ian, he would never have been born. 
 
 Lydia answered that if he felt as she did about life 
 that terrible possession he must owe the Braithes 
 a hearty grudge instead of money. So they wrangled 
 long and bitterly. 
 
 "My dear father," said Lilian, "felt as I do, I am 
 sure. When Rappelle came to his funeral, I made up 
 my mind it was to offer us everything we needed ; and 
 after all it was only that he might brag of his connec- 
 tion with our family. Vulgar upstart!" 
 
 "He had very good manners," said Janey, judicial- 
 ly, "and he is good-looking, aristocratic-looking 
 aquiline noses are aristocratic," rubbing the bridge of 
 her own delicate little nose reflectively, "but you can't 
 go by looks. Anyone to see you now, Lilian, so piggy- 
 careless, would think you a scullery wench." 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Lilian, her sweet voice shrill 
 with anger, "I hope you see now, Lydia, what comes 
 
 40
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 of letting a brat read Walter Scott's musty old books. 
 Such vile language ! No wonder she sees a gentleman 
 in that dark-faced, thin-lipped product of soap and 
 brown sugar! You can read 'grocer' written all over 
 him. Stingy, miserly mushroom!" 
 
 "You're mad 'cause he didn't look at you ogling 
 him over your Prayer-book! It was at Theo he 
 looked his eyes are as bright and dark and she so 
 busy minding her prayers she never saw him!" 
 
 I got up and went away to my own room. I was 
 tired of the constant squabbling which I could not 
 stop; of Lilian's grumbles over Mr. Rappelle's very 
 natural behavior; of hearing her praises of Mr. 
 Braithe. Since his death she had canonized him. I 
 took from my desk the envelope whose contents con- 
 cerned her only. I should never break its seal and 
 read them. A record probably of girlish peccadilloes, 
 treasured up against her by Mr. Braithe. Should I 
 burn the letter or give it to her to burn? As I stood 
 idly turning it in my hands Lilian swept into the 
 room without the ceremony of knocking. 
 
 "I can't stand those two another minute," she cried, 
 musically, "when I think how they treated dear fath- 
 er! That nasty common little Lydia is evidently 
 thankful he is dead ! After all he did for her, too ! It 
 is shameful. Never once have I heard her reproach 
 herself for being such a drag upon him, as she certainly 
 was. Sickly, low-born little thing!" 
 
 "Hush, Lilian," I said, sternly. "You forget how 
 she toiled for him, you forget that she now supports 
 his children." 
 
 "Pooh! If she weren't here Rappelle would do 
 something for us. I daresay he did offer and she haa 
 had the impudence to refuse for us what's that let- 
 ter? Father's handwriting even that shows the aris- 
 tocrat 'Concerning Lilian de Vere Braithe.' Why, 
 Theo! how dare you keep my letter from me? Give 
 
 41
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 it to me right away," stamping her foot and trying to 
 snatch it from me. "I always knew I was his favor- 
 ite, the only true Braithe of the family. Give it to 
 me!" 
 
 I tried to explain that it was not for her. Beside 
 herself with anger, she would not listen, and fought 
 for its possession so violently that I gave it up. She 
 broke the seal and devoured its contents, then burst 
 into passionate tears. "Mean, hateful, wicked!" tear- 
 ing the letter as she spoke. "Devilish old sneak! 
 I'm glad he's dead! I hope he's burning, yes, burn- 
 ing in torments, I do, I do, I do !" 
 
 "Lilian!" I cried, aghast, "how can you talk so?" 
 
 "You're just as bad," turning fiercely upon me; 
 "setting yourself to pry into my private affairs. Al- 
 ways asking about my visit to uncle, and I such an 
 idiot I never guessed why! Ah!" stopping short and 
 staring fixedly at me, "you read it first, then sealed it 
 up again." 
 
 "Enough!" I was now as angry as she. "Leave 
 my room at once, please." 
 
 She did so, but was back again in an instant, bring- 
 ing the little New Testament. 
 
 "Swear you didn't, then, Theodora de Vere 
 Braithe. Swear!" 
 
 At first I would not, but at last, my anger con- 
 quered by the look of real misery in her eyes, I yield- 
 ed, and she went away satisfied. But she no longer 
 spoke of Mr. Braithe with affectionate regret. 
 
 Her allusion to her visit set me wondering for the 
 hundredth time over her reticence in regard to it. I 
 had before imagined that it was because of her failure 
 to inherit the wealth she had hoped for, that she so 
 seldom spoke of the months spent in the home of her 
 great-uncle; her mother's uncle, so no kin of the 
 Braithes. Yet, strangely enough, it was our Braithe 
 cousin, Herbert Braithe Fayne, the only child of my 
 
 42
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 father's only sister who had been, apparently, her sole 
 rival for the old man's favor. 
 
 "Had I wife and children of my own," the great- 
 uncle had said in the presence of clergyman and law- 
 yer, "every cent should go to them. Now, one mo- 
 ment I'm all for the girl the next, I remember that 
 the boy is the orphaned grandson of my closest friend. 
 I suppose I must choose between the two !" 
 
 After his death it was found that he had a wife and 
 children tucked away in a distant corner of the county, 
 so Lilian and Herbert got nothing. 
 
 Although as a child Lilian had detested Herbert, 
 and he had never noticed her save when inclined to 
 tease, she corresponded with him after this visit; yet 
 she seemed to like him no better than before, and save 
 for saying that he was "as handsome and as nasty as 
 ever," never would talk about him. Her outburst 
 over Mr. Braithe's communication aroused my curiosi- 
 ty again, but I put it away resolutely. Lilian's affairs 
 were her own. 
 
 43
 
 VI 
 
 Lydia was never quite the same after reading Mr. 
 Braithe's letter, seeming to live in constant dread of 
 his summons, and in February she became seriously 
 ill. Kind Dr. Strong drove the seven miles from Hill- 
 town almost daily, in spite of the bad condition of the 
 roads. His wife loaded the buggy with dainties, made 
 to tempt Lydia's failing appetite, but little Jane ate 
 most of them. Poor child, she needed them almost 
 as much as her mother! 
 
 Fuel at this time became very scanty. I had no 
 money with which to buy coal, and dared not order 
 any trees cut down. In Lydia's weak condition lay a 
 bar to all discussion of ways and means, yet she must 
 have a fire in her room. What to do I did not know, 
 and one morning when an hour spent in prayer in the 
 icy Cell of Flagellation had brought no help, I went to 
 the chapel in hope of finding aid there. An answer was 
 sent to my prayers, for, my eyes chancing to fall upon 
 a very large moth-hole in the covering of one of the 
 pew cushions, I saw, not for the first time, that they 
 were stuffed with straw. In renovating the chapel at 
 the time of his marriage to my mother, Mr. Braithe 
 had thought any kind of stuffing would do seeing 
 stuffing did not show. Horse-hair being expensive, 
 straw was used. 
 
 Remembering to have read that Western farmers 
 twisted hay into tight ropes and burned it, I saw my 
 way to making Lydia comfortable. Picking up a 
 long cushion, whose covering was sadly moth-eaten, I 
 threw it across my shoulder and bore it to the stables. 
 
 44
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 There I stripped off the cover, and, at imminent risk 
 to my fingers and toes, for I am not good at man's 
 work, hacked the closely-packed straw into burnable 
 lengths and placed several chunks in a basket. Then 
 I went to the library for a book with which to start the 
 fire, for we took no newspaper, and shavings we had 
 not. 
 
 The library was icy cold, making Lydia's room, di- 
 rectly over it, the harder to warm. It occupied the 
 lower part of the north wing of the house, and having 
 one huge window to the east, another to the west, it 
 commanded a view of both avenue and river. Over 
 the great chimney-piece hung a portrait of the builder 
 of Braithe, Old Vivian, taken as himself. There were 
 many other portraits of him in the house, in which he 
 had sat for his ancestors, having been unable to carry 
 off their pictures from the English Braithe Manor. 
 The story ran that he had declared himself to be a 
 very perfect type of the race, and well fitted to person- 
 ate the best of them. Thus was Braithe House pro- 
 vided with the needed family portraits. 
 
 Hastily selecting a book I thought worthless, I took 
 a short cut upstairs by way of what had been my fath- 
 er's private staircase, whistling cheerily as I went that 
 Lydia's nerves might not be startled. The library had 
 always been the peculiar property of the masters of 
 Braithe. Back of its great chimney, in the northern 
 end, there was hidden a small room, with a spiral stair- 
 case in one corner that led to a dressing-room above. 
 This dressing-room opened into Lydia's bedchamber. 
 In winter my father had slept in the small room, as it 
 could be made very hot with its little stove, in spite of 
 the northern exposure. A bookcase swung to one side, 
 on touching a secret spring, and gave entrance to it. 
 Braithe was unpleasantly full of reminders of those 
 who had stood in need of hiding-places. 
 
 My straw burned bravely; Lydia fancied it must 
 45
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 be like peat. She looked very little in the big, old- 
 fashioned, four-post bedstead. Everything in the 
 great room was large and heavy. Somehow the pon- 
 derous furniture, calculated, apparently, to last for- 
 ever, made Lydia seem the more fragile. 
 
 "Strange girl!" she said, her odd smile flickering 
 about her lips, "robbing the church to keep me warm. 
 Like the rest of us you are inconsistent." 
 
 "I hope I mayn't burn a family of mice," I said, 
 anxiously. "Do they hibernate, Lydia?" 
 
 "There it is again," said Lydia, "catching them in 
 traps, jumping up on chairs and screaming when they 
 run across the floor, yet now fearing to kill by fire." 
 
 There was silence for a moment. I was in con- 
 stant dread of hearing despairing squeaks from the 
 fire. Lydia watched me. 
 
 "Would you burn the Bible, Theo, if no other fuel 
 were to be had?" 
 
 "Yes, Lydia." 
 
 "To keep me or Janey warm, I know you would, 
 but how about yourself, Theo?" 
 
 "Oh, I am strong, Lydia," I said, uneasily. "I am 
 always warm." 
 
 "Very," ironically, "very warm, with frost-bitten 
 fingers and toes ! But you are of no consequence ever 
 to yourself. Strange, strange girl! Truly religious, 
 yet to get warmth for me or Janey you would coax 
 the Devil into giving you a brazier of coals from Hell. 
 And cheat him, later, out of his just demand for your 
 soul." 
 
 "Satan is always cheated, Lydia." 
 
 "The worst of it is no one is worth the trouble 
 taken about them; I'm not, my poor Jane is not. It's 
 absurd when you really ponder on the subject," she 
 went on, "the fuss man makes about man. Men brag 
 about the great inventions made what do they 
 amount to after all? A cable laid across the ocean 
 
 46
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 for what purpose, pray? To carry twaddling messages 
 for men ! The great world swings on through space 
 who may stop its course? Not that wretched pygmy, 
 Man. 'I chain the lightning,' he cries; and the next 
 moment lies withered and dead by its power." 
 
 The door was gently opened and Janey entered. 
 She held one hand behind her as she advanced slowly 
 into the room; she had on coat and hat and had evi- 
 dently just come in the house. 
 
 "Guess what I have for you, Theo." 
 
 I laughed. "A snow-ball, Pet?" 
 
 "A present from an admirer, Theo," she said, smil- 
 ing. "But his heart it is another's by rights, that 
 is. What queer things men's hearts are, flying about 
 like mad!" 
 
 "What do you know about hearts, Goosie?" I de- 
 manded. "Come and guess in your turn what our fire 
 is made of." 
 
 Janey's curiosity was aroused and she ran to me. 
 As she did so Lydia cried out in horror: 
 
 "Janey! Peacock's feathers! Where did you get 
 them, why did you bring them here? Throw them 
 into the fire this moment; burn them, quick!" 
 
 "Why, mummy!" exclaimed the child, half fright- 
 ened, half displeased, "they're so pretty, why must I 
 burn them? Mr. Gill gave them to me. He told me 
 to show them to my sister, Theo" ; her eyes began to 
 sparkle, "he really meant them for you, Theo; you 
 take them," and she thrust the bunch of graceful 
 plumes into my hand. 
 
 "They bring bad luck," cried Lydia, sitting up in 
 bed. "I won't have them in the house ; wrap them in 
 paper and put them in the fire." 
 
 Janey climbed up on the high bed. "Let me keep 
 them," she pleaded, and she kissed her mother. Un- 
 fortunately her veil fell over her face as she did so. 
 
 "Kissing me through your veil!" wailed Lydia, 
 47
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Oh, what more is in store for us? First those omens 
 of ill luck" the poor feathers were now in the fire 
 "and then you must forget how often I have told you 
 not to kiss me when your veil is down. O Janey, 
 Janey, what have you done ?" 
 
 "It's all gone now, Lydia, the bad luck, I mean," 
 I said, hastily; "the feathers are in ashes. Jane didn't 
 mean to disobey you." 
 
 "What's all this about disobeying?" asked Lilian, 
 strolling in. "Lydia busily engaged in ruling the 
 rost, as usual? Doesn't it ever strike you that you're 
 fearfully stuck on yourself, Mrs. Braithe? What?" as 
 an explanation followed, "peacock's feathers? Great 
 heavens! How long will it be, I wonder, before Theo 
 and Jane realize that you know what you're about 
 and that they don't?" 
 
 These superstitious fancies wore upon Lydia, and 
 often, through her, upon my healthy nerves ; I grew so 
 fearful of doing something that she might consider 
 unlucky. 
 
 One night during the last week of that month 
 February we were all waked at midnight by the 
 howling of a dog under Lydia's window. She was 
 very much terrified, thinking the sound betokened 
 the approach of death so feared now because of her 
 husband's threat. The moon had just risen and, 
 though obscured every few moments by light clouds, 
 for a storm was brewing, gave sufficient light for me 
 to see that the black object squatting on the snow far 
 below was the Gills' half -grown puppy, Jumbo. This 
 I told Lydia, thinking to calm her excited fancy, but 
 she said he had been "sent." 
 
 "Dear Lydia, the poor dog is probably cold and hun- 
 gry," I said, "and is howling to tell us so. He has 
 strayed from home." 
 
 I dressed and went downstairs to let him in. To 
 my surprise he did not want to come. He let me pat 
 
 48
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 him, but took up his mournful plaint again the mo- 
 ment I stopped, so I gathered him up around the 
 middle and toiled with him up the steps into the house. 
 His long hind legs, limp and floppy, dragged after 
 him, for though but a pup he was big; he yelped in 
 protest and licked my face, alternately, all the way. 
 The Chevalier, shut into Lilian's room to prevent a 
 quarrel, barked angrily, but in spite of the turmoil all 
 might have gone well had not Lilian's desire to see 
 what was going on induced her to open her door on a 
 crack, when out the Chevalier squeezed and was upon 
 Jumbo in an instant. I had just set the pup down at 
 the head of the staircase and Charles Stuart's sudden 
 rush sent them rolling down it together. Then I 
 heard the front door yet I was sure I had shut it 
 jar to heavily, and again Jumbo began his lugubrious 
 song. 
 
 If I had had time to take him into Lydia's room 
 and to warm and feed him there, I think both she and 
 the puppy might have spent a comfortable night. As 
 it was both were wretched. Jumbo would not let me 
 catch nor drive him from the house, but stayed and 
 howled till dawn. By morning poor Lydia was alarm- 
 ingly ill. 
 
 There followed a three-days' storm, breaking up 
 the ice in the river and piling it in mighty heaps along 
 shore. Dr. Strong came to us on the second day, his 
 bushy eyebrows and whiskers covered with ice from 
 his long drive in the teeth of the wind. He looked 
 very grave over Lydia and did what little he could for 
 her, saying he would get to us the next day, if possible. 
 She was so much brighter then, however, that I was 
 glad when he failed to come, knowing how busy he was 
 elsewhere and how weary. 
 
 That night, in spite of the wild noises of the storm, 
 I slept soundly on my lounge at the foot of Lydia's 
 bed, my anxiety being, for the time, over. But at 
 
 49
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 twelve she roused me and I went to her. She was sit- 
 ting up in bed, her eyes fixed upon the panel which 
 gave entrance to my father's dressing-room; a look 
 of great dread was in them, and her small, pinched 
 face was gray. 
 
 "Listen!" she whispered, holding up a wasted hand. 
 "Don't you hear him in the library?" From the room 
 below came an odd, muffled sound, as of footsteps that 
 echoed dully. "O Theo," turning to me suddenly, 
 "hold me ! Don't let me go !" 
 
 I got up beside her, wrapped her warm and held her 
 close in my arms. 
 
 "Only the noises of the storm, dear Lydia," I said, 
 soothingly. "Lean against me and try to be calm." 
 
 Far to the northward, away up the river, we heard 
 the roar and cry of the approaching blast. 
 
 "Pray for me," cried Lydia, clinging to me in fran- 
 tic terror. "I hear him on the spiral stairway Theo, 
 Theo, pray!" 
 
 A passionate pity for this suffering, born of super- 
 stition, filled my heart. I began to chant the Creed; 
 to fight the unreal with the real: 
 
 "/ believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of 
 heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, 
 our Lord." 
 
 An ecstasy, such as is at rare intervals vouchsafed 
 to us poor mortals, swept over me, possessed me. The 
 storm rushed down upon us, shaking the house, rat- 
 tling doors and windows, making the old trees creak 
 with its violence. I scarcely heeded, for to me it 
 seemed as if the heavens had parted, flooding all with 
 an effulgent radiance the radiance of the great 
 White Throne. 
 
 "/ believe in God, the Father Almighty" I chanted, 
 exultingly, "and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our 
 Lord." 
 
 Then, very slowly, I came back to earth. I saw the 
 50
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 feeble glimmer of night-lamp and fire reflected in the 
 shining surface of the ponderous mahogany furniture ; 
 and I saw, with a start of apprehension, that the panel 
 leading into the dressing-room had jarred aside. Then 
 I felt the utter abandonment of the fragile little creat- 
 ure in my arms. 
 
 "Lydia!" I whispered. "Dear Lydia, you feel bet- 
 ter now ?" 
 
 Her head lay upon my breast, her arms across 
 my shoulders. 
 
 "He opened the panel," she faltered, shuddering; 
 "he looked in; but he dared not enter because of 
 your great faith. And I?" her voice grew steadier, 
 stronger, "Lord, I believe help Thou mine unbe- 
 lief!" 
 
 I laid her back among her pillows. I thought she 
 slept. But in the morning she did not waken. 
 
 51
 
 VII 
 
 Although I had known for many months that 
 Lydia's time on earth was short, her death was a 
 great shock to me. I missed my kind little step- 
 mother sadly. Poor Janey was almost heart-broken, 
 and even Lilian, I think, felt her loss more than she 
 said. 
 
 Mindful of my promise, I had carried out Lydia's 
 wishes in regard to her last resting-place. I put her 
 in no coffin, but, instead, made her a couch of the fir 
 and the hemlock; lining the damp grave with their 
 lightest branches, selecting the slenderest, the most 
 yielding. Upon this rude bed I laid her tenderly, 
 with reverent care, and covered her close with the silk- 
 en folds of the Flag. Lydia believed that to sleep 
 beneath our glorious symbol of the highest ideals that 
 man has ever striven to live up to must bring a grand 
 repose. 
 
 "I shall rest better if allowed to rest with the 
 Stars and Stripes around me," she had said. "But 
 should I rise to protect you from evil, Theo, as rise I 
 shall, I swear, should you need me, I will come in my 
 shroud. Then, returning, knoAving that in death I 
 have achieved what in life was denied me for I have 
 done nothing for you, Theo I may again fold the 
 Flag close to my heart, and so sleep." 
 
 Ten days after I had said good-by to her Mr. Beech- 
 am came to Braithe. It was in the morning, and we 
 were in the dining-room, where glowed a comforting 
 fire, owing to the kindness of Dr. Strong, who had 
 sent us a load of coal. Lilian had curled herself up in 
 a ragged easy-chair drawn close to the chimney side, 
 
 52
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 and was absorbed in an old novel. Her shabby slip- 
 pers toasted on the hearth. One foot she sat on; the 
 other, dangling free, looked piebald because of the 
 many holes in her black stocking. 
 
 I busied myself cutting out a frock for little Jane 
 from an old gown of her mother's. As I snipped and 
 twisted serge and pattern, my mind sought anxiously 
 for an answer to the problem given it. How might 
 Lilian and I find work? We must not continue to live 
 upon charity, I thought, glancing at the fire in the 
 high, old-fashioned grate, yet what could we do? Un- 
 til we could sell Braithe Manor we must earn our own 
 living, and I feared a purchaser for so large and iso- 
 lated an estate might be hard to find. 
 
 We were not well educated. Poor Lydia had had 
 too much to do after the birth of little Jane, and the 
 child's subsequent misfortune, to spend much time in 
 teaching her step-daughters; and Mr. Braithe had 
 vowed he would waste no more money in hiring gov- 
 ernesses for a brace of useless girls. Save for the little 
 I had learned by reading everything that came in my 
 way, and a slight knowledge of languages picked up 
 in Europe, I knew absolutely nothing; Lilian, poor 
 thing, still less. 
 
 My mind, instead of concentrating itself upon the 
 little frock taking outline upon the table, insisted 
 upon attending not only to the work in hand, but to 
 our future as well. As I worked I saw, in imagina- 
 tion, all the lions that might confront us on our 
 way. 
 
 I looked at the child, perched on the other end of 
 the table, busily committing a chapter of the Bible to 
 memory. She had announced her intention of learn- 
 ing it all by heart that she might understand religion; 
 but had begun in the middle of the book to avoid dis- 
 couragement. Little Jane, who must be left in charge 
 of strangers while I went out into the world to seek 
 
 53
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 fortune for her! There came an ache in my heart, I 
 could not see the little frock. My Janey, my little 
 sister, how could I part from her; how find for her the 
 care she needed? 
 
 "I'm not naturally religious, Theo," she said, sud- 
 denly, breaking in upon my musings. "I'm afraid 
 I'll always be a kind of make-believe." She sighed, 
 then cried, excitedly, "Look, Theo, look quick! Here 
 comes someone up the avenue! Lilian, Lilian, wake 
 up! Put on your slippers, do; a carriage is coming." 
 
 When Mr. Beecham entered, Lilian and Janey ran 
 away, that I might be left to deal with business mat- 
 ters alone. Of this I did not approve, for I thought he 
 came to read Mr. Braithe's will, so, after the usual cer- 
 emonies of greeting were over, I spoke to him of this. 
 He had taken up his position on the hearth-rug, his 
 back to the fire, and stood looking meditatively at me. 
 He was a gray man; complexion, eyes, lips, hair all 
 were gray. He had a pompous manner. 
 
 "It was kind of you to come, with the roads in so 
 bad a condition, Mr. Beecham," I began, seeing he 
 seemed disinclined for speech. "We are to hear my 
 father's will, I suppose." 
 
 "Of course, Miss Braithe," he said in his slow way, 
 "if that is your wish; otherwise it is, in this case, un- 
 necessary." 
 
 "But why?" I asked. 
 
 Poor Mr. Beecham! No wonder that he had hesi- 
 tated about beginning so trying an interview. He 
 was a kind man, and his news was hard to tell; for we 
 were completely destitute. Mr. Braithe had had noth- 
 ing to leave. Braithe Manor had passed from his 
 hands years before, and now belonged to Etienne Rap- 
 pelle. It was Etienne Rappelle's roof that had shel- 
 tered us since our return from Europe Etienne Rap- 
 pelle's trees that I had wished to have cut down and 
 burned; Lydia had prevented me, and I was grateful. 
 
 54
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 She had known of this since Mr. Braithe's death, and 
 had spared me the knowledge. Tender-hearted little 
 Lydia ! 
 
 I felt as though the solid earth were giving way be- 
 neath my feet. Where were we to stay while looking 
 for work? How get enough money to live on till then? 
 I was frightened. Would Mr. Beecham help me? I 
 asked him. 
 
 "It is exceedingly difficult, Miss Braithe," he said, 
 gravely, in his slow, pompous way, "for young gentle- 
 women to obtain the means of support. There are, 
 unfortunately, so many striving for situations as gov- 
 ernesses, companions, housekeepers, and the like. I 
 have one young friend who has been desirous of ob- 
 taining employment for the past seven months; but, 
 owing to an imperfection in her education, she is de- 
 barred from the position of teacher; and people prefer 
 employing persons of the middle class as housekeep- 
 ers. May I ask what you think of applying for?" 
 
 My heart had sunk lower and lower during his little 
 speech. What was I fitted for, indeed? I told him 
 what I knew, and what I was capable of doing. 
 
 "I fear," he said, "that people would rather en- 
 gage natives of France and Germany to teach their 
 children those languages. I doubt if you may hope to 
 succeed as a teacher, Miss Braithe ; and as to obtaining 
 
 a position as housekeeper or companion " He 
 
 paused again. 
 
 "I think I might do well enough as one of these," I 
 said, pleadingly. But once more he shook his 
 head. 
 
 "Forgive my saying so, my dear young lady, but 
 you are too young." 
 
 "I am twenty-three," I interrupted quickly, "and in 
 reality much older. I am not a young woman in expe- 
 rience, Mr. Beecham." 
 
 "Allow me," he said, waving my words aside with 
 55
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 his hand, "too young, and far too handsome," bowing 
 gravely, "to obtain either situation easily, if if at 
 all." 
 
 I sat still, tongue-tied by despair. Mr. Beecham 
 stood and viewed my misery without seeming to have 
 any suggestion to offer. 
 
 "How is your little sister, Miss Jane?" he asked, 
 after the silence had lasted for some time. 
 
 "She is always about the same, thank you," I said, 
 wearily. 
 
 "Has she had the best medical advice ?" 
 
 I thought his question a trifle unkind, under the 
 circumstances; but reminded myself that he probably 
 felt embarrassed, his position being an unpleasant one, 
 and answered the tactless query gently. 
 
 "No, so far, not." 
 
 "You sent a letter to Mr. Etienne Rappelle directly 
 upon the demise of Mrs. Braithe, did you not?" 
 
 I answered in the affirmative. Lydia had worried 
 over this letter, left by my father for Mr. Rappelle, 
 until I had given my promise to send it. I had disliked 
 doing so extremely. What might the letter con- 
 tain ? Something disagreeable, judging from the oth- 
 ers. The color surged hotly into my cheeks, in expec- 
 tation of what I might have to hear. Had Mr. Braithe 
 expressed his long-concealed hatred in that letter? 
 Had he but no he could not have asked charity for 
 us; our future had never been his care. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Beecham was fumbling in his pock- 
 et, and presently drew from it a parcel, which he 
 placed in my hands. 
 
 "Before delivering a a message, with which I am 
 intrusted," he said, pompously, but withal very kindly, 
 "may I beg you to receive this?" 
 
 Seeing that I was expected to open it, I did so, and 
 found the beautiful mother-of-pearl case that had al- 
 ways been the resting-place of my opal. With trem- 
 
 56
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 bling fingers I pressed the spring. Inside lay not only 
 my lost gem, but its diamond chain as well. 
 
 "Beautiful!" exclaimed Mr. Beecham, stooping 
 down, glasses on nose to see better, "a beautiful jewel. 
 And, as I understand, with a most interesting history. 
 Handed down,. I believe, from mother to eldest 
 daughter for many generations. Permit me to con- 
 gratulate you upon its recovery for it is yours 
 again." 
 
 Then, gathering himself together, he told me, in 
 as few words as possible, that in any case the opal was 
 mine, since the sender, Etienne Rappelle, would de- 
 cline to take it back; but that he, Mr. Rappelle, hoped 
 that I might consent to become his wife. 
 
 I sat quite still, feeling as though I were in a bad 
 dream; while Mr. Beecham, sighing deeply as if 
 thankful that the most difficult part of his mission was 
 over, went on more cheerfully with his task. 
 
 "If you will agree to this arrangement, my dear 
 Miss Braithe," he said, "things will naturally right 
 themselves, as is highly desirable, and Braithe Manor 
 will still be in the family." 
 
 "But I don't know Mr. Rappelle," I cried. "I have 
 never even seen him!" Then, as is my wont, because 
 of Lydia's training, rapidly viewing his side of the 
 question, I added, "I am sure he is only doing this 
 from a sense of duty. I thank him, Mr. Beecham, I 
 am grateful, please tell him so, but what he proposes 
 is out of the question. As for the opal I accept it 
 with heart-felt thanks. It was like a true Rappelle to 
 send it but it must be sold. Perhaps you will attend 
 to this for me, Mr. Beecham, and we can live upon 
 what it brings for a time." 
 
 "Not very long," he said, shaking his head. "And 
 allow me to say that Mr. Rappelle has seen you, Miss 
 Braithe, if you did not see him. It was at your fath- 
 er's funeral. He is a fine man, a strictly honorable 
 
 57
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 man. I should advise you to reconsider your answer, 
 Miss Braithe." 
 
 It was my turn to shake my head, but Mr. Beecham, 
 all his pomposity of speech suddenly gone, began his 
 task, self-imposed, of persuading me to do what he 
 thought my duty. He spoke well, that I could not 
 deny, reminding me of my obligation, as Head of the 
 Family, toward my sisters. It was for me, he urged, 
 to protect and provide for them, so far as I was able. 
 Of Janey, and her need of constant, watchful care 
 care only to be given by one who loved her and the 
 necessity of good medical advice, he spoke long and 
 earnestly; of Janey, who, all unconscious, was at that 
 moment pleading her own cause. For her childish 
 treble, piping high, reached us in the dining-room, as 
 she went singing through the hall; changing the words 
 of an old verse to suit her fancy as she sang. 
 
 " Oh, poverty is disconsolate ; 
 Its wants are many, many, many . 
 Its woes are strong foes are strong 
 Woes and foes, both are strong. " 
 
 The big tears welled up into my eyes and rolled 
 slowly down my cheeks. 
 
 "There, there," said Mr. Beecham, suddenly break- 
 ing off in his harangue, "don't take it so hard, my dear. 
 Ah! what a remarkable gem that is; a moment ago it 
 was so very brilliant, and now it is almost white. No, 
 I am mistaken, the color sweeps across its surface. And 
 I am glad to see that the red of the rose," bowing in 
 his old-fashioned way, "is once more rivalled in your 
 cheeks. Does that mean you will decide sensibly, Miss 
 Braithe? Rappelle is in every way a suitable match, 
 very suitable; not yet forty and a strictly honorable 
 man. I think you may safely trust yourself to him." 
 
 "Oh, I have faith in Mr. Rappelle, as far as that 
 goes," I said, trying to smile I was sorry for Mr. 
 
 58
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Beecham. "If he really wishes it you may say to 
 
 him " I broke down and began to cry outright 
 
 Janey's song had decided me; I would take up the 
 cross ready for my shoulders. I believed a loveless 
 marriage to be a crime; but I must try to forget my 
 own soul, my own distaste, my own happiness. Janey 
 came first now, as always. 
 
 "Let me see," said Mr. Beecham, hurrying into his 
 coat as though anxious to be off before I had time to 
 change my mind, "to-day is Saturday. Rappelle sails 
 on Wednesday business in London no, my dear, 
 you are not to accompany him. Tuesday he must be 
 in town, business appointments. He suggests Mon- 
 day noon. Now, my dear Miss Braithe, just one mo- 
 ment before you speak, how else can he be in the 
 proper position to provide for you? A most sensible 
 arrangement. Yes, yes, gives you time to become 
 accustomed to to in short," desperately, "to every- 
 thing. I'll see Dr. Strong and tell him the happy 
 news. I believe from my heart," he spoke solemnly, 
 holding out his hand in farewell, "that you will never 
 have cause to regret your decision." 
 
 I strove to smile through my tears. 
 
 "Whatever happens, Mr. Beecham," I faltered, "I 
 shall always be sure that you tried to advise me for 
 the best. I thank you for being so kind." 
 
 "Good-by, my dear," he said, hurriedly, "and and 
 God bless you!" He wrung my hand hard and hur- 
 ried away. 
 
 I stood still where he had left me. Surely the 
 lightning had struck. The great opal, shimmering in 
 its coil of dull gold, looked up at me like a big eye. 
 Why, I wondered, even at the moment of accepting it 
 and when boldly declaring that I should sell it, had I 
 known in my inmost heart that this must not be? 
 Was it because of the large sum probably already paid 
 for the gem by Etienne Rappelle? It was his jewel 
 
 59
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 by rights now. What had become of that money? 
 Gambled away, no doubt, in a single night wasted 
 in dissipation. How could Mr. Rappelle wish to 
 marry a Braithe? But did he really wish it? Could 
 it be possible that the old oath had been forced 
 upon him by his father? If so, why had he not 
 simply offered to help us instead of proposing mar- 
 riage? My head ached, my heart was sick within 
 me; God help me to do my duty it was so hard, 
 so very hard ! 
 
 Hearing my sisters coming I closed the case of the 
 opal, and put it on the high chimney-piece, beneath 
 the portrait of Lady Sophia Braithe an earl's daugh- 
 ter the wife of Vivian, my great-great-great-grand- 
 father, builder of the American Braithe. The Lady 
 Sophia was a blonde beauty. Lilian resembled her 
 closely, save that Lady Sophia's chin bespoke a more 
 determined will. Perhaps at thirty Lilian might look 
 more like her ancestress; I hoped most earnestly she 
 might never be like her in any other way, for the Lady 
 Sophia had not been a good woman. 
 
 To Lilian those who looked down upon us from 
 their carved or gilded frames were merely shadows; 
 unnoticed unless, the light burning dim at late hours 
 of the night, a fear of them as ghosts sent her scurrying 
 past each portrait, with pale cheeks and averted eyes, 
 when on her way to bed. To me these dead and gone 
 men and women were very real. Having no supersti- 
 tious fancies I did not fear their wraiths, but the 
 stories of their evil doings saddened me. I sometimes 
 found myself looking wearily into the blue eyes of the 
 Lady Sophia, and, as her descendant, judging her. 
 How had she dared to be so wicked? I thought the 
 reason I cared so little for Braithe House was because 
 of those who had lived beneath its roof; and who so 
 it seemed to me had but just passed over its threshold 
 to the neighborhood of the chapel beyond the garden. 
 
 60
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Braithe had been built by one of them, and its atmos- 
 phere still seemed tainted by their presence. 
 
 "Well," demanded Lilian, coming in, "have we 
 anything? Is there a cent left?" 
 
 "Theo!" cried Janey, pushing her aside, "you have 
 been crying." And running to me she threw her arms 
 how thin they were ! around my neck. 
 
 "It is nothing, pet," I said, soothingly; then, in an- 
 swer to Lilian, "We shall not want, Lilian, for," the 
 words were hard to manage, "for I am to marry 
 Etienne Rappelle." 
 
 "What?" cried Lilian, in a musical scream. "It's 
 not possible!" 
 
 I bowed my head in reply; I could not speak. A 
 wild-rose flush stained Lilian's pale cheeks, and kick- 
 ing off her slippers she began to dance lightly and 
 gracefully about the room, clapping her hands in time 
 to the wild gyrations. 
 
 " Hurrah, hurrah, I'll yell a jubilee! " 
 she sang, and never had her voice sounded sweeter, 
 
 " Hurrah, hurrah, for the chap what sets us free! 
 Join me in the chorus, for grocers we will be, 
 Grocers from this tune forward! " 
 
 "Stop, Lilian!" commanded Janey, stamping her 
 foot. "Wicked, wicked girl! O Theo, my Theo," 
 clasping me closer, and kissing my cheeks again and 
 again, "your poor heart is hurt ! Why must you marry 
 him? If one of us has to, why won't Lilian do? She 
 wants to marry; she's always said she would marry a 
 rich man; let her do it. You and I were to live alone 
 together, Theo, just us two. Let Lilian marry him." 
 
 Lilian had paused to listen. 
 
 "You hear what Janey suggests, Lilian?" I said, 
 looking at her wistfully. "I think she is right about 
 
 61
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Mr. Rappelle" I did not believe the love-at-first 
 sight theory advanced by Mr. Beecham "I think 
 that he wishes, merely, to marry one of the Braithes, 
 in order to help the family. If you don't mind, won't 
 you take him?" 
 
 The color faded from Lilian's cheeks. 
 
 "How mean of you!" she cried. "How nasty, and 
 mean, and hateful! You know I can't " 
 
 "You mean you won't," Jane interrupted, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 I hastened to avert a storm. 
 
 "Of course if you would rather not, Lilian," I said. 
 Then, taking the opal from the chimney-piece, "see, 
 this has come home." 
 
 "The Gypsy's Opal!" said Lilian, in an awed whis- 
 per. "The diamond chain! O Theo!" 
 
 "Pretty, pretty gem!" said little Jane, touching it 
 caressingly with one small finger. "See how its color 
 comes and goes ! It flushes and pales with you, Theo. 
 Does little mummy know of it, do you think? It 
 would please her so." 
 
 "The Opal and the Rappelle millions!" said Lilian. 
 She had an odd, frightened look. "Even you, Theo, 
 must confess that your luck and the opal are one." 
 
 I said nothing. Luck, indeed ! But there are two 
 kinds. 
 
 Lilian smiled, recovering without apparent effort 
 her wild spirits of the moment before. The pretty 
 color returned to her pale cheeks as she said good-na- 
 turedly, nodding at Jane: 
 
 "You see I can't marry him because he don't want 
 me, little Goose ; and won't for the same reason he's 
 in love with Theo." 
 
 Again she began to sing, and little Jane, fascinated, 
 though disapproving, watched her as she drifted light- 
 ly about the room, swaying with the rhythm of the 
 music. 
 
 62
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 " My aunt La Mode, from the city, 
 Came out for the country air ; 
 She thought my cheeks were painted, 
 And asked who made my hair ? 
 And when she learned it grew there, 
 She called for ink and pen. 
 She made her will and bought me 
 For one of the Upper Ten." 
 
 She ceased singing, stood still an instant, then 
 nodded her graceful head at wide-eyed Janey, and 
 saying, "Now for the true version," recommenced her 
 song: 
 
 " Grocer Rappelle, from the city, 
 Came out for a funeral affair; 
 He thought Miss Braithe's cheeks painted, 
 Quoth he, ' Who made that hair ? ' 
 But when he learned both grew there, 
 He hied to his grocery, then 
 Planked down his check, and bought her, 
 To the tune of millions ten." 
 
 "Lilian!" cried Janey. Swept by a storm of indig- 
 nation, and with cheeks aflame, eyes flashing, her 
 small hand uplifted to strike the offender, she would 
 have flown at Lilian had I not caught and held her. 
 
 "There, Jane, come to; I didn't mean anything," 
 said Lilian. 
 
 The child and I both stared in amazement. Never 
 had we seen Lilian in a mood of apology before. 
 
 "Of course he fell in love with her at the funeral. 
 I'll put it elegantly, if you prefer," she went on, taking 
 up her position on the hearth-rug, her back to the fire. 
 She looked more like the Lady Sophia than ever be- 
 fore, I thought, as I glanced from one to the other. 
 "He looked, naturally enough, at our family group; 
 and, Jane Braithe, you and I 'weren't in it for a minit.' 
 For he saw a graceful girl, five feet five in height 
 but looking taller because of regal shoulders, and the 
 proud carriage of her well-shaped head." Jane's sigh 
 
 63
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 of satisfaction echoed through the lofty room; again 
 she was absorbed. "A velvet girl. Her slumbrous 
 waves of dusky hair black velvet. Her large, soft 
 eyes eyes passionate or mirthful, pathetic or simply 
 pellucid lakes, as the mood of their owner changes 
 gray velvet, daytimes; black velvet for evening wear." 
 
 "That's so!" from Jane. 
 
 "A skin like white velvet," continued Lilian in sol- 
 emn declamation, "save where, in the perfectly round- 
 ed oval of that high-bred face, the rich color comes 
 and goes. Now a stain of deepest carmine, and now a 
 wondrous pink. 'Those eyebrows were surely pen- 
 cilled with a brush of velvet!' sighs the Billionaire. 
 Miss Braithe smiles slowly. (Mr. Gill has just 
 picked up her handkerchief; held in her hand for 
 looks' sake. No tears on account of dear pa's demise 
 dampen its snowy folds.)" 
 
 "Lilian!" cries Janey, really shocked. 
 
 "Shall I stop?" Lilian asks. 
 
 "N-o" Poor Jane is a little ashamed of her inter- 
 est. And I, I am but too thankful to have the child's 
 mind kept from serious thoughts, to yield to my own 
 desire to stop what is very cruel nonsense to me. 
 
 "Where was I, Jane?" from Lilian. 
 
 "Gill has just picked up her handkerchief, and 
 she's smiling." It is evidently but a fairy tale to the 
 child. 
 
 "Oh, yes. Theo smiles a slow, strange smile; a 
 somewhat languorous smile. Tantalizing dimples ap- 
 pear suddenly in those velvet cheeks; the carmine is 
 beautiful, so rich. Is there, or is there not, the Gro- 
 cer asks himself, a dimple also in that wonderfully al- 
 luring chin? He stares at her with might and main; 
 he can't make out; probably because of a grain of 
 starch, or rice, in his right-hand optic. Says he to him- 
 self, 'I'll have that girl if I bust the bank to get her! 
 
 I'll dress her in velvet and then' In his lordly im- 
 
 64
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 agination he puts a hand under that velvet chin, and 
 lifts it; he must see if there be a dimple there or not. 
 (And what matter if the hand is a trifle gritty with 
 
 brown sugar, and slightly scented with cheese " 
 
 I could bear no more. 
 
 "Lilian, O Lilian!" I exclaimed, in a sudden agony. 
 
 Janey, turning, fixed her great blue eyes upon my 
 pallid face. Then, in a very passion of pity, flung her 
 arms around my neck, and crying out, "O Jephthah's 
 daughter! Oh, the early Christian martyrs!" burst 
 into wild tears of self-reproach. 
 
 I felt that I must put an end to this strange scene 
 at once that there must be no more disrespect shown 
 by Lilian toward the Rappelle, who, like his grand- 
 fathers, was sacrificing himself for a Braithe. I un- 
 clasped the child's arms from about my neck; and, 
 still holding one of her little hands in mine, laid my 
 right hand, for support, upon the Bible, lying open 
 upon the table before me. I was scarcely conscious 
 that its pages were beneath my fingers, so shaken was 
 I by what I had undertaken. I found it, somehow, 
 very hard to hold myself erect, as I stood facing Lilian 
 and the Lady Sophia Braithe. 
 
 "I have promised to marry Etienne Rappelle," I 
 said very slowly, striving hard to keep my voice steady 
 and to force back the tears that blurred the faces of 
 Lilian and the Lady Sophia. "And I shall try to prove 
 to him that a Braithe can be loyal to a Rappelle. I 
 shall swear before God to love and to obey him, till 
 death us do part." I was silent for a long moment, 
 then, looking no longer at Lilian, but straight into the 
 cold blue eyes of my great-great-great-grandmother, I 
 said, still more slowly, "I now swear that I shall strive 
 to keep my vow, no matter what Etienne Rappelle 
 chooses to do or not to do. The wheel of change has 
 swung around. The Braithes have ruled their supe- 
 riors long enough; it is time the Rappelles assumed, as 
 
 65
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 such, their rightful place. I shall, doubtless, be very 
 happy as the wife of so honorable, so well-born a man 
 as Etienne Rappelle." 
 
 I had expected an outburst of disapproval from Lil- 
 ian, just as I had hoped for, and rejoiced to hear, a 
 deep sigh of relief from Janey. The child believed 
 my last statement, as I had intended she should. Lil- 
 ian, however, running quickly to me, pressed my hand 
 down firmly upon the page of Scripture on which it 
 rested, then lifting it, she read aloud the verses that 
 had lain beneath my finger tips: 
 
 "Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou ex- 
 cellest them all. 
 
 "Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a 
 woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." 
 
 "And I had hoped for a favorable omen!" sighed 
 Lilian. "Nothing but rubbish after all." 
 
 But little Jane, searching carefully with one small 
 finger, found the verses, and bending low her golden 
 head kissed them reverently. 
 
 I went quickly from the room. 
 
 66
 
 VIII 
 
 "Marry on Monday, marry for wealth!" quoted Lil- 
 ian, surveying me with cold disapproval. "Well, your 
 gown is proof positive that it is necessary. Such an 
 old dud! I hate thin India silks at their best, and 
 yours has been washed so many times it's simply hid- 
 eous such an ugly yellow white. It's a mercy Mrs. 
 Gill fell upon your sleeves, or they'd be indecently 
 flat. Wasn't she too common? I can hear her twangy 
 voice now as she said, 'Not sew on Sunday, Miss Theo? 
 Is that the reason you won't make 'em buff ant? I 
 want to know! I go to church pretty regularly, I 
 guess, but when my ox falls down inter a pit, why, I 
 jest stay home an' haul him out; so now I'll run and 
 get a pattren.' Well, she did fairly considering," 
 walking around me. "You'll have to do, I suppose; 
 but I must say you're the shabbiest bride I ever saw !" 
 
 The mirror vouched for Lilian's truthfulness. The 
 sleeves poor Mrs. Gill's handiwork were short, just 
 big puffs, and had been made from bits of the old long 
 ones; every piece showed. The corsage of the gown 
 was cut square ; and close about my throat was clasped 
 the diamond chain, with its pendant. But the opal 
 looked dull ; as dull as my white face and tired eyes. 
 
 I had slept little since Mr. Beecham's visit. I had 
 passed the two nights such long yet such short nights 
 in tears. I had dree'd my weird hard. My sole 
 consolation lay in the knowledge that I came, on my 
 father's side, of a short-lived race. The Braithes mar- 
 ried and died young. Mr. Braithe was wont to boast 
 
 67
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 of the number of greats put before the name of old 
 Vivian so-calledj although he had passed away when 
 he was thirty-five who yet had not built Braithe 
 House until late in seventeen hundred. 
 
 During these wakeful nights I had concluded finally 
 and, as I thought, forever, that I was being married 
 because of the power of the old oath; that Etienne 
 Rappelle had felt it impossible to help us in any other 
 way, and, having sworn to "stand by the family," was 
 about to sacrifice his personal freedom for the sake of 
 this foolish vow. And I must help him to consum- 
 mate this sacrifice! 
 
 As I stood staring at my pale reflection in the mir- 
 ror, a carriage drove slowly up to the house. A wave 
 of color swept across the face in the glass, and the 
 great opal showed a crimson stain in its heart. 
 
 "Dr. and Mrs. Strong," announced Lilian, running 
 to look from the window. "They are bringing in box 
 after box! O Theo! a basket of champagne," and she 
 rushed downstairs. A moment later she reappeared, 
 followed by the doctor's wife, a plump, cheerful little 
 woman. Both were laden down with boxes. 
 
 "How d'you do, dear child," said Mrs. Strong, drop- 
 ping her burden on the bed and kissing me kindly. 
 " 'Happy is the bride the sun shines on,' and the sun- 
 shine's coming, never fear. I said to doctor as we 
 came along that the day would be fine, after all, 
 though it did look dubious this morning. Mr. Beech- 
 am will be here directly; he waited to meet Mr. Rap- 
 pelle. Mrs. Beecham and the girls can't come ; so sor- 
 ry; she's got a cold and they engagements. Mr. 
 Beecham will give you away, Theo. No, the doctor' d 
 rather not. Some nonsense about leading a lamb to 
 the slaughter; he's got old-fashioned ideas, you know. 
 Yes, of course you must wear a veil ; I wish 'twas lace, 
 but tulle must do and these gloves, Theo," opening 
 another parcel, "I got several pairs; I didn't know 
 
 68
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 your number or Lilian's. As for flowers, I suppose 
 Mr. Rappelle will bring plenty, but gentlemen are 
 forgetful about trifles, so in case he shouldn't, you can 
 wear these." 
 
 I felt grateful and tried to say so; but speaking, 
 without tears, was difiicult, and I resigned myself into 
 her hands, hoping she might understand. A second, 
 and third carriage rolled up the avenue, the last at a 
 great pace. 
 
 "Mr. Rappelle and two strange men," said Lilian. 
 
 "Oh, my Theo, my Theo," cried Janey, a silent 
 spectator hitherto, "how lovely you look, and how sad ! 
 Your eyes are too big, Theo; you've got great black 
 circles under them, most down to your chin." 
 
 She ran to throw her arms around me, but Mrs. 
 Strong deftly stopped her, stepping in between us. 
 
 "Tie this in your doggie's collar, dear," she said, 
 giving the child a long piece of white satin ribbon. 
 "He must have a bridal favor, too." 
 
 "He won't want it," Janey protested. "Charles 
 Stuart may be selfish and greedy at times, but he loves 
 Theo better than anyone else in the world, and he 
 won't want her to be married. He wouldn't wear it 
 if he knew what it meant no, not for a hundred thou- 
 sand greasy bones." 
 
 There came a knock at the door, a very gentle 
 knock. Mrs. Strong cried, "Come in." I, feeling 
 very odd and faint, could not speak. A small man 
 stood on the threshold, bowing low. He had many 
 boxes in his hands, and entering timidly, gave them to 
 Mrs. Strong; then, looking at me, said gently, with a 
 deprecatory smile: 
 
 "Mr. Eappelle's compliments to Miss Braithe. Miss 
 Braithe will find Mr. Rappelle at the foot of the stair- 
 case when Miss Braithe is ready." 
 
 To please kind Mrs. Strong, who was doing all that 
 anyone could to help me, I tried to open the various
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 boxes; but my cold fingers trembled and, in pity, she 
 relieved me of the task. With sudden ohs! and ahs! 
 of satisfaction, she drew from one a bridal bouquet of 
 the choicest orchids, with clusters of orange-blossoms 
 and stephanotis, tied loosely with white satin ribbons 
 with long streamers. 
 
 "Beautiful!" she exclaimed, "and the latest fash- 
 ion." 
 
 There were more flowers in another box; but these 
 were roses, velvety red roses. Mrs. Strong openly 
 wondered at this choice. But the diamonds Mr. 
 Rappelle's wedding gift drove the memory of the 
 roses from her mind. 
 
 "Three diamond stars, Theo! What big ones! 
 And, dear child, look at this bracelet! Such splendid 
 diamonds! The stars will look lovely in your hair. 
 Doctor's always quoting that thing of Byron's, 
 isn't it? about you: 'She walks in beauty, like the 
 night.' What he'll say when he sees you crowned 
 with stars I don't know." 
 
 I sat silent, having no words of praise for Mr. Rap- 
 pelle's gifts. I felt unlike myself; so strangely apa- 
 thetic. My mind was no longer filled with imaginings 
 of what my life was to be, no longer searching for 
 ways of escape, no longer fashioning stronger, more 
 passionate prayers for sudden death since were I 
 gone Mr. Rappelle would care for Janey; of this I felt 
 sure. No, I awaited, dully, the moment that was to 
 place me among those of my fellow-creatures whom I 
 most despised: the men and women who had sold their 
 souls for gain. 
 
 "It is time to go down now, dear Theo," said Mrs. 
 Strong, very gently. 
 
 I rose, took the bouquet its fresh satin streamers 
 fluttering close against the worn silk of my wedding 
 gown waited a moment while poor Mrs. Strong 
 fussed anxiously about me, trying to make me fitter 
 
 70
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 for the part I was to play, and, very slowly, went out 
 upon the gallery that circled the hall. 
 
 A huge fire of logs, brought from the Gills', blazed 
 below in the great chimney. Its flames lighted up the 
 darkest corners, the old verse carved above the fire- 
 place, and the figure of a man standing at the foot of 
 the staircase. Then everything swung out of place be- 
 fore me, blurred together. But although I had not suf- 
 ficient courage to look at the man who was about to 
 become my husband, I was able to descend the stairs 
 steadily, clinging closely to the rail. 
 
 Mr. Rappelle did not speak as I joined him, but 
 taking my hand placed it upon his arm, and so led me 
 across the hall to the drawing-room, where the few 
 friends who had come to see me married were assem- 
 bled. 
 
 The shutters of the six tall windows opening upon 
 the pillared portico were flung wide; and through 
 them I saw the river, tossing southward, dark, blue, 
 and splendid, its waves excited by their tussle with the 
 sharp March wind. As I crossed the room I counted 
 childishly, to see if the clergyman were standing just 
 in the middle; yes, three windows to the right, three 
 to the left of him. It was through the one to his left 
 that I stared while dully reciting the vows that bound 
 me to Etienne Rappelle. I saw, without seeing, the 
 dark river, the mountains of its eastern shores, the 
 deeply blue sky and the torn masses of white clouds 
 driven across it saw without seeing, yet now I can 
 recall at will that wild March landscape. 
 
 Then I felt the touch of a stranger's lips upon my 
 cheek and knew that I had become Theodora Rap- 
 pelle. 
 
 It was a dreary little wedding. Mrs. Strong and 
 Mrs. Gill had very red eyes after the ceremony; while 
 Dr. Strong's rugged face was careworn. My little 
 Janey, wide-eyed and frightened-looking, clung tightly 
 
 71
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 to Dr. Strong's kind hand, as though in him she found 
 the strength she lacked. Lilian and Mr. Beecham, 
 however, seemed in excellent spirits; and I heard the 
 old lawyer paying my sister pompous compliments 011 
 her lovely color and the brightness of her eyes. 
 
 The wedding breakfast was an odd affair, since Mrs. 
 Strong, Mrs. Gill, and Lilian had each had a hand in 
 its arrangement. I had insisted that Mrs. Gill and her 
 family should be properly invited, in spite of Lilian's 
 indignant objections. The Gills had not only accepted 
 gladly, but had thrown themselves with enthusiasm 
 into the preparations for the wedding. Mr. Gill him- 
 self brought a wagon-load of wood, and then, taking off 
 his coat, went from room to room making fires. With 
 the help of his stepson, poor Abel Wylde, he had 
 dressed the house, in clumsy fashion, with greens; 
 while his wife had busied herself in making an end- 
 less variety of pies and cakes. These last loaded the 
 table, rubbing elbows with the delicate confections 
 sent by Mrs. Strong from Hilltown; and ruining Lil- 
 ian's efforts at decoration. 
 
 As if in a dream I heard Mrs. Gill indulging in 
 loud-voiced repartee with Mr. Rappelle's lawyer, in- 
 terspersing her sallies of wit with accounts of my 
 likes and dislikes and high moral worth; my prefer- 
 ence for apple-pie over pumpkin, childish weakness for 
 hot ginger-bread and dogs, kindness to the poor and 
 sick of a neighboring brickyard, and my deeply relig- 
 ious turn of mind. 
 
 "He's a lucky man, he is," she wound up, winking 
 behind her spectacles in the direction of the bride- 
 groom. "He's got a treasure in Miss Theo!" Then, 
 becoming suddenly grave, she added solemnly, "An' 
 I do hope the next time I see her a bride 'twill be done 
 more proper in a sating dress and bridesmaids three 
 in a breast walking before her to the hymeneall alter." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Gill was unaccustomed to champagne, 
 72
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 and, drinking it as cider, was undone. Her tongue 
 grew more ungovernable each moment, her voice more 
 strident. Even during Mr. Beecham's little speech 
 of congratulation she could not be silent, but, in imi- 
 tation of what she had read in newspaper accounts of 
 speeches, cried out at brief intervals, "Applause!" 
 "Laughter!" and wept and laughed by turns. 
 
 After Mr. Rappelle had responded to Mr. Beecham, 
 he asked me to come with him to the library for a few 
 last words, and with an air of deep devotion led me 
 from the room. His manner startled me from the 
 state of apathy into which I had fallen, for I knew it 
 to be assumed. Instantly my mind awoke to question 
 what this meant. I was frightened. What was com- 
 ing? 
 
 In spite of the fire glowing on the hearth two leop- 
 ards sat erect as andirons, holding the logs in check 
 the large room was very cold; and as Mr. Rappelle 
 placed me in Old Vivian's special armchair, first push- 
 ing it close beside the blaze, I shivered involuntarily. 
 He went back into the hall, and returning with an 
 overcoat motioned me to rise and put it on. I shrank 
 back as was but natural, I think, before this familiar- 
 ity expected of me; but when Mr. Rappelle, as if mis- 
 understanding my hesitation, said calmly, "The coat 
 is mine," I forced myself to yield. 
 
 He treated me as though I were an uninteresting 
 child for whom he was obliged to care ; and wrapping 
 the greatcoat well about me made me reseat myself 
 beside the fire, and placed my feet upon a footstool. 
 The air of tenderness had vanished ; he was evidently 
 about to get a disagreeable duty over as quickly as 
 possible. For the first time I looked well at the man 
 in whose hands lay my future weal or woe. 
 
 He had not seated himself, but leaned against the 
 corner of the great chimney, opposite me, and stared 
 down somewhat gloomily into the red heart of the 
 
 73
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 fire. He was of medium height, well set up, broad- 
 shouldered; his hair and eyes dark brown, the latter 
 long and very brilliant; the nose aquiline, lips thin; 
 a firm chin with a slight cleft in it. His face was 
 smooth-shaven, the skin a clear olive a very French 
 face. Such was Etienne Rappelle. As I looked up 
 at him he suddenly transferred his gaze from the fire 
 to me, and in his keen eyes I read contemptuous 
 pity! 
 
 I had fancied I had already felt the deepest misery 
 possible, but I had not; since contempt from a Rap- 
 pelle was something a Braithe could not be expected 
 even to imagine. In that short moment, while I en- 
 dured his scorn, I lived through a year of pain; for 
 by it I learned my own shortcomings, and saw myself 
 as I really was. Until then I had not known that I 
 was either vain or proud. His look taught me that I 
 had been had been, since his contempt gave both 
 their death blow vain of my beauty and proud of my 
 birth. I had fancied that because of these poor pos- 
 sessions Etienne Rappelle would at least have a certain 
 respect for me. That they were as nothing in his eyes 
 raised him still higher in my estimation, and made me 
 more miserable than I had been before, since I and 
 my sisters must be only a burden on his hands. 
 
 Without in the least realizing it I had, unconscious- 
 ly, taken it for granted that I should receive from him 
 the ready friendliness generally accorded me by all 
 whom I met. I had hoped I might not please him too 
 much it had never occurred to me he would not like 
 me at all. This discovery destroyed completely what 
 little wit remained to me; I lost my customary self- 
 poise, and was no longer capable of behaving toward 
 this stranger as toward others. 
 
 I glanced up involuntarily at the portrait of my 
 great-great-great-grandfather. How might he have 
 taken this defection on the part of a Rappelle? His 
 
 74
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 blue eyes looked coldly down into mine, a smile that 
 was a sneer was always upon the painted lips. His de- 
 scendant was but receiving her just due, I said to my- 
 self, as I sat erect in his great armchair the Leopards 
 holding between them the shield with its motto, Gare 
 Griff es, surmounting the high carved back growing 
 now hot, and now cold, as waves of shame for myself, 
 and remorse toward Mr. Rappelle, swept across me. 
 
 "I thought your famous opal was overrated," said 
 Mr. Rappelle the silence that had seemed unending 
 to me having in reality lasted only a moment- "but it 
 is, indeed, remarkably beautiful. Every color of the 
 rainbow seems fairly to flash across its surface blue, 
 green; ah, now it is crimson! A magnificent gem. 
 You are too warm? Let me help you off with that 
 coat no, I beg you will keep it around your shoul- 
 ders, so" arranging it as a cloak. "This room is as 
 damp as a vault, and your bright color has quite gone. 
 The opal, too, looks white curious ! Can it be true, 
 I wonder, that opals are in sympathy with " 
 
 He glanced from the gem to my face and back 
 again, studying both with as cold an interest as if they 
 were, both, but bits of stone. I sat quite still, endur- 
 ing, as best I might, his earnest scrutiny. 
 
 "Do you believe in superstitions, Theodora?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "By the way, are you called Theodora in the fam- 
 ily?" 
 
 "No, Mr. Rappelle." 
 
 "My name is Etienne," he said brusquely. "I beg 
 you will use it. What are you called, please?" 
 
 "Theo." 
 
 "Very well. I have asked you to grant me this in- 
 terview, Theo, in order to tell you what arrangements 
 I have made for you and your sisters during my ab- 
 sence. I shall be away but a few weeks. I regret the 
 necessity of going at all. You will, I trust, be ready
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 to leave Braithe by the end of this week, when you 
 will go to my house in town to await my return. You 
 will he very busy, of course, getting your trousseau," 
 a grim smile flickered about his thin lips, "since I gave 
 you no time in which to make the ordinary prepara- 
 tions for your wedding." He was silent a moment as, 
 from his position on the opposite side of the fire, lean- 
 ing lightly against the chimney-piece, he surveyed the 
 big, shabby room. Then he said, "Braithe House 
 needs a thorough going over. I made some plans on 
 my way here this morning, and Merle can see to their 
 being carried out. I won't have gas or electricity put 
 in ; lamps and candles suit the house better." 
 
 I was amazed at my odd feeling of relief that the se- 
 crets of the old house were not to be pried into by gas- 
 fitters or electricians. Then I said, "Yes," humbly, 
 thinking I was expected to say something. I felt 
 frightened and breathless; to obey unquestioningly 
 was new to me. But I saw that Mr. Rappelle hardly 
 noticed that I had spoken and wondered, until his 
 next words gave me the explanation needed. 
 
 "Hervey Merle is my valet, confidential man, fac- 
 totum, what you will; you must tell him what you 
 want and he'll take care of you. I shall, in fact, leave 
 you in his charge." 
 
 "Yes," I again murmured. 
 
 "Shortly before his death your father spoke to me 
 of you," Mr. Rappelle went on, his voice growing hard 
 and constrained, "and of your sister, Lilian. He told 
 me that you had led the lives of nuns, never seeing 
 anybody, going nowhere ; that, in short, you had been 
 denied all gayety, and were, consequently, unaccus- 
 tomed to society and its ways." 
 
 He evidently expected no answer, so I made none. 
 Indeed he seemed to think me a mindless creature, 
 with no ideas of my own and no will power. What he 
 said was as much to himself as to me, his conscience 
 
 76
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 evidently obliging him to go through with what he 
 considered his duty toward me. 
 
 "It is, of course, unfortunate," he continued, speak- 
 ing more and more stiffly, "that you have never seen 
 any," he hesitated, "any men. Our relations to- 
 ward each other are very peculiar, and may become, 
 for you, very trying; since I am conservative. I have 
 old-fashioned ideas." 
 
 He stopped short, and going to the window looked 
 out upon the river. He was having a hard time and, 
 though pitying, I could not help him. For how could 
 I tell him that my father had told a falsehood, in giv- 
 ing the impression that I had never seen any men? 
 That Mr. Rappelle thought there might be danger of 
 my losing my heart, and not to him, was evident; as 
 evident as that he thought me guileless through lack 
 of experience me, Theodora Braithe! His old-fash- 
 ioned ideas meant that I was to be very circumspect in 
 my behavior toward his friends, and I vowed to my- 
 self that I would be, as he returned to the fire and be- 
 gan to speak again. 
 
 "I have given Mr. Beecham to understand," he said 
 slowly, "that I fell in love with you at your father's 
 funeral. Those who see you will think this quite nat- 
 ural as, also, that I was proud to ally myself with a 
 Braithe. To the world we are to appear as man and 
 wife ; but it is my earnest desire that you should have 
 some years in which to enjoy yourself before before 
 settling down. I shall have plenty of people here this 
 summer with your approval, of course and you 
 will, I hope, have a little pleasure after your many 
 years of seclusion." 
 
 Here, I felt, was my opportunity to disabuse his 
 mind of false ideas in regard to my lack of experience. 
 To tell him that I was older than my years in sordid 
 worldly wisdom, and that I had been called a flirt. I 
 tried to speak, but failed. I could find neither voice 
 
 77
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 nor words. There came the sound of laughter from 
 the hall; the wedding guests were leaving the dining- 
 room. I thought that Mr. Rappelle had nothing more 
 to say, and rose from my chair, taking his coat off as 
 I did so. 
 
 "You have been very kind," I faltered, "and I 
 thank you. If you will make my excuses to to my 
 friends, I will not see them again to-day. I I am 
 rather tired." 
 
 He looked at me oddly. 
 
 "You must have your portrait painted in that 
 chair," he said, replacing the coat upon my shoulders 
 and buttoning me tightly into it, as though in silent 
 rebuke of my carelessness in regard to catching cold. 
 "The wine-colored velvet of its covering suits you. It 
 must be renewed in the same shade. And that re- 
 minds me" he put his hand in his breast pocket, 
 brought out a small jewel box, and from it took a ring. 
 "This is your engagement ring allow me." 
 
 He lifted my left hand, a hand frost-bitten and 
 roughened by housework, quite unfit for the wearing 
 of jewels, and slipped a splendid ruby, set in dia- 
 monds, upon my finger. It covered the plain gold 
 ring already placed there, hiding it out of sight. He 
 held my hand a moment longer than was necessary. 
 Was he looking at it or only at the ruby? Was he 
 mortified by the signs of labor on the hand of his wife ? 
 
 "Theo," he said as he released me his voice had 
 grown very gentle "I hope you will like my choice. 
 I think rubies suit you, but if you would prefer some- 
 thing else " 
 
 "No, no," I said, hastily, "nothing could be more 
 beautiful." 
 
 "I am glad if it really pleases you," he said. "A 
 girl should like her betrothal ring. Yours is given 
 you under very strange circumstances. As I told you 
 a moment ago, I am old-fashioned. It is my belief 
 
 78
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 that men and women should marry for love only. I 
 do not believe in divorce. No one, if I can prevent it, 
 shall know the conditions of our marriage. I must 
 beg you to help me in this by writing to me often dur- 
 ing my absence ; and when I return, by treating me 
 in public as if you liked me a little. Now I will take 
 you upstairs." 
 
 He went to the bookcase, pressed the secret spring 
 as if he had done so a hundred times before and 
 motioned me to pass before him into the little room be- 
 yond. 
 
 I looked at him in astonishment, wondering that he 
 knew this secret of the House. He read and an- 
 swered the question in my eyes. 
 
 "You forget that my grandparents were your ser- 
 vants" his voice was coldly scornful "it was neces- 
 sary that they should know the way into the private 
 rooms of their masters." He turned from me and 
 glanced about the narrow room. "This will be my 
 bedroom," he said briefly, and signed to me to go up- 
 stairs. At the top of the spiral stairway he said, as if 
 to himself, "Ah, yes! the dressing-room," and, press- 
 ing the spring in the wainscot, stood aside while I en- 
 tered Lydia's apartment. 
 
 It was dark and gloomy, the shutters being closed. 
 Mr. Rappelle opened those of the east window and 
 examined the room with his keen, decisive glance 
 he seemed to see every detail in one swift scrutiny 
 then he looked at me, as I stood waiting his pleasure, 
 and said, as if to himself, "In roses, velvety red roses, 
 on white silk. The furniture pleases you, Theo? 
 This is to be your room, of course, so if you prefer to 
 have it modernized pray say so." 
 
 But I did not wish it changed ; it had been my moth- 
 er's room and Lydia's. I liked its old mahogany. I 
 turned toward the door leading into the hall, but Mr. 
 Rappelle, saying, "You will wish to go to your room," 
 
 79
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 opened that communicating with my bedroom, and 
 standing aside for me to enter, asked permission to 
 follow. 
 
 The room was in great confusion, a distress the more 
 to me since my companion looked about him with un- 
 embarrassed interest. 
 
 "This will be your boudoir," he said decidedly, roll- 
 ing an easy-chair before the fire and signing to me to 
 sit down. "Pink roses here" he glanced at me 
 "soft pink roses on a creamy background. Yes, that 
 will do very well. Ah !" stepping to the dressing-table, 
 where the flowers still lay in their open boxes no- 
 body had had time to put them in water and the 
 cases containing the diamonds were piled in a careless 
 heap. "I fear I made but a poor choice, but I had little 
 time in which to choose. The ring, the ruby ring, 
 concerned me most." 
 
 I murmured a few stupid words in thanks. Mr. 
 Rappelle, paying no apparent heed, brought me a 
 handful of red roses. 
 
 "Please give me one," he said, and laid them on my 
 lap. "No, on second thoughts, three." 
 
 I looked up at him, intending to ask him to choose 
 for himself; then moved by a sudden impulse, I se- 
 lected the three. A bud, a half-blown rose, and the 
 perfect flower. As I gave them to him Mr. Rappelle 
 smiled such a kind, well-pleased smile. My cheeks 
 flushed painfully. 
 
 "Thank you," he said slowly. "I believe in omens. 
 Ah! I was forgetting that you do not." 
 
 His expression changed back into its former cold- 
 ness, the kind look in his brilliant eyes died away. He 
 put the flowers carefully, however, into a pocket of 
 the coat I had at last been allowed to take off, and I 
 knew quite well that they would not be crushed. 
 Etienne Rappelle evidently looked after his own 
 well. 
 
 80
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Going again to the dressing-table he placed upon it a 
 handsome purse and an envelope. 
 
 "You will need what is here," he said, for the first 
 time showing embarrassment, "and, probably, much 
 more. Merle will keep you supplied. And I must 
 beg," raising his hand to silence the protest on my 
 lips, "that you will get for yourself and your sisters 
 everything that you need. Remember, Theo" 
 a grim smile played about his thin lips "that I lose 
 or gain credit according as you appear so pray shine. 
 
 You will find there a letter of introduction to ," 
 
 he named a celebrated surgeon. "He is a personal 
 friend of mine. I hope he may be able to do some- 
 thing for the poor little child." 
 
 I tried to speak, but could not for the tears, for the 
 emotion that choked me. 
 
 "Good-by, Theo," he stood close beside me, and he 
 spoke very gently. "Don't rise, I beg. I will write 
 to you from town to-night. Tell Merle just what you 
 want. Good-by!" 
 
 The door closed; he was gone. 
 
 81
 
 IX 
 
 I sat quite still, staring through my tears at the 
 roses on my lap ; but for them I should have thought 
 the events of the morning a dream, and a wild one. 
 The rich fragrance of these red, red roses filled the 
 room, bringing thoughts of summer sunshine and 
 drowsy warmth, of birds, butterflies, and bees; of our 
 old-fashioned garden, with its sun-dial saying ever: 
 
 "I count life by sunny hours and them alone." 
 Would the coming summer bring sunny hours to little 
 Jane and me? 
 
 A sudden rattle of hail against the window, hail 
 driven so fiercely by the angry wind gusts that it 
 sounded like shot, and threatened to break the panes, 
 roused me to a sense of what was going on in Braithe. 
 The room had grown quite gloomy, the steely hail- 
 cloud darkening the sky. As I dried my eyes and 
 looked about me the front door shut heavily, and a 
 carriage rolled down the avenue. 
 
 A moment later Lilian whirled into the room. She 
 was in high spirits, but scolded a little over her er- 
 rand as she ran hither and thither. 
 
 "The Lord High Cheesemonger's gone at last, 
 Theo," she said, "but he left orders in plenty behind 
 him where are Mrs. Strong's gloves? Oh, never 
 mind, I've found them. Yes, I'm sent to get her things 
 because you, milady, are not to be disturbed. The way 
 that man slings on style beats all! 'Mrs. Rappelle,' 
 quoth he," she tried to make her voice pompous and 
 commanding, " 'begs me to excuse her to her friends' 
 
 82
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 friends, indeed, Gills, Strongs, and strangers! 
 'Mrs. Rappelle' he's bursting with pride over the 
 match he's made, and no wonder 'Mrs. Rappelle is 
 tired and I think she had better rest.' Then he sends 
 me to fetch and carry for Mrs. Strong! He's got sand 
 enough, but old bachelors always have. Not that he's 
 old in his own estimation I suppose he feels he's 
 o'er young to marry yet, seeing all the other Rap- 
 pelles waited to do it till they were octogenarians. 
 Theo!" she paused beside me frowning, suspicious, 
 "What are you doing, what have you been doing with 
 those roses ? Have you begun flirting with that that 
 grocer already?" 
 
 "No, Lilian," I said very sadly, "and I wonder that 
 you can have the heart to ask me such a question." 
 
 "Then what are you doing with them?" she per- 
 sisted. I blushed hotly. I was glad she did not know 
 where three had gone. "There," she exclaimed, 
 "your cheeks are scarlet ! You have been posing with 
 them, amusing yourself turning that fool's head. 
 Well, he's gone for a few weeks at least, but I'm dis- 
 gusted with you," and she swept from the room. 
 
 I rose hastily, anxious to be rid of the flowers, re- 
 membering, with a pang of shame, the odd selection I 
 had made when choosing the three. What had pos- 
 sessed me ? Must I ever, because of the Braithe taint 
 in my veins, strive to please, even unconsciously? For 
 I had had no conscious desire to say anything to 
 Mr. Rappelle through the roses. My conscience ac- 
 quitted me, yet I hurried the flowers into water 
 and placed them on a far away table, my cheeks as 
 red as they. 
 
 How good Mr. Rappelle had proved himself, how 
 generous! My heart ached, fairly, with gratitude. 
 He gave everything, asked nothing. I must strive to 
 forget the scorn in his eyes, to remember always that 
 it was deserved. How might an honorable man feel 
 
 83
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 otherwise toward a woman who had willingly sold her- 
 self for money? I must learn to live without his re- 
 spect and, harder still, without my own. 
 
 Thus thinking I chanced to glance at the pictures 
 nearest me: those of my father and Herbert Payne. 
 A sudden longing to see once more my old playfellow 
 took possession of me, and, taking his photograph from 
 its place, I carried it to the window and looked long at 
 the handsome face of my boy cousin. I wished he had 
 been with me that morning, had given me away; his 
 right, surely, as my nearest relative. As I gazed mus- 
 ingly at the picture I forgot, for the moment, all 
 his faults of character that had, as a child, grated upon 
 me, remembering, instead, only the sunny tempera- 
 ment, the readiness to please and to be pleased the 
 easy-going unconsciousness of the failings of others. 
 I did not say to myself, as always hitherto, that he was 
 incapable of recognizing moral lapses in his compan- 
 ions, because he himself was without sense of moral 
 obligation. No, I simply longed for his easy presence. 
 He had never judged me; had he been with me he 
 would have told me all had been well done, that all 
 must come right in the end. For if Herbert had 
 sometimes teased, he had always petted me when I 
 thought I had done wrong. Why I fancied that 
 though never able to quiet my child's conscience, he 
 might now set my grown-up one at ease, I do not un- 
 derstand. My mind indulged in strange vagaries on 
 that changeful March day. 
 
 A plaintive whine outside my door caused me to 
 hang up my cousin's picture hastily and run to let in 
 the Chevalier. He entered slowly, not looking at me, 
 stepping warily, legs stiffened as if treading upon very 
 breakable eggs, and going to the corner of the room 
 where he was obliged to do penance for his sins 
 called by Jane the Corner of Punishment sat him- 
 self down gingerly, squeezed himself as tight against 
 
 84
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 the wall as possible, and then allowed himself one fur- 
 tive glance at me. 
 
 I knew at once that he, too, had been forbidden to 
 disturb "Mrs. Rappelle." Lilian, glad in her turn to 
 give orders, had probably told Jane sharply to keep 
 "that tiresome beast away from poor Theo." 
 
 "Good Chevalier!" I said tenderly, sitting down 
 again in the chair by the fire. "Good Charles Stuart 
 to come to his Theo; he knew she wanted him." 
 
 Ah, my collie, my Chevalier my true-hearted 
 friend ! In an instant he had bounded from his corner 
 and, whimpering with pleasure, had laid his paws 
 upon the arm of my chair and his beautiful head 
 against my breast. Poor fellow! He was almost 
 plethoric with overgorging at my wedding feast (a 
 feast he would have died rather than have touched 
 had he known what it meant to me) and no sooner was 
 he sure that I approved his coming, than he settled 
 himself upon the hearth-rug with a grunt of satisfac- 
 tion, and snored profoundly. 
 
 There came another sound outside my door, the 
 gentle tinkle of glasses, then a timid knock. It was 
 Hervey Merle who entered, in answer to my "Come 
 in" ; Hervey Merle bearing a tray covered with a dainty 
 array of dishes and a bottle of wine. He wheeled a 
 table to my side, set the tray upon it, then, rescuing 
 the roses from their distant corner, placed them near 
 the tray. The Chevalier, roused from his nap, blinked 
 lazily at the stranger and the viands, already too ac- 
 customed to both, by one short day's experience, to 
 heed either. 
 
 "I told the young ladies, Mrs. Rappelle, that you 
 would take some refreshment while alone. Better a 
 dish of herbs, and peace and wine therewith, than a 
 stale ox served half raw. Try this chicken-and-lettuce 
 sandwich, dear lady; I made it myself; you ate no 
 luncheon." 
 
 85
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 So saying Hervey Merle spread a napkin deftly 
 across my lap, filled a glass with port something told 
 me it had been brought from town by Mr. Rappelle 
 for Janey and handed it to me with a low bow. 
 
 It was new to me to be cared for and waited upon ; 
 new, and very pleasant. I looked with some curiosity 
 at Hervey Merle. He was small, but appeared strong 
 a wiry little man, with sandy hair parted so much 
 to one side that it rose high on top of his head, like the 
 ridiculous fat curl worn there by little boys in faded 
 daguerreotypes. His small deep set gray eyes looked 
 keenly out from beneath bushy eyebrows, his features 
 were insignificant, his cheeks as fresh-colored as a 
 winter apple. 
 
 As I glanced at him he smiled his deprecatory 
 smile, his head a little to one side, as if hoping he had 
 pleased me, but doubtful. 
 
 "You have made me so comfortable, Hervey," I 
 said. "lam to call you Hervey?" He bowed. "You 
 must let me thank you." His color rose high. "Mr. 
 Rappelle tells me you are to remain with me; I am 
 very glad, for I am sure I shall like you." He laid 
 his hand on his heart, bowing again and again. 
 
 "If I may be allowed to heat bricks," he murmured, 
 "and put them in the beds? You can't make a silk 
 purse out of worn-out cloth still hot bricks " 
 
 "Pray do; Miss Janey loves to be warm and you, 
 Hervey," suddenly remembering the servantless con- 
 dition of the house. Where was he to sleep? I put 
 down the wine I was comfortably sipping, and rose 
 to my feet, disgusted by my selfishness, "I will see 
 about a room for you at once, Hervey," I said. "I 
 should have thought of it before." 
 
 "You to think of me!" exclaimed the little man, 
 in an apparent rapture of gratitude. "Of me ! When 
 a blanket before the parlor fire! Of me and her 
 wedding day!" 
 
 86
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 I was back in my chair, the glass of wine again in 
 my hand, before I well knew what had happened. 
 
 "The sun sets," said my strange servitor. "I will 
 bring a lamp. For you, sir," to the Chevalier, "there 
 is a bone downstairs." And he went away; but 
 Charles Stuart, for the first time in his life, was too 
 full for bones. 
 
 "Isn't Hervey queer?" said Janey, later, "but I 
 like him. What do you suppose he said when he 
 got supper for us? 'Funeral baked meats, even 
 when cold, are tastier sometimes than a wedding 
 feast." 
 
 "I wish it hadn't hailed," said Lilian, fretfully; 
 "dubious morning, and short hail shower! Well, the 
 afternoon has been bright, and it's a glorious night; it 
 might have been worse, I suppose. That idiot, Abel 
 Wylde, spilled coffee on my gown! Not that it mat- 
 ters now," superbly; "I shall give the old dud to the 
 poor." 
 
 "I wish poor Jim might have been with us this 
 morning," I said, musingly, "and Herbert Fayne." 
 
 "Theo!" exclaimed Lilian, in disgust, "what horrid 
 people you care for. That common Jim Wylde! 
 Why, I hated him even when I was a child, and they 
 say he's as bad as he can be." 
 
 "I wish he'd come home," I sighed. I did not care 
 to tell Lilian how often the name of my old playmate 
 rose to my lips in prayer. If only he would turn over 
 a new leaf! He had been good and generous-hearted 
 as a boy. 
 
 "Herbert, too," continued Lilian. "Of all disagree- 
 able people! What did you want him for, pray?" 
 
 "He ought to have given me away, Lilian." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because he's our nearest male relative," I said. 
 
 "Yes, he's a Braithe all through," said Lilian, spite- 
 fully, "as far as Braithe vices go. Theo! do you know 
 
 87
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 I believe he's no Fayne at all, but just a Braithe; he's 
 the image of Old Vivian." 
 
 "What do you mean?" I asked, astonished by her 
 strange words, but Lilian paid no heed. 
 
 "His mother was father's sister, and just like him, 
 so, of course, no morals at all, and Uncle Fayne was as 
 ugly as sin, and lost his money before they'd been 
 married a year. Dear me, what an idiot I've been not 
 to understand before, when I've heard often enough 
 how that handsome second cousin of father's, Herbert 
 Braithe, shot himself after she died. Herbert Braithe 
 Fayne ! Very appropriate, to be sure." 
 
 I cried out aghast at these strange, these evil imag- 
 inings on my sister's part, but she waved my remon- 
 strances aside, telling me to think as I pleased, and let 
 her alone. Then she asked what Mr. Rappelle had 
 said to me in the library. When she heard she was 
 very much pleased. 
 
 "So he thinks you a kind of simpleton, does he?" 
 she commented. "Then you act up to it, Theo; that 
 will keep him at arm's length better than anything 
 else. And father said we were like nuns!" she laughed 
 sweetly. "Bless his lying old tongue so he filled the 
 grocer's eyes with dust! Well, you must keep them 
 full, Theo, and do your flirting on the sly (for flirt you 
 will when the chance comes, it's in the blood), for if 
 you do it in the open he'll divorce you, sure as shoot- 
 ing. Now don't blaze out with your religious non- 
 sense about not believing in divorce! What'll you 
 have to say about it, pray? And if you mash him 
 there'll be the same result, for then he'll be forever 
 hanging 'round, and, sooner or later, catch you amus- 
 ing yourself. There'll be rows from morning till 
 night then, and the divorce court to end up with. Now 
 that we've got the Rappelle money, do, for Heaven's 
 sake, behave yourself so that we can keep it in the 
 family where it has always belonged." 
 
 88
 
 For a time after my marriage I felt as though living 
 in a dream. We went to town to Mr. Rappelle's fine 
 house, and began to spend a very great deal of money. 
 Lilian took to luxury and extravagance naturally, but 
 they frightened me. Accustomed all my life to the 
 practise of the most rigid economy, I felt it wicked to 
 throw away in a week what would, in old times, have 
 made us comfortable for a year. The price of our new 
 gowns worried me, and Lilian bought many. To her 
 delight Mr. Rappelle had asked me to make my mourn- 
 ing as light as possible, and she, saying she must do 
 the same, wore black lace frocks and silks of pale lilac, 
 most becoming to her fair beauty. She had a maid, 
 and kept her busy. This Hervey had suggested. 
 
 "Lilian's changed her spots," remarked Janey one 
 morning, when Lilian was starting on one of her end- 
 less shopping excursions. "But she always said she 
 would be neat if she were rich and saw people." 
 
 Hervey had come in to ask my orders for the day. 
 "New brooms sweep well for a time, of course," he 
 said absently, then added, "but, as you were thinking, 
 Mrs. Rappelle, it is high time I engaged a maid for 
 Miss Lilian. I'll do so at once." 
 
 Hervey was manager during Mr. Rappelle's ab- 
 sence, and always assumed that what he wished done 
 I had already ordered. I did not approve of the ex- 
 pense of a maid, but my objections were apparently 
 unheard by him, for one appeared, to wait upon Lilian, 
 the next day. 
 
 Mr. Rappelle was away but a few short weeks; when 
 89
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 he returned I saw little of him, rarely meeting him 
 save at meals, and never being alone with him but 
 when driving in the park. Lilian insisted that I 
 should endeavor to appear as the quiet, nun-like coun- 
 try girl my father had described me, and although I 
 could not agree with her as to the fatal effect of my 
 conversational charms, I felt so shy and ill at ease with 
 Mr. Rappelle that the role required no acting. 
 Tongue-tied, sad-hearted, I sat at the head of his table 
 when we had no guests; and, when not alone, Lilian 
 kept so sharp a watch upon me fearing lest my spirits 
 might rise and I betray my real nature that embar- 
 rassment held me dumb. 
 
 My only relaxation was when in the studio of Mon- 
 sieur Randoce, an amateur portrait painter whose tal- 
 ent Mr. Rappelle admired greatly. This handsome 
 Frenchman had asked permission to paint my portrait, 
 and Mr. Rappelle, delighted, had consented without 
 even consulting me. 
 
 Accompanied by Lilian's maid or Hervey, I went 
 almost daily to sit for Monsieur Randoce, and, seeing 
 that he was a seasoned society man, accustomed to gay 
 society chatter, I let myself go, and laughed and talked 
 to my heart's content. This was a great relief; though 
 I paid for my amusement when he came to dine, and 
 I had to resume my silent role. 
 
 After these occasions Lilian spoke to me, more than 
 once, upon the necessity of keeping to my part. Her 
 words were vulgar, but her voice, always high-bred and 
 melodious, made them sound a trifle less brutal than 
 they really were. Janey was present during one of 
 these lectures, to my deep regret. 
 
 "I wish Etienne would go back to Europe and stay 
 there," Lilian began, "for you're beginning to weaken. 
 Anyone can see that you're dying to mash him, and 
 there will be the dickens to pay if you do." 
 
 "Lilian!" I exclaimed, indignant. 
 90
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 "You needn't lose your temper and play innocent 
 to me," she went on. "You've always flirted like fury 
 whenever you got a chance, just as you're now doing 
 with Randoce. Mash the grocer's son and see what'll 
 happen; you can't expect him to have fine feelings, 
 like us Braithes. He probably thinks you're nothing 
 but his squaw, and well, just you watch out." 
 
 "I hate you, Lilian!" cried Janey, stamping her 
 small foot. "Poor Theo, turning all colors of the rain- 
 bow! You imagine fine feathers are everything 
 daw, with peacock's plumes. But you're common, yes, 
 common and and low!" 
 
 "Hush, little Jane," I said, distressed by the 
 turn the conversation had taken, "and, Lilian, you 
 need not be alarmed ; Mr. Rappelle dislikes me very 
 much." 
 
 I could not but regret this, although I knew it was 
 for the best. To Lilian Mr. Rappelle was always the 
 attentive host; to my Janey the most tender and de- 
 voted of brothers. When in public, he treated me 
 with the eager courtesy of a bridegroom, but at other 
 times with only the cold politeness due to my sex. 
 And I, I was afraid of him. I dreaded being alone 
 with him, since then the old scornful pity shone in his 
 long, dark eyes, and galled me. 
 
 "I wish you'd mind and not open your head when 
 he's around," Lilian continued. "You were on the 
 verge of doing it last night when Randoce was here. 
 I'll do the talking. Don't you even look at Rappelle. 
 Do the Simple Susan act, and, for Heaven's sake, don't 
 indulge in laughing. If only that hateful old Hervey 
 don't give you dead away and bust the whole business! 
 You're always gabbling and giggling with him, turn- 
 ing the old idiot's head. I understand liking to flirt, 
 Theo given a suitable flirtee, like Randoce, for in- 
 stance, and there's nothing like it, of course but the 
 way you trouble to lay out everybody, beats me. 
 
 91
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 Yes, everybody and everything! Men, women, chil- 
 dren, dogs, horses, cats all's fish comes to your net, 
 and into it they must go!" 
 
 Janey had, to my relief, left the room. 
 
 Ah me! All the Rappelle wealth might not free 
 my little sister from the chains of pain that bound her. 
 The best doctors had been consulted in vain; they 
 could help, but to cure was impossible. My sole 
 comfort lay in the knowledge that she had every 
 luxury ; a good maid, trained to nursing, to wait 
 upon her, and a carriage to take her daily into the 
 open air. 
 
 Mr. Rappelle was very generous to us, grudging us 
 nothing that money could buy; too generous, I 
 thought, and one day, finding myself alone with him, 
 I said so. 
 
 "You are not extravagant, but the reverse," he 
 said, looking at me coldly. "When money was in my 
 part of the marriage contract, why do you hesitate to 
 spend?" 
 
 "I have spent a great deal," I said. 
 
 "You don't show for it, then." 
 
 "What do you mean?" I asked, startled. 
 
 "You wear that thing," pointing at my dinner gown 
 of black satin, "one night, and a ruifly black one the 
 next. If you have such a superabundance of toilets 
 why don't you wear them?" 
 
 I was silent, not wishing to say where the money 
 had gone. 
 
 "Clothes are not everything," I faltered. 
 
 "They happen to be in this instance. Don't you 
 care for dress, Theo?" 
 
 "Yes, I am fond of pretty things." I wished very 
 much that I had held my tongue on the money ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "I know what has gone for charity" I looked at 
 him in astonishment; how was this possible? "but 
 
 92
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 what I wish to know is will you kindly inform me 
 how many frocks you possess?" 
 
 "Oh," I said, evasively, "a good many." 
 
 "Evening dresses," he persisted, "how many, besides 
 these two familiar friends?" 
 
 I remained silent. 
 
 "Oblige me by answering." 
 
 "I have these two," I said desperately. If this sort 
 of thing kept on I felt I might end by detesting Mr. 
 Rappelle. 
 
 "There is no reason why Mrs. Rappelle's sister 
 should not adorn herself," said this strange man, "but 
 Mrs. Rappelle need not play the part of eiderdown 
 duck, in order to provide her with the raiment her 
 soul loves. Let Lilian revel in finery if she pleases, 
 but henceforth I must beg my wife to see that Lilian 
 does not outshine her." 
 
 So he knew that the heavy dressmakers' bills were 
 really Lilian's! Well, it was kind of him not to object. 
 I said so. 
 
 "You are very generous, Etienne" ; and my long 
 tongue running away with me, I added, "you give 
 everything and receive " I hesitated, faltered, be- 
 came silent. 
 
 "Nothing, you were about to say, Theo?" he smiled 
 grimly. "I think you forget the honor of the con- 
 nection. To the husband of the beautiful Miss Braithe 
 of Braithe Manor the world has nothing left to 
 offer." 
 
 I turned and left the room without a word, driven 
 by the stones of his scorn. It was natural, I said to 
 myself, as I tried to check my tears, quite natural that 
 an honorable man should despise a woman who had 
 consented to marry a stranger for money, but was 
 it kind to let her see the contempt in which he held 
 her, so plainly? Then I reminded myself how tire- 
 some I had been when with him; never trying to show 
 
 93
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 my gratitude by striving to be agreeable. No wonder 
 he was irritable, he was convinced that he had married 
 a fool. I could not thoroughly enjoy the success of 
 my own acting; I disliked very much being thought 
 foolish.
 
 XI 
 
 We returned to Braithe late in May. Lilian tried 
 to persuade Mr. Rappelle to postpone our home- 
 coming until June, but in vain. She prophesied much 
 evil from this foolish choice of what she believed to 
 be an unlucky month. Her discomfort vanished, how- 
 ever, when, on our arrival in Hilltown one lovely May 
 afternoon, she found a barouche drawn by four horses, 
 in waiting to carry us home. The deep rose-pink 
 stained her cheeks and, in her excitement, forgetting 
 her usually pretty company manners, she pushed past 
 me in order to enter the carriage at once. Mr. Rap- 
 pelle laid a detaining hand upon her arm. 
 
 "Theo first, Lilian," he said quietly, and helped 
 me in. 
 
 "O Etienne, forgive me!" she cried, paling never- 
 theless with displeasure. She was very angry. 
 
 Janey, in high feather, occupied the box with Mr. 
 Rappelle, who drove. The grooms clambered on their 
 seat behind us as we dashed up the hill. 
 
 "Such bad form!" ejaculated Lilian. "No real gen- 
 tleman would think of driving himself in a barouche. 
 I should think the men would fall off that nasty little 
 seat behind the hood. A gentleman considers the com- 
 fort of his dependents, but what can one expect of a 
 parvenu?" 
 
 "I wish you would remember that you are speak- 
 ing to his wife," I said, ruffled by her words. "Etienne 
 had this carriage so that Janey might lie down on the 
 back seat, if tired by the journey, and four horses to 
 get her home quickly." 
 
 95
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "Sweet sensibility O La!" she quoted, "I heard a 
 little lamb cry baa " 
 
 We had turned into the main street and I cut Lilian 
 short by calling to Etienne to stop. I had caught sight 
 of Mrs. Strong, walking comfortably homeward. Her 
 kind face flushed with pleasure as, the carriage draw- 
 ing up, I sprang out and caught her hands in mine. 
 It seemed years since I had seen her, and I laughed 
 as I kissed her cheek, having much difficulty in re- 
 straining my tears; each day they came more easily. 
 Mr. Rappelle, lifting Janey from her high seat, joined 
 us, greeting Mrs. Strong with cordial respect, and 
 Lilian, seeing friendliness was the fashion, followed 
 suit. 
 
 "How well you all look!" exclaimed the kindly 
 simple soul, beaming upon us. "And, dear me, how 
 fashionable ! JSTow I get a better look at you, Theo, 
 I think you've grown thin. Too much town amuse- 
 ment, is that it, spinning street-yarn all day ? Yes, 
 you certainly are very thin. Well, country air 
 will soon brace you up. Make her drink milk, Mr. 
 EappeUe." 
 
 "May I come and see you soon?" I asked. Etienne 
 was scrutinizing me closely. I wished that she had not 
 commented upon my appearance. 
 
 "The sooner the better, my dear," was the hearty 
 answer. "Come early, before ten o'clock. Doctor 
 will want to see you. Dear me, I believe he thinks 
 the sun rises and sets with Theo Braithe! And he's 
 been in the dark some time now; ever since you went 
 away." And laughing delightedly over her own wit 
 she walked briskly away. 
 
 "Vulgar old thing!" grumbled Lilian, as we rolled 
 rapidly northward. "I did hope we were done with 
 common people! Shall I ever forget your wedding 
 and the ceaseless twaddle of her and Mrs. Gill? But 
 you like vulgarians, Theo." 
 
 96
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 As we drew near Braithe my heart began to beat to 
 suffocation. I had not realized how many, and varying 
 emotions, my return to the old house would awaken. 
 A cry of delight from Janey told me when we turned 
 into the avenue, for again the troublesome tears were 
 blurring my vision. The stone pillars, just beyond the 
 little bridge, were wreathed with flowers in our honor. 
 We dashed on, up the hill and between the long lines 
 of locust trees; the Leopards grinned at us through 
 garlands of wisteria and lilac blossoms. We were 
 at home. 
 
 At the foot of the long flight of stone steps stood 
 Hervey Merle. Ignoring everyone save me, he offered 
 a huge bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley, bowing low. 
 
 "Welcome home, dear madam," he said gravely, 
 "for home is where the head must seek its pillow; and 
 be it ever so humble there's generally no place else 
 to go. May I be permitted to show you to your room?" 
 
 "No," said Mr. Rappelle, suddenly appearing beside 
 me, "I will attend to Mrs. Rappelle." 
 
 We entered the large central hall together. It was 
 no longer gloomy, the skylight having been greatly 
 enlarged. I expressed my approval warmly; at least 
 I might be lavish in praise. 
 
 "Yes, it is an improvement," said Etienne. He 
 spoke without enthusiasm. "You can see now to read 
 that old motto over the chimney. Have you any idea 
 what it means?" 
 
 "My little mother knew," said Janey, pushing in 
 between us ; and taking mv hand in one of hers she 
 slipped the other into Etienne's. "She said when 
 Faith, meaning a woman, you know, and Honor, that 
 means a man, plight trouthe isn't it spelled funny? 
 become engaged, that is, everything here will be 
 all right. Mummy thought it certainly would, some 
 day, come to pass. I wish it would; soot means sweet, 
 Etienne, did you know that?" 
 
 97
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Yes, Janey," said Etienne gravely, and the child 
 leaving us I was led upstairs. 
 
 "I have had your old room turned into a boudoir," 
 said Mr. Rappelle, opening the door for me to enter. 
 "I hope you may like it." 
 
 The dingy room was transformed; it had become 
 a dainty bower. I expressed my admiration. 
 
 "I notice that you rarely wear your diamonds," 
 he continued, "perhaps these pearls may please you 
 better," motioning toward a jewel box, beautifully 
 inlaid, that lay upon the toilet-table. 
 
 I had been far from happy before, but the long rope 
 of splendid pearls this box contained filled my cup to 
 the brim. I had difficulty in thanking the giver prop- 
 erly. 
 
 "Now I think of it, Theo, your diamonds are set in 
 gold; they ought to be in silver, seeing you are in 
 mourning. I will have them reset. Stupid of me 
 not to have had them done so in the first place ! Is that 
 the reason the opal never appears; is it too gay?" 
 
 "Yes," I said; then summoning up my courage, 
 "Please don't give me any more, Etienne." 
 
 "Any more what?" 
 
 "Jewels; I have so many already." My collection 
 was very large; Etienne added to it constantly. 
 
 "I am sorry if you don't like your pearls," he said 
 coolly, "but I must ask you to let me see them often." 
 
 Before I had time to say how much I admired them 
 this truthfully, for they were beautiful he flung 
 wide the door leading into what had been Lydia's 
 room. I hardly recognized the heavy mahogany furni- 
 ture against its new background of rose-strewn hang- 
 ings. 
 
 "I like roses, as you see," said Etienne, "and I 
 trust my arrangement of your rooms may meet with 
 your approval." 
 
 He ceased speaking and waited, expectant. I 
 98
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 made an effort to voice my appreciation cordially, but 
 his expression told me I had failed. 
 
 "Do you like milk?" he asked suddenly. 
 
 "What, Etienne ?" Was I going crazy or he ? 
 
 He repeated his question, and he looked cross. 
 
 "Why yes," I faltered. 
 
 "Then in Heaven's name drink it. That woman 
 said you needed it. Is it because I pay for the food 
 that you are starving yourself? Really, Theo, you 
 are enough to drive a man mad!" 
 
 I quite agreed with him, so held my tongue. 
 
 "There, I beg your pardon," he said fiercely. "I 
 have been rude; I am sorry." 
 
 "Oh, not at all," I answered lamely, being, as Jane 
 would have said, completely off my head. 
 
 The next moment he had left the room, unable, I 
 fancied, to endure my idiocy longer. 
 
 I returned to my new boudoir, rebelling against 
 fate. The sight of the pearls on the dressing-table 
 made my heart sick. During the few hours given me 
 for thought, before my marriage, I had failed to take 
 into consideration the luxury I should myself have to 
 accept. Janey needed all that wealth could give, I 
 had told myself, and poor Lilian was utterly unfitted 
 by nature for earning her bread. Of my share, my 
 personal share of the Rappelle millions, I had, stupidly, 
 failed to think. It had descended upon my shoulders 
 heavily, a weight both day and night; driving peace 
 from my soul and sleep from my pillow; making tears 
 come more readily than laughter. 
 
 An intense desire to escape, if only for a few mo- 
 ments, took possession of me. Ah, thank Heaven, I 
 might take refuge in the Cell of Flagellation; that, 
 at least, must be bare of adornment, free of the Rap- 
 pelle gold. I touched the secret spring, the panel slid 
 aside I did not enter. 
 
 The rough stones of the floor were hidden by an 
 99
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 oriental rug, soft-colored, velvety; on the opposite wall 
 hung an ivory cross, richly carved; beneath it a prie- 
 dieu, furnished with embroidered velvet cushions; on 
 the hand-rest a prayer book, with cover of ivory and 
 clasps of silver. As I stood staring at this destruction 
 of my only refuge there came a tap at the door. It 
 was Hervey Merle. He looked wistful and dejected. 
 
 Sorry for the disappointment he had had in not 
 being permitted to show me the changes wrought, I 
 invited him to enter. 
 
 "See, Hervey," I said, taking up his bouquet, that 
 lay, forgotten, beside the pearls, "I have been too busy 
 looking at all the pretty new things to put these in 
 water." 
 
 "The oratory, Mrs. Rappelle," glancing into the 
 cell "it pleases?" 
 
 "It is your doing, Hervey?" 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Kappelle." 
 
 "You have shown great taste," I said gently. The 
 thing was done, why make the kind little man mis- 
 erable ? 
 
 "Nymph in thine orations, which in cold weather, 
 Mrs. Kappelle, if long, a little oil-stove it looks like 
 silver, carved, matching the clasps of the book, and 
 being silvery, subdued, more fitting to religious pur- 
 poses than gold Mrs. Rappelle?" 
 
 "Yes, Hervey." 
 
 He hesitated, looked miserable, then said: 
 
 "Speech is silver, of course, but silence, when you 
 don't want to tell, is above rubies and she was home- 
 sick for the mountains, 'My heart's in the Highlands,' 
 and in her work, too, they tell me, excellent references 
 Mrs. Rappelle, give a dog a bad name and every boy 
 throws the first stone still you didn't want one, Mr. 
 Rappelle, he insisted damned considerable, begging 
 your pardon, when he heard Miss Lilian had and you 
 hadn't. Let sleeping dogs sleep on, but she's Swiss, 
 
 100
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Mrs. Rappelle, name Josette, she's coming now, I 
 think " 
 
 A sweet-faced maid stood in the doorway. I under- 
 stood Hervey's rambling speech. I preferred waiting 
 upon myself, still 
 
 "Come in, Josette," I said, "you are just in time 
 to help me dress for dinner." Then, aside to Hervey, 
 pale and ill at ease, "I am not displeased, Hervey. 
 What a nice, modest-looking girl! I know I shall 
 like her." 
 
 "Dear lady " poor Hervey commenced, but un- 
 able to get further, went hastily out of the room. 
 
 Anxious to avoid Etienne's displeasure I made a 
 grand toilet, wearing, as its finishing touch, the new 
 pearls. Hervey's lilies adorned hair and corsage. 
 
 "Pearls!" exclaimed Lilian, whom I found alone 
 in the drawing-room. "What perfect ones, and what 
 a lot of them. But the man's a fool! They'll bring 
 awful luck. First comes home in May, then these 
 pearls! Really, Theo, it's too much. Oh, here he 
 comes. Dear Etienne," smiling gently at her brother- 
 in-law, "how exquisite these pearls are! I was just 
 telling Theo that you spoil her. They suit her though, 
 to perfection. We mustn't tell her how handsome she 
 looks in them, must we ? Did you suggest those lilies 
 in her hair?" 
 
 "I think a kind wish to please Merle suggested 
 them." Etienne spoke slowly, looking at me so stead- 
 ily that my eyes fell. "I am right, Theo?" he asked, 
 as we went in to dinner. 
 
 "Hervey is always so nice to me," I said, accepting 
 the apology that I believed lay in both words and 
 manner. I bore him no grudge for his moment of 
 anger upstairs he had been sorely tried. 
 
 Hervey, who, since his master's marriage, had given 
 up the duties of valet to assume those of house-steward 
 and butler, was waiting in the dining-room. As 
 
 101
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Etienne led me to a chair on one side of the table, 
 Hervey drew out one at the other. I paused in doubt. 
 
 "The draught from the window, sir," said Hervey 
 gently. "Mrs. Rappelle had better sit here." 
 
 "There is more there," said Etienne. "It will come 
 directly on her shoulder, from the door." 
 
 "Which shall be shut," closing it. "Here, please, 
 Mrs. Rappelle." 
 
 "You can't keep the pantry-door shut. Sit here, 
 Theo." 
 
 "The screen, sir, prevents that being felt. This will 
 be best, Mrs. Rappelle." 
 
 The scene had become ridiculous. The two men, 
 each grasping firmly the back of his chosen chair, eyed 
 each other angrily. Another moment and I should 
 disgrace myself by wild laughter. Fortunately I sud- 
 denly realized that the table was round, and saw my 
 way of escape. 
 
 "I will sit here," I said, moving to a chair directly in 
 front of the chimney-piece over which hung the por- 
 trait of Old Vivian's unprincipled wife, "here, under 
 my noble ancestress, the Lady Sophia Braithe." Then, 
 the Braithe demon, as if summoned by her name, 
 taking possession of me, I added, casting down my 
 eyes and speaking very demurely, "Perhaps I may 
 grow to be like her in time. If you will take the place 
 opposite, Etienne, you may amuse your conservative 
 fancy by imagining yourself the first Vivian, the 
 builder of this Braithe." 
 
 Before he had time to reply Lilian had rushed into 
 fluent speech, and during the hour of dinner she and 
 Janey who had been allowed to sit up, in honor of 
 the home-coming kept the ball of conversation rolling 
 gayly. Later, when I went upstairs to kiss Jane good- 
 night, she had still more to say. 
 
 "O Theo, do you think Etienne will send Hervey 
 away?" 
 
 102
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 "Why should he?" 
 
 "Well, you saw them at dinner. Dear me, how 
 funny they looked! I was sorry and a little fright- 
 ened, but for all that, I thought I'd bust, I wanted to 
 laugh so. You did, too, your eyes just sparkled ! But 
 in the library, before that, gracious, how they had it! 
 'You should know her tastes by this time,' says Etienne 
 (I'd got as far as the door, but I didn't dare go in). 
 'I hope you've ordered a dinner that will suit her/ 
 'If ambrosia and nectar,' answers Hervey, 'were cried 
 on the market-place, Mrs. Rappelle should have them 
 if the martial cloak to my back went for their pur- 
 chase.' 'Hum,' (you know what I mean, Theo, it 
 begins with a D, but I mustn't say it), 'Hum your 
 martial cloak,' says Etienne, and he looked so cross I 
 ran away." 
 
 When I returned to the drawing-room Lilian at- 
 tacked me. 
 
 "I was sorry for you because you had to sleep in 
 Lydia's ghastly room I might better say in the 
 morgue, for everybody has died there but now I'm 
 glad, yes, glad ! Going on as you've been doing ! Set- 
 ting those two fools at loggerheads and then really 
 you've no conscience, Theo then letting all your 
 dimples come and flushing up. Oh, I've no patience 
 with you!" 
 
 That night, turning back a corner of the rich rug, 
 and kneeling on the hard cold stones. I prayed long in 
 my Cell of Flagellation for forgiveness for my proud 
 heart, my too-ready tongue, and my many, many faults 
 and weaknesses. I begged that I might learn how to 
 gain the respect of the man to whom we owed so much, 
 without losing my own dignity. There had been no 
 scorn in his eyes that whole day if only I might see 
 in them honest, friendly approval. 
 
 A resentful whimper outside the panel roused me 
 from my devotions. I rose, and admitted the Cheva- 
 
 103
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Her. His pleasure in the changes of the cell was ex- 
 pressed by wagging tail and smiling eyes. Turning 
 around and around in the middle of the soft rug he 
 finally settled himself with a thump, and grunted his 
 contentment. 
 
 "Charles Stuart, pampered lap-dog, you grow over- 
 fat!" I said severely. 
 
 He blinked one eye at me drowsily, then went to 
 sleep. 
 
 104
 
 xn 
 
 We were alone at Braithe but a few days only, 
 Monsieur Randoce joining us almost immediately in 
 order to continue his work upon my portrait, and our 
 party being still further enlarged by the introduction 
 of a family chaplain, in the person of a very young 
 clergyman just ordained. If I liked this Mr. Brace, 
 he was to remain with us until he got the offer of a 
 good living elsewhere. And I promised myself to 
 be pleased with him since he was very poor, and had a 
 mother in the background who needed help. He had 
 had charge of restoring the chapel during our absence. 
 
 Lilian laughed at Etienne's desire to return to the 
 old customs, but I was very glad that the chapel was 
 to be used again, and that we were to have a chaplain 
 living in the house. 
 
 Mr. Brace came to us the day after our arrival; a 
 fair-haired little fellow, painfully shy. 
 
 "You know that joke," said Janey, who took a deep 
 interest in him, "about never opening your mouth but 
 you put your foot in it ? Mr. Brace is the man. When 
 he doesn't talk I wish he would, and when he does I 
 wish he wouldn't. He seems good, but he worries 
 me!" 
 
 Mr. Brace did not worry me, but Monsieur Kandoce 
 did, since he pretended I could not believe he was 
 in earnest to be in love with me. One discomfort, 
 however, his French training led him to spare me ; that 
 of keeping up his air of devotion before Etienne. Hus- 
 bands, according to his ethics, were to be deceived. I 
 
 105
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 soon saw that he believed my silent role to have been 
 assumed for the same reason as his polite indifference, 
 and I ought to have been angry, but he was so comical 
 that amusement destroyed my vexation. 
 
 During the last week in June an unexpected visitor 
 arrived at Braithe. 
 
 I was in my boudoir late one afternoon embroider- 
 ing, when Lilian came in, looking very unhappy. The 
 weather was already that of July, hot midsummer 
 weather, and a thunder-storm was brewing. Big sullen 
 clouds sailed overhead, messengers from the dunder- 
 bergs that had peeped at us, over the western hills, all 
 the morning. 
 
 "Embroidering? O Theo, how idiotic!" said Lilian 
 fretfully, throwing herself down upon the lounge as 
 she spoke. "Lightning may come any minute now." 
 
 She wore a white dressing-gown, covered with lace, 
 and her pretty hair rippled over her shoulders. Her 
 pretty face wore lines of discontent. 
 
 "Do put down your needle, Theo," she continued. 
 "Why you want to sew, when you don't have to, beats 
 me ! If you go on in the way you've been doing lately, 
 however, I suppose we'll all have to grovel in the dirt 
 again. Perhaps that's the reason you don't care if you 
 are struck dead or blind." 
 
 "What do you mean?" I asked, putting away my 
 work as she had desired. 
 
 "Oh, you know well enough! Etienne's caving. 
 When I saw him lugging home that great bottle of 
 tonic-stuff the day after we got here really, Theo, 
 it's positively sickening the row he makes about your 
 lack of appetite; watching you at table, and running 
 after you when you pretend to forget your dose." 
 
 "Nonsense, Lilian, that's not true," I said, coloring 
 deeply with displeasure. 
 
 "Sends Hervey then ; it amounts to the same thing 
 I wish you'd happen to see them once, cracking their 
 
 106
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 skulls together trying who can grab the bottle first. 
 Well, I hope you'll be satisfied when you've got di- 
 vorced, and we're living on a miserly alimony in a 
 squalid country town; for that's what we're coming 
 to, you mark my words ! You've grown so accustomed 
 to being free that you forget you're married, but he 
 doesn't, although he has spoiled you so outrageously, 
 and when you get him to the boiling point he's more 
 than tepid now it'll be wife, or no wife, and a 
 'Madam, take your choice/ I know you, Theo, you're 
 as stubborn as ten mules. You're a real Braithe you 
 won't give in. You won't think of me or Jane, for 
 with you it's always self, self, self!" 
 
 "If you find me so disagreeable," I said, losing my 
 temper because of this undeserved rebuke, and wound- 
 ed by her heartlessness, "why do you come in here?" 
 
 "That's right, turn me from your door, and at 
 the moment when misfortune's close upon me," she 
 whimpered. "Look at that," drawing a beautiful tur- 
 quoise her natal stone, a present from Etienne f rom 
 her finger, "look at that, and dare tell me it isn't turn- 
 ing green!" 
 
 I took the ring to the window, for the heavy pall of 
 cloud was fast obscuring the light, and examined it 
 carefully. As Lilian had said, the stone had a faint 
 greenish tint. I looked inside the setting, and saw 
 what appeared to be a tiny particle of soap. 
 
 "Why, you've been washing your hands with it on!" 
 I exclaimed. 
 
 "Well, anyone might have known that," said Lilian 
 pettishly. "What's that got to do with it, pray?" 
 
 "Why call carelessness bad luck?" I asked. "You 
 knew water would turn the stone green." 
 
 "Bad luck is coming," said Lilian solemnly, "or 
 Etienne wouldn't have given me the stone of my 
 month, my luck stone, in a ring. That was the first 
 sign. Of course I forgot to take it off when I ought j 
 
 107
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 that was the second sign. The third was its change of 
 color. Now comes misfortune." 
 
 She drew her handkerchief from her pocket as she 
 spoke, and with it a letter, which fell to the floor. I 
 picked it up and recognized the handwriting. 
 
 "Bertie Fayne!" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, Bertie Fayne," said Lilian, snatching the let- 
 ter from my hand. "What does he say? Nothing, as 
 usual. Now don't poke and pry, Theo. He sends his 
 love to you, and a lot of rot about childhood-memories, 
 and so forth. I wish he'd write to you instead of me ; 
 I'm not interested in him, goodness knows!" 
 
 I asked no questions, although I wished very much 
 to know where Herbert was, and what he was doing. 
 Somehow since my marriage I had thought often of 
 my old playfellow, who had taken no notice of it, or 
 of me. I had fancied that, my father being gone, he 
 would wish to revisit Braithe and renew his old inti- 
 macy. This was the first letter Lilian had, to my 
 knowledge, received from him since I had become 
 Theodora Rappelle. What did he think of this odd 
 change of masters at Braithe? Of the great-grandson 
 of our great-great-great-grandfather's henchman be- 
 coming Lord of the Manor and of the Head of the 
 Braithes ? 
 
 "Anyone but Etienne," said Lilian, breaking in 
 upon my musings with fresh complaints, "would have 
 had enough sdbe to have thought of that, and have 
 given me something else. A pendant, say, or a brace- 
 let." 
 
 "You chose a ring yourself," I said, indig- 
 nant. "Etienne told me to ask you which you would 
 prefer ; and you might have had the pendant, or the 
 bracelet." 
 
 "I dare say you suggested those miserable little 
 things, Theo, when all the time you knew perfectly 
 well I wanted a necklace. But no, Mrs. Rappelle 
 
 108
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 must have diamonds, and pearls, and necklaces; and I, 
 I am only Miss Braithe; turquoises are good enough 
 for her! She's not the wife of a rich grocer. No, 
 thank God, I'm not; I'm a Braithe of Braithe!" 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Janey, thrusting in her 
 golden head. 
 
 "Nothing, Pet," I said quickly. "Come in and 
 bring the Chevalier." 
 
 "He's agitated," said Jane. "Come, Charles Stuart! 
 Him feels the thunder in his boneses, poor chappie! 
 Come to his Theo, and tell her all about it!" 
 
 The poor Chevalier, nervous and careworn, slunk 
 into the room, seated himself firmly on a fold of my 
 gown, and shivered violently. Thunder storms were 
 an agony to him ; during them he spent his time seek- 
 ing safety under my bed, and scrambling out again to 
 see if Janey and I still lived. Driven by extreme ter- 
 ror to leave us, his sheep, his collie soul.was wrung by 
 our peril, and conscience would not allow him to desert 
 us utterly. 
 
 Lilian, angry at the entrance of the others, flounced 
 from the room. 
 
 "I'm glad she's gone," said Jane, climbing up on my 
 lap. "She's turned the corners down," touching my 
 lips with loving fingers, "and they'd begun to stay up 
 all the time again. That's because I've been keeping, 
 
 ' Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory, 
 Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer ;' 
 
 busy lately, carrying mine in to God. 'Not in gar- 
 lands of purple and red, please, Great Angel,' I said, 
 'but just the prayers, straight off, as I say them.' I've 
 always thought," said the child, looking dreamily out 
 of the window at the darkening landscape, "I've al- 
 ways thought Sandalphon did a queer thing, jumbling 
 up everybody's prayers into wreaths that way. Still," 
 sighing, "I suppose he has to obey orders, and he 
 
 109
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 needs something to cheer him, like flowers, standing 
 up to his knees in corpses all the time." 
 
 "Janey!" 
 
 "It says so, Theo. 
 
 ' Among the dead angels, the deathless 
 Sandalphon stands listening breathless, ' 
 
 Just like poor Charles Stuart listening for the first 
 peal of thunder," said Janey calmly, "and it can't be 
 pleasant for the Angel. Yes, I've prayed to God him- 
 self to make you happy, Theo; to God himself, who 
 put us all here, and not to poor Christ the Lord, who 
 tries to straighten out the Almighty's mistakes. I 
 suppose it was hard making a world for the first time, 
 hurrying about it so, too, getting it all done in a week, 
 and then beginning it with a Jew family such a queer 
 start off! No, I shan't bother Jesus; all children are 
 doing it incessantly, with their: 
 
 ' Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
 Listen to a little child.' 
 
 And besides them, widows, and orphans, and big men- 
 sinners scared of God. People are mean to Jesus 
 Christ, yes, hateful and mean, at him all the time just 
 because he's sweet and good. No, I pray to God, and 
 I guess He'll feel He must pay some attention to a 
 hunchbacked-orphan-child !" 
 
 "Kind little sister, to pray for me," I said gently, 
 stroking her beautiful golden hair, and feeling power- 
 less to cope with her strange fancies. How might I 
 dare to question what prayers flew straight to the great 
 All-Father? What was I but a faulty creature by the 
 side of this pure-hearted little child? Surely her 
 prayers had brought me peace, for since our return to 
 Braithe I had read only respect in Etienne Rappelle's 
 watchful eyes. 
 
 "Etienne's so funny!" said Janey suddenly. "Her- 
 110
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 vey, too. Etienne treats you as if you were a bird 
 with a broken wing, and Hervey " the child began to 
 laugh " 'Hervey,' I said, t'other day, 'my sister Theo 
 is the apple of your eye.' 'She is, Miss Janey,' says 
 Hervey, 'let any mote or beam dare dart therein and 
 I'll pluck 'em out and show 'em accordingly.' Hush 1 
 What was that? Thunder?" 
 
 Charles Stuart's toenails were distinctly heard as, 
 darting into the adjoining room, he clawed his hasty 
 way under the bed. A gentle knock at the door, and 
 Hervey entered. 
 
 "Mr. Rappelle's compliments to Miss Jane, and will 
 she favor him with a game of euchre, in the library? 
 The shutters there," confidentially, "are closed, and 
 the lamps burn brightly." Then, as Janey ran away, 
 "Miss Jane is a trifle timid, though, through pride 
 fearing a fall in the loss of others' estimation, will let 
 the fox gnaw on at any point. And," moving toward 
 the window, "seeing you can't tell where the lightning 
 will strike a man dumb, or lady either, I'll close the 
 shutters." 
 
 Having accomplished this task, and lighted the 
 candles on my dressing-table, Hervey stood gazing 
 reflectively at me, his head on one side, his odd dep- 
 recatory smile playing about his lips. 
 
 "When first I came," he said musingly, "I thought 
 'twould be damp, but now, thinking of that appalling 
 disaster, I'm glad it's stone. Stone walls do not a 
 prison make, nor iron bars a good fire-escape when 
 heated red-hot to the touch." 
 
 The disaster to which Hervey alluded had occurred 
 only the week before ; a hotel fire, in which many had 
 lost their lives. The whole country was mourning over 
 the sickening horrors of the holocaust. 
 
 "They say now," Hervey continued, " 'twas set on 
 fire by thieves. Put not your trust in men, for some 
 are devils, nor set a thief to catch these same, but an 
 
 111
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 honest man, who can see through the eye of a needle 
 in a haystack. I'd like to have the roasting of them 
 under the greenwood tree, seeing it burns slowly, and 
 dry wood don't. Ah, what a peal was that!" as the 
 thunder suddenly crashed over Braithe. "Did I hear 
 carriage wheels, Mrs. Rappelle?" And he ran down- 
 stairs. 
 
 I followed, going half-way down to listen. The next 
 moment a tall, handsome man stood in the brightly 
 lighted hall, and I, running to meet him, both hands 
 outstretched in welcome, cried, in a voice where tears 
 and laughter mingled: 
 
 "Bertie! Oh, Bertie Fayne!" 
 
 What to me that lightning flashed and thunder 
 roared, or that the floodgates of heaven seemed opened ! 
 I paid no attention to the terrible violence of the 
 storm, as I looked up through tear-dimmed eyes, and 
 with happy smiles, at my old playmate, who, for the 
 moment, had brought back my childhood. He 
 was as glad, apparently, to see me again. We stood 
 in the centre of the great hall, laughing, shaking 
 hands, exclaiming, as though we were both as 
 young and jubilant as when we had parted, years 
 before. 
 
 "You have changed very little," I said at last, "save 
 that you have grown very tall, and your hair is a 
 trifle darker. 
 
 "I've changed more inside," he said, with his sunny 
 smile. "The seed you laboriously planted a grain 
 of mustard seed, wasn't it? has sprouted vigorously. 
 But, dear me, Theo, what a beauty you are ! A regu- 
 lar out-and-outer, as we used to say. Are you as 
 strict a Puritan as ever ?" 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 "Not for others," I said. "I hope I have grown 
 more tolerant. But where is your trunk?" 
 
 I was told that my cousin had proposed putting up 
 112
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 at the Gills'. Then, seeing his face change suddenly, 
 I turned, to find Etienne approaching, with Janey, 
 from the library. My gay spirits fell as quickly as 
 they had risen, and, as I went through the ceremony 
 of introduction, I ceased to be Theo Braithe, and be- 
 came Mrs. Etienne Rappelle. 
 
 The two men presented a marked contrast as they 
 stood, facing each other, before the great chimney. 
 Herbert Fayne's brilliant beauty made Etienne's dark 
 face look almost grim in its stern, square outlines, and, 
 as Etienne was of medium height, Herbert's inches 
 caused him to appear short. But his greeting to his 
 wife's cousin was perfect, and showed that he knew 
 how to mingle stateliness with cordiality. 
 
 He would not hear of Herbert leaving us for the 
 Gills, but begged him to make Braithe his headquar- 
 ters. Herbert accepted, with his old boyish grace 
 of manner and then, detecting Janey hiding in the 
 background, demanded an introduction. The child 
 hung back, always shy about meeting strangers, be- 
 cause of her misfortune. 
 
 "Please come and make friends with me," pleaded 
 Herbert, in his sweet voice. "I've heard so much 
 about my little cousin Janey." 
 
 "Very well," said Jane, slowly advancing from her 
 corner, "then I might as well get it over at once. I'm 
 rather a shock to people, Cousin Herbert, as a general 
 thing, and like to let them down easy." 
 
 She shook hands gravely, but drew back when he 
 offered to kiss her. 
 
 "We'd better wait to see how we get on, first," she 
 said solemnly, "before going as far as that." 
 
 "I'm sorry I don't please you better," said Her- 
 bert plaintively. 
 
 "It's not your fault, Cousin Herbert. You can't 
 help looking like Old Vivian, and having father's voice, 
 any more than I can help having a crooked spine. Ap- 
 
 113
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 pearances don't amount to much, they say, but 
 somehow we have to get used to 'em." 
 
 Charles Stuart, rushing down the stairs at this 
 juncture, created a happy diversion. To be sure, up- 
 set by the storm, he failed to recognize Herbert as a 
 guest, and showed a lively desire to turn him from 
 the door. Janey, shocked by this gross lack of hos- 
 pitality, cuffed the Chevalier, and made him apolo- 
 gize by giving his paw, which he did with much sup- 
 pressed growling, and intense unwillingness. 
 
 "The thunder distracts him," said Janey. "I'm 
 sorry he's so rude. Go upstairs, Charles Stuart, and 
 pray for forgiveness under Theo's bed." The Cheva- 
 lier obeyed with suspicious alacrity. "It's the only 
 place that soothes his nerves," explained Jane gravely, 
 "and I suppose we all have our moments of savagery." 
 
 It was high time to dress for dinner, so Janey and 
 I went upstairs, she running to tell the Chevalier 
 that the storm was passing, and I to inform Lilian 
 of Herbert's arrival. In this she took small interest 
 apparently, being too much worried by the change 
 in her turquoise to think of anything else. 
 
 "Go away, Marie," she said to her maid, who was 
 bathing her forehead with cologne, "go away! I 
 want to see Mrs. Kappelle alone. Theo," as the door 
 closed behind the woman, "go and lock it. I want 
 you to promise me something; now, at once, this min- 
 ute, before I go mad with fretting. Get my Testa- 
 ment." I obeyed. "Now swear, by this Book, that 
 you will never tell Etienne, or anybody, anything I 
 may choose to confide to your keeping." 
 
 "I can't, Lilian," I said; "you might tell me some- 
 thing that concerned Janey, or Etienne, deeply." 
 
 "Nonsense, what a fool you are! I mean my own 
 affairs, of course. What do I care about them? There, 
 it's just like you, after always saying you never want 
 to meddle with other people's lives! I've got a right 
 
 114
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 to manage my own affairs my own way, haven't I, 
 Theo Braithe?" 
 
 "Yes, Lilian." 
 
 "Do you want to go 'round screeching my concerns 
 at the top of your lungs to everybody ?" 
 
 "No, Lilian." 
 
 "Then swear." 
 
 I yielded, as was my custom when Lilian's nerves 
 were on edge ; I took my oath to keep her petty, child- 
 ish secrets. She dismissed me at once, saying she would 
 have her dinner upstairs and not come down again. 
 
 "What shall I say to Bertie for you?" I asked. 
 
 "Tell him to go to the devil," she said crossly. 
 
 I met Hervey as I went downstairs. 
 
 "Where have you put Mr. Fayne?" I asked. 
 
 "Below," he said, pointing downward. "Bachelor 
 room south of front door, Mrs. Rappelle. He may 
 like to meet the sun the dewy lawn upon in early 
 walks." 
 
 "He has grown up even handsomer than he prom- 
 ised as a boy," I said, half to myself and half to 
 Hervey. 
 
 "Humph all that glitters is not broken glass bot- 
 tles, of course still " and Hervey shook his head. 
 Evidently my kinsman had failed to please. 
 
 Later, at dinner, I saw that Monsieur Randoce was 
 not prepossessed in Herbert's favor, for the ends of 
 the gay Frenchman's mustache drooped. Janey called 
 this mustache La Girouette, since by its upward, or 
 downward curve, you learned at once of the good or 
 bad spirits of its wearer. Scarcely had we been at 
 table for a half hour when the tips of La Girouette 
 were dragged down; Monsieur Randoce had grown 
 melancholy. Herbert, on the contrary, was bright and 
 charming; and in spite of Lilian's absence, my en- 
 forced silence, and the sulkiness of Monsieur Randoce, 
 the dinner passed off gayly. When I went to my room 
 
 115
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 I was far happier than usual; Herbert's coming had 
 brought me a new lightness of heart. 
 
 At two o'clock that night I was aroused by hearing 
 the Chevalier he slept in my room snuffing under 
 the crack of my door. Thinking instantly of Janey, 
 fearing she might be ill, I sprang from my bed, and 
 running to the door opened it quickly. Charles Stuart, 
 wagging his tail, ran forward to greet Lilian, who was 
 stealing softly upstairs. At sight of me she looked 
 frightened, but hastened to explain that, being hun- 
 gry, she had gone down to the pantry in search of 
 food. 
 
 "And I wish I were dead!" she continued, begin- 
 ning to cry. "And I want you to come into my room, 
 Theo, and sleep with me to-night." 
 
 116
 
 xm 
 
 It was long before Lilian, weeping against my 
 shoulder, became calm enough to sleep; and when, 
 at last, her deep breathing told me that her nervous 
 attack was over for the time, her frequent low cries of 
 discomfort showed that her brain had not found com- 
 plete repose, even in her heavy slumber. I thought 
 the upset condition of her nerves was due to the state 
 of the atmosphere for the thunder growled all night 
 and I was glad, indeed, when I woke in the morn- 
 ing, to find the sky blue overhead. Not that there 
 had been a good clearing, for, as on the day previous, 
 big dunderbergs peeped at us from over the western 
 hills. Still I hoped that a long morning nap might 
 steady Lilian, so I crept from her room gently and 
 warned her maid to let her sleep late. 
 
 Herbert was not at breakfast. Hervey said that 
 he had had an early cup of coffee, and then pulled 
 across the river in a light rowboat. Neither was Mr. 
 Brace visible, he having had a summons from one of 
 his poor people. Mr. Brace had already become a 
 factor for much good among the brickmakers' fami- 
 lies, in the small settlement a mile down the river. 
 Monsieur Randoce always breakfasted in his room; 
 so Etienne, Janey, and I were alone. 
 
 Little Jane chatted away in her usual lively fashion, 
 directing her talk to Etienne, as she had grown ac- 
 customed to obeying Lilian's command not to "tempt 
 Theo to gabble." Etienne was kind and attentive to 
 the child, as always; and, finding myself an outsider, 
 I became so much absorbed in my own thoughts that 
 I started when, breakfast being over, Etienne sud- 
 
 117
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 denly asked if I would give him a few moments in the 
 library. I rose at once and went with him across the 
 hall. I was much surprised to see him, after we had 
 entered his sanctum, close the outer door of baize 
 before he shut the inner mahogany one. This out- 
 side door meant "no admittance" to the household; 
 and I wondered, uncomfortably, what was coming. 
 
 The big room looked pleasant and homelike. Both 
 great windows stood wide, letting in the sweet morn- 
 ing air, laden with the perfume of the rain-drenched 
 flowers of the window-boxes. From above the chim- 
 ney-piece Vivian, builder of our Braithe, looked down 
 upon me, with the eyes of his descendant Herbert 
 Fayne. The two men were, certainly, marvellously 
 alike, I thought, as I stood in the centre of the great 
 room and looked earnestly up at the portrait. Yes, 
 put Herbert in a coat of black velvet, with ruffled shirt- 
 front and powdered hair; oblige him to part with the 
 tawny mustache that hid his Grecian mouth full- 
 lipped, almost sneering and you would have Old 
 Vivian to the life. Had Herbert shaken off the 
 Braithe nature, as I so hoped ? Could he, with his 
 Braithe face ? 
 
 "Theo," said Etienne gravely, "I am about to ask 
 a favor of you but pray sit down." 
 
 He motioned me to take the chair of Vivian, but 
 I moved toward the east window, instead. The com- 
 ing interview was, I saw, to be unpleasant, and I had 
 no desire to be seated. No, I preferred to stand close 
 by the window, where I might, now and then, refresh 
 myself with a look at my old friend, the river, flow- 
 ing calmly, grandly, inland, with its large message 
 from the sea. The river might lend me courage, it 
 looked so strong. Etienne took up his position on the 
 hearth-rug, directly below my ancestor's portrait, and 
 continued: 
 
 "I wish, Theo, to relinquish the part you have as- 
 118
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 signed to me" I turned from the river "the part 
 of ogre and fool." 
 
 "I don't understand," I said faintly. 
 
 "I wish also," he went on, paying no attention to 
 my protest, "to beg you to drop the role of Patient 
 Grissel. It does not suit your style." 
 
 "Eeally, Etienne " 
 
 He interrupted me irritably, almost fiercely. 
 
 " Don't insult me, pray, by pretending you don't 
 understand. When I'm not by you are gay, talkative. 
 When your cousin came, last night, you were your- 
 self. 'Dear me!' said little Jane; 'just listen to Theo! 
 Who's come, I wonder? Hear her ripple laugh! 
 Doesn't it sound nice ? Just like old times.' I entered 
 the hall; what followed? Instantly you became the 
 repressed, sad-eyed creature but there " he broke 
 off, was silent a moment, then added : "Will you kindly 
 inform me why you wish me not to know your real 
 self? Will you tell me why you are so anxious to 
 keep down your natural manner? Ah!" scrutinizing 
 me keenly; "perhaps you fear I may fall a victim to 
 your charms!" 
 
 "Etienne!" I cried, flushing hotly. 
 
 "So that is it?" he spoke with bitter amusement. 
 "Yes, I see it is; your face and eyes are tell-tales, 
 Theo. I think you forget, my dear, that I am not an 
 unfledged school-boy; I have seen a great deal of the 
 world. I am forty-two years old perhaps you thought 
 me younger?" 
 
 He stopped speaking, he expected an answer. He 
 received none. My indignation was rising under the 
 lash of his irony. 
 
 "Oblige me by telling me if you knew my age?" 
 
 If I knew the age of the Rappelle! An absurd 
 question surely. Poor Mr. Beecham, I remembered, 
 had said Mr. Rappelle was "not yet forty" poor Mr. 
 Beecham fearing an elderly suitor might shock my 
 
 119
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 girlish mind! But I had always known everything I 
 could learn about the Rappelles. 
 
 "Did you know, Theo?" 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 "Yet you thought me vulnerable! Why, I am a 
 multi-millionaire, Theo, and have always been con- 
 sidered an excellent parti. Many a match-making 
 mother has marked me for her own. I am grown a 
 very wary old bird, child, and am not in the least sus- 
 ceptible, I assure you." 
 
 I wondered, not for the first time, if he had ever 
 been very much in love finding time for this thought 
 even in the midst of my vexation and shame. I was 
 very much ashamed. 
 
 "So you see," he went on, slowly, "you may set your 
 mind at rest about me and my heart. Having never 
 experienced the grand passion, I may hope to escape it 
 altogether. But you are very handsome, and it was 
 only natural, after all, that you should judge real men 
 by the heroes of fiction. I ought to be grateful for 
 your desire not to place me in the wretched position of 
 an unloved lover." 
 
 I, naturally, made no comment. 
 
 "From now on, Theo, I shall ask you to forget me 
 and my susceptible heart and to enjoy yourself after 
 your own fashion. But let me beg you to sit down; 
 there are several other things I wish to speak about." 
 He dragged forward the great armchair of Old Vivian, 
 and again motioned me to seat myself in it. 
 
 "No, please, Etienne," I said, gently, "that is your 
 chair now." I did not add that I detested it, it being 
 difficult to drop my old role at once. 
 
 "On the contrary," he said, coldly, "it is all your 
 own, as the eldest living Braithe." 
 
 "How lovely these roses are!" I said, and going to 
 the table I bent over an old green punch-bowl, heaped 
 full of fragrant beauties. 
 
 120
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Yes," he assented, "roses are always beau- 
 tiful." 
 
 "Beautiful, indeed!" I murmured; then, turning a 
 little, so that I could look into the eyes of the strange 
 man standing by the great carved armchair, the man 
 who was so sure he was invulnerable, I laid my cheek 
 lightly against the roses the deep red, the pale pink, 
 the creamy roses that filled the old green bowl almost 
 to overflowing, and added dreamily, "Leaves of vel- 
 vet, fragrant velvet, soft summer-scented 1 Have 
 you always been fond of roses, Etienne ?" 
 
 "Yes," he said, slowly, "always." 
 
 His eyes were so brilliant, and he kept them upon 
 me so steadily, that my own fell. I busied myself 
 selecting a flower for my hair. 
 
 "Do you, too, like to feel the soft touch of their 
 velvety petals against your cheek?" I asked. 
 
 "I don't know," he said, "I have never tried." 
 
 I had found the flower I wished, a half -blown rose; 
 fragrant, palest pink; and, standing beside the table, 
 I looked up earnestly at Old Vivian as I put the blos- 
 som in my hair. I wore a sheer white linen, trimmed 
 lavishly with beautiful flower embroidery (dubbed 
 lace, because the heavy background is cut away), with 
 great puffed sleeves, coming only to the elbow; and the 
 neck, half high, cut square, both back and front, like 
 those gowns worn by the women in old Italian pictures. 
 A charming frock, indeed, almost a fancy dress, since 
 my dressmaker had allowed her fancy to run riot. Had 
 the cold-eyed man of the portrait cared to see his wife 
 in pretty gowns, I wondered? Would he have taken 
 her to task had she failed to bring him a heavy dress- 
 maker's bill ? Did his servant's descendant, now ruler 
 of Braithe and the Braithes, approve of my white 
 finery? 
 
 "The rose is perfectly placed," said a hard voice. 
 "Will you kindly sit here?" 
 
 121
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 I flashed around upon my husband, vexed that my 
 effort to avoid doing what he wished had failed. 
 
 "So be it," I said, seating myself in the chair of 
 state, and leaning my head against the new ruby vel- 
 vet of the high carved back, "since you prefer it. A 
 footstool, please." 
 
 I spoke imperiously, although kindly, as to a de- 
 pendent. Etienne brought the footstool, placed it be- 
 neath my feet, and was about to return to his position 
 before the chimney-piece, when, thrusting out my 
 dainty slippers how different from the shabby, 
 patched shoes of the past winter! I said, looking at 
 them disapprovingly: "They are dusty, yes, really 
 quite dusty. Kindly remove this dust with your hand- 
 kerchief, Etienne." 
 
 I did not raise my eyes, but kept them fixed upon 
 the silver buckles of my high-heeled slippers; slippers 
 quite free from dust speck, beautifully clean. 
 
 Etienne came forward, dropped upon one knee be- 
 fore me, and slowly, very slowly, dusted my shining 
 slippers with a snowy handkerchief. He knelt grace- 
 fully, a difficult feat. I wondered how he would look 
 were he down upon both knees. 
 
 "Do they please you now?" he asked, looking up at 
 me with keen, questioning eyes. He had finished his 
 task, but did not rise. 
 
 "Yes," I said, tilting my head a little, as if to judge 
 the result of his work the better, "yes, they will do 
 very well, thanks." 
 
 He placed a hand on either arm of the chair, steady- 
 ing himself and imprisoning me, and said, slowly: 
 
 "What do you wish me to understand by this?" 
 
 I smiled, but made no answer. 
 
 "You consider this my proper place, Theo?" 
 
 "If this chair is mine," I said, "yes. If, as a Braithe, 
 I am to fill this chair, I must behave as such. As my 
 mother's daughter, I behave, think, feel, differently; 
 
 122
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 the dust upon my slippers remains, or is nicked away 
 with my own handkerchief. As a Braithe? "Why, 
 naturally, I use the hands, the handkerchief, of a 
 Eappelle. A Rappelle must not let a Braithe do 
 aught but idle. You place me here take the con- 
 sequences. You force me into this position behold 
 your own!" 
 
 His steady gaze brought the color to my face, but 
 I looked into his eyes, smiling. My Braithe demon 
 held sway. It was for the man who had summoned 
 to exorcise it. He had commanded me to be my old 
 self; I obeyed him. He rose slowly, and stood upon 
 the hearth-rug as before; he still looked earnestly 
 at me. 
 
 "In this chair," I continued, staring dreamily before 
 me, "I am dowered with the memories of past events 
 in the lives of my grandfathers. The wealth garnered 
 in their noble minds is handed on to me. Dear me, 
 dear me, how well I remember (as Old Vivian) the 
 night I looted the English Braithe House ! I can see 
 my lovely Sophia now, as she stood, her sweet blue 
 eyes upraised to mine, asking me if I could not squeeze 
 into my pocket just one thing more; the stocking in 
 which my dear old nurse kept her little savings! 
 Sophia had drawn it, so cleverly, from under the good 
 old soul's pillow. I remember " 
 
 "Theo!" cried Etienne, greatly shocked; "how can 
 you feel so bitterly toward the Braithes? A fine old 
 race they had their faults, of course, but " 
 
 "One moment, please," I said, holding up my hand 
 to enjoin silence, "give me just one moment, Etienne, 
 before you continue your praises of my race. As a 
 Braithe, with my hands upon the family Leopards of 
 the family chair (a leopard couchant formed each 
 arm), I may tell you, quite plainly since you excuse 
 Braithe failings that Mr. Braithe misinformed you 
 in regard to me. From my fourteenth until my twen- 
 
 123
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ty-first birthday I saw many people ; going from pen- 
 sion to pension in Germany, France, Switzerland, 
 Italy. People, Etienne, are the same in pensions as 
 in palaces I know them well. Yes, I think, that 
 here, in this chair of Vivian de Vere Braithe, I may 
 say to you that I am well accustomed to the society of 
 men. Indeed, I have had much experience, 
 Etienne, of men and their ways. And I think I 
 ought to add, that I have been called an 'arrant flirt/ 
 a 'hardened coquette/ even 'dangerous!' J 
 
 By the time I had finished speaking I knew that my 
 face was white; my hands trembled on the Leopards' 
 slippery backs, and I could no longer look at Etienne. 
 However, he had the truth at last. How would he 
 take it? 
 
 A chair was drawn close to mine, and Etienne, seat- 
 ing himself, said gently, but with an odd inflection, 
 that puzzled me, in his voice, "When you lifted your 
 arms to put that rose in your hair, Theo, did you know 
 what a picture you made ?" 
 
 I did not answer. I was afraid. With this man, 
 who was my husband, I had lost the weapons that I 
 had handled so easily when free. My power seemed 
 gone. He lifted my left hand from its place on the 
 Leopard's head, and held it close. 
 
 "You are like a rose, Theo. How many must have 
 told you so ! What a cold little hand, my dear ; are 
 these white embroideries too cool? What flashed so 
 brightly under them, on this arm? Ah!" he put his 
 free hand beneath my arm, just above my elbow, where 
 I had wound thinking it would be out of sight the 
 diamond chain that held my opal. "The Gypsy's 
 Opal!" in pretended astonishment, and suddenly tight- 
 ening his grasp upon hand and arm, said, "and on a 
 gypsy; I kiss it for good luck." 
 
 Bending his head he kissed, not the gem, but the 
 bend of my arm within the elbow; did this so insult- 
 
 124 *
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ingly that in an instant I had flung him off, and gained 
 the middle of the room. I was almost beside myself 
 with anger. 
 
 "How dare you!" I cried, stamping my foot. "Oh, 
 how dare you!" I could speak no further, passion 
 choked me. 
 
 Etienne rose slowly and faced me. 
 
 "How dared you tell me a falsehood, Theo?" 
 
 He spoke so calmly, and a smile of such sardonic 
 amusement played about his lips, that my anger in- 
 creased. 
 
 "I? A falsehood? When?" I cried, tears of 
 wrath in my eyes, my cheeks aflame. 
 
 "Just now," he said, composedly, "when you gave 
 me to understand that for seven years you flirted with 
 the Toms, Dicks, and Harrys of European boarding- 
 houses." 
 
 "But I did," I said, quickly, "and you ought to 
 know it." 
 
 Etienne's smile of amusement deepened; he raised 
 his eyebrows in mock astonishment, as he said, "What, 
 so out of practice, from two years of seclusion, that 
 you have forgotten how to take a kiss? For a person 
 of seven years' experience, that is a little strange. 
 Why, look! at the mere mention of my kiss a hus- 
 band's kiss, too, so a tame one you blush as hotly as a 
 school-girl. Why did you tell me such a fib, Theo? 
 One so easily found out, too." 
 
 As he spoke my anger was dominated by surprise at 
 the way in which he had taken my words. I was 
 horrified by his interpretation, and by the strange 
 means he had used to test me. Had I remembered 
 that to some people the word flirting meant permitting 
 such liberties as stolen kisses, and the like milkmaid 
 coquetries I could never have made my confession. 
 Yet how explain? 
 
 "You thought I had let people treat me so so 
 125
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 familiarly?" I faltered, almost too much ashamed by 
 his ideas of me to speak at all. 
 
 "You said so, Theo." 
 
 "Is that your idea of of flirtation, Etienne?" 
 
 "Accepting a kiss, you would say, Theo? Why 
 yes, that's about it, isn't it?" 
 
 I took out my handkerchief and dried my eyes. My 
 anger toward him was gone; his ignorance had won 
 my pardon, had gained my sympathy. He had done 
 quite right to try me under the circumstances. How 
 disgusting my words must have been to him; how 
 anxious he must have been to quickly disprove them. 
 Kissing, indeed ! So he feared he had saddled himself 
 with that vulgar creature, a hand-squeezing, kissing, 
 ogling flirt ! Poor, poor Etienne ! I must have vexed 
 him sadly but, dear me, how much he had yet to 
 learn! 
 
 "I'm sorry to have been disagreeable, Etienne," I 
 said, gently, "when you are so kind, too. I am, indeed, 
 grateful for all you have done for my sisters for my 
 little Jane. She is very fond of her brother-in-law." 
 I smiled at him wistfully, anxious, at last, to please. 
 
 Etienne frowned, took a turn to the window and 
 back again, sighed, then said resignedly: 
 
 "I suppose there's no use in begging you to drop 
 that word, Theo, since it seems to be the chief one 
 in your vocabulary." 
 
 "What word, Etienne ?" He was a most surprising 
 man I found him interesting. 
 
 "Gratitude I hate it It's out of place between 
 you and me There, I don't wish to be cross, Theo, 
 but you are very trying at times." 
 
 "I know it, Etienne," I said, meekly, shaking my 
 head and sighing over my deficiencies, "very trying, 
 indeed." 
 
 He laughed, but uncomfortably. 
 
 "As I said before, Theo," he spoke impatiently, "I 
 126
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 wish you would forget me, and try to enjoy yourself 
 a little. I had hoped you might take pleasure in your 
 gewgaws most women care for such nonsense. You 
 don't, it seems." 
 
 "But I do," I protested. "I've already told you 
 that I love pretty things, Etienne. I am even fool- 
 ishly fond of purple and fine linen." 
 
 "Ah!" he stared at me a long moment; "if that is 
 true, you surprise me, Theo. Why, then, may I ask, 
 do you so seldom wear your jewels?" 
 
 I had no wish to tell him the real reason, and, no 
 nonsense coming to my lips, I remained silent. 
 
 "Then it is because I gave them, I suppose," he 
 added, grimly. 
 
 In my sudden desperation I found my tongue he 
 must not be allowed to believe this truth. 
 
 "I will wear them all this evening," I said, smiling, 
 yet flushing in my embarrassment, "all. You shall see 
 me covered with jewels, monseigneur. Now, are you 
 pleased?" 
 
 He looked at me curiously, as though I puzzled him. 
 I felt suddenly at my ease, and oddly gay. 
 
 "Mrs. Rappelle shall be magnificent to-night," I 
 added, lightly. "You will not recognize Theo Braithe 
 in that grande dame" 
 
 "Theo Braithe," said Etienne, slowly, "can shine all 
 the Rappelle diamonds down." 
 
 I swept him a low courtesy. "Not another word, 
 please," I said. "Let me fly, before the echo of that 
 charming compliment dies away." 
 
 He was not beside me when I reached the door, 
 but, as I glanced back over my shoulder, smiling, 
 hastened forward and opened it for me; he did not 
 speak, however. 
 
 Outside, in the hall, I found Hervey, perched on 
 the top of a tall step-ladder, busily engaged in rubbing 
 up the letters of the verse above the chimney-piece. 
 
 127
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 I looked up at him, nodding a greeting, and, thinking 
 my hair felt a trifle loose, patted it here and there. 
 Ah! my rose was gone. I glanced about the floor; 
 then, not finding it, tapped on the library door, open- 
 ing it at the same time. Etienne was bending over 
 his desk. 
 
 "I have lost my rose," I cried. "Have you seen 
 it, Etienne?" 
 
 He did not look around, but said absently, and as 
 if anxious to avoid interruption, "A rose? I do not 
 see it, Theo." 
 
 "No matter," I said, hastily, sorry for my thought- 
 less intrusion, "it is of no consequence," and closing 
 the door noiselessly, found Hervey looking down at 
 me with his deprecatory smile. 
 
 "One man's loss," he said, as if to himself, "is 
 another man's rose." 
 
 " 'Gain,' goosie Hervey!" cried Janey, hanging 
 over the gallery railing "rose, forsooth! You mean 
 'gain/ " 
 
 Hervey returned to his work. 
 
 "My luve's like a red, red rose," 
 
 piped Jane in her sweet treble, dropping, as she 
 sang, a great red rose on my head. 
 
 The Chevalier, thinking it thrown for his amuse- 
 ment, descended the staircase in a rush, but I had al- 
 ready stuck the flower in my hair. 
 
 "It looks pretty in your dusky tresses," said my 
 small sister, as she followed the Chevalier slowly. 
 "What was the color of the lost one? Oh, here's 
 Etienne" he came quickly from the library. 
 "Where are you going, Etienne?" 
 
 "To Hilltown, little Jane," said Etienne, adding 
 kindly, "Do you want to go, too?" 
 
 "No, thank you," said Jane, leaning against me, 
 drawing both my arms around her, and folding my 
 
 128
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 hands across her bosom; "no, Etienne. I am going 
 to gather roses with Theo but we won't take too 
 many from the garden, we won't gather all, Etienne," 
 
 "One can't gather all," said Etienne. He did not 
 look at the child, but at the rose in my hair. 
 
 "One, can't," said Jane, "nor two, perhaps; but 
 three people, I think, could ravage a garden, especially 
 when one is a male Braithe." 
 
 "What do you mean, Jane?" demanded Etienne, 
 in astonishment. 
 
 "Only that Herbert is waiting for us by the sun- 
 dial," said the child, composedly, "and he's an out- 
 and-out Braithe, if his name is Fayne. However, 
 I'll look out for your roses, Etienne, so don't worry." 
 
 129
 
 XIV 
 
 The garden at Braithe had been as tastefully cared 
 for as house and chapel, all its quaint beauty pre- 
 served. The old-fashioned flowers, the circle of turf in 
 its centre, with the moss-grown sun-dial, had not been 
 disturbed. Some of the box edging the paths be- 
 tween the fancifully cut flower-beds had had to give 
 place, because of its bulky growth, to new, smaller 
 bushes but box was replaced by box. It was the 
 same in regard to the hedge of arbor vitse that in- 
 closed the small square. Where the trees had died 
 from overcrowding by lusty neighbors new ones were 
 put in, but these same big neighbors were left stand- 
 ing, to lift their beautiful dark points as high as they 
 willed. 
 
 To the south a belt of splendid forest trees stretched 
 between garden and chapel, and a pretty path, run- 
 ning through this woodland, connected the two. On 
 the east an opening in the hedge led into my new 
 rose-garden. Here, on this sweep of lawn edging the 
 plateau, grew fine old tulip-trees, oaks, sycamores, and 
 maples; their lower branches trimmed high, so that 
 one looked between their tall trunks, as through rows 
 of stately pillars, at the broad river and away to its 
 distant hills. Everywhere, with artistic carelessness, 
 rose-bushes had been planted; while great beds of 
 monthly roses showed that we were to rejoice in fra- 
 grant blossoms even when June, their special season, 
 was past. 
 
 Little Jane and I went to the old garden to keep 
 tryst with Herbert; but he was not by the sun-dial. 
 Janey, closing the gate in the hedge with elaborate 
 
 130
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 caution (a tall old-fashioned iron gate, shaped like a 
 harp), motioned me to make no noise. 
 
 "Hush!" she murmured, laying a small forefinger 
 against her lips. "I forgot to prepare you for the 
 change. It makes him look like Guide's Apollo 
 same queer smile seems to grow 'round his mouth, 
 as if he were half laughing, half sneering, at someone 
 in his sleeve, you know, not outright. Of course 
 it must have been there, part of the time, last night, 
 but the mustache hid it. I think he was foolish to 
 do it, Theo, but after his upper lip tans a bit it won't 
 look so white and queer." 
 
 Then I understood that Herbert had parted with 
 his mustache. 
 
 "Guide's Apollo," mused the child, "driving in his 
 careless chariot, surrounded by fat women, walking. 
 I wonder are clouds like soft, heavy sea-sand, giving 
 way under one's feet, and tiresome? I've always 
 thought that Apollo was a lazy sybarite; he might 
 have let those women take turns driving, and walked 
 himself. But he wasn't an American, poor creature, 
 so we must make allowances for his rude, greedy ways. 
 Dear me, how hot the sun is here ! Let's go into the 
 rose-garden. I wish Herbert would come and amuse 
 us." 
 
 "Does your back ache, pet?" I asked, anxiously. 
 
 "Yes but don't you fret about me, Theo. You'd 
 better worry over Randoce, fiery mad in his studio at 
 the stables because you don't appear." 
 
 I had, indeed, forgotten my appointment. 
 
 "There," said Jane, "don't bother about him; I 
 want you to play with me." She drew me with her 
 into the rose-garden to where, beneath the trees, a 
 gay Mexican hammock swung. "Please lie down, 
 Theo, so " heaping bright-colored cushions beneath 
 my head. "I'm going to take down your hair and 
 turn you into the Sleeping Beauty." 
 
 131
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 "O Jane!" I remonstrated, "it's so hot; and what 
 if somebody comes?" 
 
 "Who can?" demanded the child, removing my 
 hairpins with dainty fingers. "Etienne's in Hilltown, 
 Lilian in the sulks, Randoce in his studio, Her- 
 bert in " 
 
 "Heaven, I think," said a pleasant voice, as Her- 
 bert himself strolled up, "but I'm afraid I'm not want- 
 ed yet the fair maiden invited me to meet her by 
 the sun-dial!" 
 
 "You weren't on time," said Jane severely, "but 
 you may stay now you're here," motioning toward a 
 basket-chair near us. "You don't mind him, Theo," 
 speaking under her breath. "He must have seen you 
 with your hair hanging down loads of times when 
 you were young." 
 
 I smiled up at my darling; since in her eagerness 
 she had forgotten her pain, by all means let her play 
 her play out. Herbert sank luxuriously into the chair 
 and clasped his hands behind his head. I looked at 
 him with much interest, feeling a strong desire to 
 know something of his life, and of him. He was 
 handsomer than ever without his mustache. He re- 
 turned my look with equal interest. 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, Dolly!" he said. 
 
 "Why do you call her that ?" asked Janey, ceasing 
 in her work of destruction to stare at Herbert cu- 
 riously. 
 
 "Because she was once my little cousin," said Her- 
 bert, "and that's one of my old pet names for her. 
 Helen of Troy was another for Theodora, Gift of 
 God. Dear me ! I had one of my biggest fights with 
 Jimmy Wylde over that." 
 
 "Tell about it," urged Jane, squeezing herself 
 down beside me in the hammock, "please tell." 
 
 Herbert smiled good-naturedly at the child. "You 
 must know, Cousin Janey," he said, glancing at me, 
 
 132
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "that, as a child, your sister Theo was a gay coquette 
 doubtless she has changed " 
 
 "Yes," interrupted Jane, sighing profoundly, "she's 
 had to, since she's married." 
 
 "You regret the necessity?" asked Herbert, quickly. 
 
 "Yes," said Jane, sighing again. "I ought not to, 
 but 'twas so amusing. My mother always said Theo 
 flirted artistically, yet was so unconscious of her 
 power, and so horrified by what she'd done, that she 
 was funny. I know that by heart, Mummy said it so 
 often Go on about Jim, please." 
 
 "James Wylde," said Herbert, obediently, "was 
 devoted to Theo, and being told by someone the mean- 
 ing of her name, repeated it, proudly, to me." 
 
 "Yes," said Jane, "of course." 
 
 "I said," Herbert went on, slowly, "that God's gift, 
 then, was like the famous apple that set three god- 
 desses at loggerheads ; only, seeing Theo was the gift, 
 men, not women, would be set by the ears. I added 
 that she was, already, a little flirt; and Jim punched 
 my head with horrid promptitude." 
 
 "Who beat?" asked Jane, eagerly. 
 
 "James," said Herbert, gravely, "because he was 
 in deadly earnest and I wasn't." 
 
 I seized this opportunity to tell Herbert about poor 
 Jim, and of my earnest desire that he should return 
 home and amend his ways. 
 
 "I've seen him lately," said Herbert, gently, "and 
 put him in the way of earning his living." 
 
 "Bertie," I cried, "how nice of you ! Where is he ? 
 What is he doing?" 
 
 "Hadn't you better wait until he comes to tell you 
 himself?" was the kindly answer. "I don't want to 
 steal Jim's pleasure." 
 
 I was charmed with this evidence of Herbert's 
 goodness of heart. How greatly he had changed, and 
 as I had hoped he might. I looked at him affection- 
 
 133
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ately; I felt proud of my cousin. He returned my 
 approving smile, and asked Jane why she was pulling 
 my hair down. 
 
 "She's to be the Sleeping Beauty," Jane explained, 
 "but she's shy about having her hair hanging loose. 
 I guess you've seen her that way before, though, 
 Bertie." 
 
 Herbert smiled at the child's sudden adoption of 
 his nickname he seemed well pleased, and I liked 
 him the more for his evident desire to gain Janey's 
 approval. 
 
 "She wore it hanging loose when I knew her," he 
 said, "and once I saw it soaking wet." 
 
 "When?" cried Jane, all interest again. 
 
 "A cat," said Herbert, solemnly, "came to Braithe. 
 Theo said she wished it would go home. Anxious to 
 please, I popped it into a bag and, not knowing its 
 earthly home, went to the river to send it to Cat 
 Heaven, when Theo appeared on the scene." 
 
 "You wanted to drown it?" shrieked Jane. "Oh, 
 how awfully cruel!" 
 
 "So Dolly said," continued Herbert, "but I I beg 
 you will remember that I was but a rude, disagreeable 
 boy at the time " 
 
 "How old?" interrupted Jane. 
 
 "Oh! fifteen or sixteen," said Herbert. 
 
 "Old enough to have known better," commented 
 Jane. 
 
 "Yes," was the gentle answer, "you are quite right, 
 my little cousin. I went from bad to worse, too," 
 he continued, "for when Theo remonstrated, I heaved 
 the bag high and would have chucked it off the dock, 
 only " he broke off, stared, wide-eyed, at the child, 
 and added, "only something awful happened." 
 
 "Oh, what?" cried Janey. She was getting the 
 amusement that she longed for. 
 
 "Your beautiful sister," said Herbert, dramatically, 
 134
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "crying out, 'Then I'll drown, too!' flung herself head- 
 long into the water." 
 
 "O Theo!" gasped poor Jane. "How dared you?" 
 
 "The Gift of God, at present reclining so grace- 
 fully in the hammock," explained Herbert, teasingly, 
 "will dare anything when her blood is up that's the 
 reason Jim Wylde and I fell victims to her charms. 
 But listen to the end of this thrilling adventure. A 
 drowning girl especially when she happens to be 
 your own pretty cousin is much more interesting 
 than any cat, even if she hasn't nine lives to lose. 
 Jane, I tore off my coat, and plunged in to the rescue ! 
 Yes, I saved her! Now, don't you admire me?" 
 
 "No," said Jane, scowling, "and I'm glad I didn't 
 know you then." 
 
 "That was the first time Rappelle saw you, wasn't 
 it, Dolly? Gracious, what a fury you looked, shaking 
 your wet mane at me and stamping your foot ! When 
 he and Uncle Braithe appeared on the scene you 
 scrambled up the bank, I remember, like the cat I 
 had tried to drown, and disappeared." 
 
 I sat up in the hammock. "Etienne saw me?" 
 I exclaimed. "You must be mistaken, Bertie. Why, 
 
 I never saw him until " I stopped short. I had 
 
 no wish to speak of my indecently hasty marriage. 
 
 "I'm not mistaken," persisted my cousin. "I'm 
 not likely to forget that interview, since, though short, 
 it was intense. Lilian, I remember, had kindly 
 rushed to the house to inform her dear papa of our 
 little affair. She also released the incarcerated tab- 
 by; not from kindness toward animals, but from hatred 
 of cousins. Figuratively speaking, Lilian is partial to 
 that amusement." 
 
 "What amusement?" demanded Jane. 
 
 "The letting of cats out of bags, dear child." 
 
 "Yes," assented Jane, sighing, "that's so." 
 
 I was hurriedly going over the incidents of that 
 135
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 past morning ; searching, searching, for a memory of 
 my father's companion. I could find none, remember- 
 ing only that Mr. Braithe had not come to the dock 
 alone. Blinded by angry tears, as well as river water, 
 I had seen no one distinctly save Herbert, my hated 
 enemy of the moment. Etienne, I decided, had no 
 more recollection of the childish squabble than I of 
 his presence. 
 
 "Theo," said Herbert, suddenly, "if it's not a rude 
 question, may I know if Mr. Rappelle holds the secrets 
 of the House?" 
 
 By this he meant a knowledge of the By-Ways. 
 "No" I said, "you forget that I alone have that 
 right." 
 
 "I thought you might have told him; that he might 
 have asked." 
 
 "Etienne respects the old traditions," I said, 
 gravely. 
 
 "Old rot, to my thinking, Dolly." 
 
 "Yes," I assented, "but I am under oath." 
 
 "Unless a Braithe be in dire need," said Herbert, 
 smiling. 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 "Creepy, crawly, dreadful, Braithe secrets," said 
 Jane, shivering. "Sometimes at night I imagine I 
 hear garments flutter-fluttering, or finger-nails scrape- 
 scraping, behind the walls of my room; as if some aw- 
 ful thing were trying to find its way through those 
 dark, narrow passages, into the house ah!" 
 
 "Come," I said, hastily, "if I'm to be a Sleeping 
 Princess, it's time you to went to work, Missy. My 
 hair-pins are not all out yet." 
 
 "To be sure," said the child, forgetting her night- 
 mares. "If you'd be kind enough to bring me what 
 I want from the house, Cousin Herbert? or wait, 
 I'll go with you." 
 
 The two walked away hand in hand. The Chev- 
 136
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 alier, roused from his nap beneath my hammock, 
 blinked lazily, disapprovingly, at this trotting about 
 in hot weather, and, resettling himself, drowsed again. 
 
 It was a drowsy morning. The blue of the heavens 
 was soft and misty, the few sunbeams, that made their 
 way through the thickly leaved branches of the old 
 trees, were not too dazzling; while the little south 
 breeze seemed to be playing hide and seek in the 
 canopy of greenery above me ; so often did it cease its 
 rustling and appear to hold its breath. The soft 
 warmth brought out the delicious fragrance of the 
 roses, the very air was steeped in sweetness. Through 
 the stillness came the gentle sound of diminutive 
 wavelets, cooing a faint lullaby along the shore. 
 
 I was almost asleep, when an indignant Frenchman 
 bounced through the opening in the hedge. "When 
 I saw the fierce twist of La Girouette of Monsieur 
 Randoce, I knew that I had really offended him; so 
 I hastened to speak first, and smiled a welcome at the 
 angry man, as I said how good it was of him to come 
 and look me up. 
 
 "First Mr. Rappelle kept me talking of household 
 matters, in the library," I explained, "and then Janey 
 brought me out here. But I am glad I broke my 
 appointment it is too warm for you to work; do sit 
 down." 
 
 With an odd, bewildered expression in his fine dark 
 eyes, Monsieur Randoce dropped into the chair Her- 
 bert had vacated, and seemed at a loss for words. 
 
 I had a sincere liking for Monsieur Randoce; his 
 geniality, his desire to please everyone with whom he 
 chanced to be thrown, his good manners, and his 
 really great talent as an artist, made him a delightful 
 companion. Then, too, I felt grateful for the relief 
 from overstrained nerves that I had found in his 
 studio in town. His nonsense, I had long since de- 
 cided, was but surface nonsense; so I showed my 
 
 137
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 liking, my friendly liking, plainly, never dreaming of 
 being misunderstood. 
 
 "She is not here, the leetle sister?" he asked, at last, 
 in his quaint way. I liked his accent, and his mistakes. 
 
 I explained where she had gone and for what pur- 
 pose, and had hardly ceased speaking when Janey and 
 Herbert, laughing, chatting, and appearing to have 
 made great strides in intimacy since leaving me, re- 
 turned. Monsieur Randoce, eying me suspiciously, 
 said, fiercely: 
 
 "You did not mention heem!" 
 
 "Bertie?" I said, carelessly. "Oh, no! Bertie 
 doesn't count he's nothing but a cousin, Monsieur 
 Randoce." 
 
 "Who doesn't count, Dolly?" asked Herbert, the 
 sharpness of whose ears had tried me often before. 
 
 "You don't," I said, a trifle crossly. 
 
 "There, Jane, what did I tell you?" said Herbert, 
 in his sunniest way. "Of course I can play Prince. 
 Why can't Monsieur Randoce do the reading part? 
 Good English lesson, I'm sure." 
 
 "The very thing," cried Jane. She looked happy, 
 even joyous. I felt grateful to Herbert, who had 
 worked this charm, and allowed him to spread an 
 elaborately embroidered table-cover of ruby satin over 
 me, without grumbling. 
 
 "The book says," quoth small Jane, opening a vol- 
 ume of Tennyson's poems that Herbert had dropped 
 on the grass, 
 
 ' The silk star-broidered coverlid,' 
 
 but we couldn't find one, so this will have to do. It 
 ought to be purple, but there isn't one in the house- 
 this came from the library; Etienne won't mind. 
 Wait a minute, Bertie; oh, here we are, 
 
 ' The maiden's jet-black hair has grown,' 
 and so forth. 
 
 138
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 ' Forth streaming from a braid of pearl ' 
 
 Herbert, give me the pearls, please," and taking my 
 long string of pearls from one of Herbert's pockets, 
 she wound them in and out among my loosened locks, 
 patting hair, table-cover, and me into shape. Then, 
 returning to her book, read, seeking instruction: 
 
 ' Glows forth each softly shadowed arm 
 With bracelets of the diamond bright.' 
 
 Now the bracelets, Herbert" and I was further 
 adorned. "Shut your eyes, Theo, and pretend you're 
 asleep ah! isn't she lovely? O my Theo, I wish you 
 could see yourself! You're too sweet! stop, stop, 
 you mustn't smile like that, every dimple shows; do 
 stop. Please, Monsieur Randoce, will you read, so 
 that Herbert can play Prince nicely? See, here it 
 says: 
 
 ' He stoops to kiss her on his knee.' " 
 
 "No," interrupted Monsieur Randoce, "no, I weel 
 not read!" 
 
 "Dear me!" exclaimed Jane. "Why, I believe 
 you're angry." 
 
 Herbert laughed. Monsieur Randoce sprang from 
 his chair and walked quickly away. Herbert laughed 
 again. 
 
 "Theodora Gift of God!" he said, softly. 
 
 "He's coming back!" interrupted Jane; then, with 
 an exclamation of relief, "No, it's Etienne!" She ran 
 to meet him, pouring out her story of Monsieur Ran- 
 doce's strange and sudden wrath, the scene to be 
 played, and, at last, of her delight in his Etienne's 
 coming. "For now we can go on. Herbert will make 
 a beautiful Prince, don't you think?" 
 
 "No, no," said Herbert, hastily, "I'll read now, 
 and Rappelle shall be Prince." 
 
 139
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "I'm too old and ugly," said Etienne. "Don't 
 let me change anything play your parts out, I 
 beg." 
 
 "You're not old and you're not ugly," said small 
 Jane, slowly, "but you do not look like a fairy Prince, 
 Etienne. Still, you could really kiss the Princess, 
 while Bertie would have to pretend." 
 
 "Oh," said Etienne, "so I might really give the 
 real Princess a real kiss, though I'm not a real 
 Prince?" 
 
 "We might let the Princess choose," said Herbert, 
 in an expressionless voice; "but no, I forgot, prin- 
 cesses never choose, do they? The giving of their 
 kisses is arranged for them." 
 
 "Do they have to stand smothering to order?" I 
 asked, lightly, flinging aside my silk covering, and 
 sitting up. "Janey, I'm too warm for comfort. 
 Mayn't I twist up my hair?" 
 
 "Passionate, slumbrous waves of hair!" said the 
 child, looking at me dreamily. "Theo always makes 
 me think of marble courtyards, with orange-trees, 
 and pomegranate flowers, and silvery fountains or 
 of moonlit nights on old stone balconies, with swinging 
 passion-flowers! Where is the Gypsy's Opal, the 
 Hungarian opal, Theo? Mother said if ever you 
 wore it, it would be the tell-tale of your heart." 
 
 I took it from my arm and gave it into the little 
 hand. I could not speak; since when my baby sister 
 talked thus strangely, showing so plainly her unlike- 
 ness to other young creatures, the pain in my 
 heart held me dumb. The two men were as silent 
 as I. 
 
 "Queer old Eternity!" said the child, smoothing 
 with one small finger the dull gold snake that en- 
 circled the gem. "He never looks tired of being on 
 guard. I'd hate to watch and ward all the time, 
 wouldn't you, Etienne?" 
 
 140
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF. BRAITHE 
 
 "That would depend upon the value of the jewel 
 I guarded, Janey." 
 
 "Is that the morning paper I see sticking out of 
 your pocket, Rappelle?" asked Herbert, irrelevantly. 
 "Any news?" 
 
 "More about the latest horror, that's all," was the 
 answer. 
 
 "I know what that was," said Jane, her dreamy 
 manner changing into one of alertness. "I heard 
 the servants talking about it; a hotel set on fire by 
 wicked thieves I've prayed God to make a hell to 
 roast them in." 
 
 "Janey!" I cried, horrified. 
 
 "Yes, Theo, because you think there isn't any 
 hell. Not an old-fashioned, hot-as-hot, fire-and-brim- 
 stone hell; you know you said so; and what Hervey 
 says is true, those men ought to be roasted slowly. 
 Old fashions always come up again, Mrs. Gill says, 
 and I hope that's true about the old-fashioned bad 
 place." 
 
 "Dear me ! What a severe little cousin," said Her- 
 bert, smiling. "You give poor sinners short shrift and 
 a high gallows." 
 
 "Why, don't you think them devils, Cousin Her- 
 bert?" 
 
 "I think," said Herbert, stroking the child's golden 
 hair caressingly, "that these particular devils may not 
 be so black as the newspapers paint them. I hope 
 that these reports may not be true." 
 
 I smiled approval at Herbert as I tucked up my 
 hair; he had grown so it seemed to me into a 
 broad-minded man, looking for good, and hoping to 
 find it, in all. 
 
 "I believe in this last report," said Etienne, looking 
 at Herbert, an expression of great kindliness in his 
 long dark eyes, "though I dare say you'll wish to deny 
 its truth." 
 
 141
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 So saying, he unfolded the newspaper and held it 
 up so that we might see the two pictures on the open 
 page, and above them in large type, these head-lines: 
 
 "BKAVE ACT OF UNKNOWN HEKO." 
 
 The upper picture was but the photograph of a 
 very handsome man; the one below showed a man 
 lowering, by means of a long rope, a woman with 
 a child in her arms from the fourth-story window of a 
 burning building. The man was Herbert Fayne. 
 
 As I turned, in delight, from the pictured Herbert 
 to congratulate the real one I was surprised by his 
 expression of annoyance. As our eyes met he paled 
 suddenly, and muttered something under his breath 
 that sounded like an oath. Etienne smiled. 
 
 "I thought as much," he said, kindly, "but some 
 have glory thrust upon them. You'll have to bear 
 the burden of your bravery, Fayne. I wish you'd 
 tell us about this experience; as an exhibition of 
 strength, alone, it was remarkable." 
 
 "I suppose some infernal kodak fiend must have 
 been among the crowd," grumbled Herbert, surveying 
 the pictures with profound disgust. "Thank Heaven, 
 they haven't got my name, anyway." 
 
 Then, unwillingly, and as briefly as possible, he 
 told us of that night of horror. He had not been stop- 
 ping in the doomed hotel or, indeed, in the town at 
 all; but, waiting at the railway station for a train 
 the mere necessity of changing cars had kept him 
 there for an hour had heard the alarm of fire, and 
 had gone with the crowd to the burning building. Of 
 his untiring efforts to save life, of his carelessness of 
 personal danger, of the many poor creatures who owed 
 their escape from torture to him, he would say nothing. 
 But he did not need to the newspapers spoke for 
 him. 
 
 142
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Did you shave off your mustache so that people 
 might not find you out?" demanded Jane, her eyes 
 big with excitement, as she stared solemnly at this 
 wonderful cousin. 
 
 Herbert looked at the child oddly for a moment, 
 almost as if he disliked her. 
 
 "Hardly, Janey," he said, at last; then, evidently 
 anxious to change the subject, he told her to clasp my 
 opal about my throat. "You might lose it," he added, 
 "and it's worth more than most such gems." 
 
 "There aren't many of them," said Jane, as she 
 obeyed him. "Lilian and I went to two big jewel 
 shops in town and we saw only one Hungarian opal, 
 and that wasn't a patch on Theo's. Lilian priced 
 almost all the jewels in the shops she said a friend 
 had asked her to, such nonsense and the man showed 
 us Australian opals; they look like crushed rainbows, 
 every color showing together; but the Hungarian 
 now, look at Theo's. Only one color, or perhaps two, 
 at a time, a green light chasing a blue, or red, across 
 the surface. Do you know," dropping her voice, and 
 glancing around as though about to reveal a weighty 
 secret, "I believe a fairy lives in each opal like Theo's, 
 and peers out at the world through that strange milky 
 veil. When the fairy loves the person to whom her 
 opal belongs she feels just as the person does, and, 
 quick as a flash, lights up colored lamps inside to suit 
 her feelings; turns 'em up, turns 'em down, and some- 
 times, when her person is dreadfully unhappy, turns 
 them out." 
 
 "May Theo's fairy always feel gay," said Herbert, 
 brightly. "Come, little Jane, let's carry her Lady's 
 pearls back to the house." He picked up book and 
 table-cover, and held out his hand for the pearls, but 
 Etienne begged me to keep them on, and the brace- 
 lets. 
 
 "Then I'll carry you, Jane," said Herbert; "you are 
 143
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Theo's biggest pearl, and her brightest diamond, aren't 
 you?" 
 
 "Better say I'm her pigeon-blood ruby," said Jane, 
 accepting his offer with gratitude. "Lilian priced one 
 of them there was only one and the cost was awful. 
 You must have loads of money, Etienne, for Lilian 
 said Theo's ruby was way ahead of the one in the 
 shop." 
 
 "Yes," said Etienne, looking at the newspaper he 
 still held, "I have money, little Jane, and it does buy 
 rubies." 
 
 "And amusements," added Jane, waving her hand 
 to us as Herbert walked off with her in his arms; "all 
 sorts of amusements, too." 
 
 I had a cowardly desire to run after Herbert and 
 Jane, but feeling that it would be rude to Etienne to 
 leave him he made no motion toward following the 
 others I sat still. He seemed in no haste to break 
 the silence, although he evidently did not care to read 
 the paper that he still held, mechanically, in his hand, 
 but occupied himself by looking at me. Finally I 
 grew too much embarrassed for comfort, and spoke 
 myself: 
 
 "So you did not go to Hilltown, after all, Etienne ?" 
 
 "No," he said, "I went back to my desk and made 
 out a list of people I should like to have visit us, 
 if you don't object. I have divided them into three 
 sets making three house-parties through the sum- 
 mer." He drew his chair up to my hammock and 
 took from his breast-pocket a folded paper. 
 
 "I'm not quite sure we ought to entertain, Etienne," 
 I said, timidly, not liking to cross him. 
 
 "Why not?" he asked, in surprise. 
 
 "Because " I began, and stopped short. 
 
 "Because you are in mourning, Theo? Nonsense, 
 brides are not expected to shut themselves up, and 
 Lilian is too young to be dull. She has been pale and 
 
 144
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 out of sorts since she left town. Now, will you look 
 at these lists?" There were three. "I've headed 
 them Fast, Fine, and Firm." 
 
 I asked an explanation. 
 
 "Well," said Etienne, "I had to divide them in 
 some way, and I thought that instead of mixing people 
 up, as in ordinary social functions, we'd have those 
 of congenial tastes together. By fast, I mean merely 
 some of the gayest members of the, so-called, smart 
 set I want you to meet everybody in the swim, Theo 
 and these I have selected are either amusing or 
 agreeable." 
 
 "Very gay people generally are agreeable, Etienne ; 
 they are so delightfully jolly." 
 
 "Too jolly, sometimes," he said, a trifle grimly, "but 
 I'll see that your guests' spirits don't run away with 
 them. The fine set are dull, only wanting society for 
 the sake of showing their fine feathers ; the firm the 
 firm, Theo, are like you, I think; well-born, well- 
 behaved, but with an inborn love of gayety that carries 
 them among the gay." 
 
 He looked keenly at me; I looked across the river. 
 
 "You and your opal are blushing together, Theo," 
 he said, softly. "Where is the great red rose I saw 
 in your hair?" 
 
 "Where indeed?" I cried, seizing the first excuse to 
 leave the hammock under the pretence of looking for 
 my flower. The Chevalier jumping up, too, showed 
 the wilted leaves of the rich red blossom strewn upon 
 the grass where he had lain. 
 
 "Crumpled rose leaves don't mar your slumbers, 
 wicked dog!" I cried, patting my favorite. "Etienne, 
 I must run now and make myself presentable for 
 luncheon." 
 
 He rose unwillingly, and we returned to the house. 
 On the way he spoke admiringly of Herbert, of his 
 splendid bravery. My answers were perfunctory and 
 
 145
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 cold, for an unworthy suspicion was creeping into my 
 heart, that Herbert had, enjoying the excitement, but 
 saved life as Braithes save lives with the crowd ap- 
 plauding, and the delightful thrill that danger brings 
 repaying him for every fresh effort. I was ashamed, 
 very much ashamed, of my ungenerous thoughts, but 
 banish them I could not, strive as I might. 
 
 146
 
 XV 
 
 Although our invitations were sent out rather late, 
 we received but few regrets. Two days before the 
 Fourth of July the house was crowded with visitors. 
 We began with those on Etienne's first list, headed 
 "Fast." 
 
 Lilian had taken the news of the coming gayety 
 dully; I was surprised by the little amount of interest 
 shown. Herbert, on the contrary, was delighted. 
 "Now I may hope to see something of you, Dora," he 
 had said. Janey enjoyed the bustle and life the new 
 arrivals brought to Braithe, but she soon began to 
 worry about her friend Mr. Brace. 
 
 "He gives me an agitated stomach," she complained. 
 "I'm growing attached to him, he's so really nice and 
 not stuck on himself; and I'm so deadly afraid he'll 
 say something to make these people laugh at him. 
 Might I give him a hint, do you think, not to talk 
 when they're 'round?" 
 
 "Don't fret, Jane," I said. "They are well-bred 
 people; they won't laugh at him." 
 
 "Well-bred, Theo! What do you think of Mrs. 
 Freddy Love ? Cussing, yes, really cussing, my dear." 
 
 I had for the moment forgotten this gay young per- 
 son, a pretty, tall girl, with big brown eyes, and a 
 quantity of fair hair that she wore in a mop of short 
 fluffiness, in order to increase her likeness to the fasci- 
 nating Rosina Yokes; a resemblance of which she was 
 very proud. Her language was strange as Janey 
 had remarked and I sometimes thought, an affecta- 
 tion. Her husband, Freddy Love, found her amusing, 
 
 147
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 and was always encouraging her outbursts of profanity 
 with peals of laughter. 
 
 We had as guests, besides this couple, Mrs. de 
 Longue Allenby, a handsome woman with two pretty 
 daughters; Mrs. Allenby 's devoted attendant, Major 
 O'Leary; Billy Bandhar, a tall, awkward, very dull, 
 but rich, young man-about-town ; Ralph Carrington, a 
 handsome young Virginian; and a few others. A 
 pleasant, lively set of people on the whole. I enjoyed 
 their gayety. 
 
 June had been rainy, and Etienne, hearing that a 
 beautiful waterfall in the neighborhood was, because 
 of this, particularly well worth seeing, proposed a pic- 
 nic on the Fourth. We were to eat our luncheon near 
 the waterfall, and return home early enough to escape 
 the usual late afternoon Fourth of July thunder-storm. 
 The morning was fine but hot, and the women of the 
 party appeared in their most filmy muslins, the men in 
 white duck and thin flannels. At the last moment, 
 when the parties in the different wagons had been 
 arranged to everybody's satisfaction, Mrs. Love jumped 
 from her seat beside Herbert, and, running up to me, 
 begged me to exchange with her. 
 
 "I want to sit beside Rappelle ; I love to drive four- 
 in-hand," she said, shaking her mop of fair curls and 
 smiling. "But I'm not goin' to do the flirtation act, 
 not a damn flirt; so you needn't be scared. Honor 
 among thieves you know, Mrs. R. !" And amid 
 laughter, and cries of "Do as you would be done by! 
 Do you catch on, Freddy, my boy?" and much non- 
 sense, I did as she wished, and we started. 
 
 Herbert drove a double dog-cart. In the back seat 
 were Lilian (charmingly pretty in her white frock and 
 big black hat) and Ralph Carrington. That he was 
 deeply smitten by the fair beauty of his companion 
 was very evident, and her pleasure in his society was 
 shown by the soft pink flush in her usually pale cheeks. 
 
 .148
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I liked the young Virginian, his frank, gay manner 
 and handsome dark face. I fear I am something of 
 a match-maker, for as I looked at the two I thought 
 what a handsome couple they would make. 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, Theo!" said Herbert, 
 who was driving very slowly, because of the heat, he 
 insisted. I could not earn the penny, my thoughts 
 being unrevealable. 
 
 "What a nice little woman Nelly Love is, Theo," 
 was his next remark. 
 
 "I wonder you think so, when she left you for 
 Etienne." 
 
 "My suggestion, my dear child." 
 
 "Your suggestion, Bertie? What do you mean?" 
 
 "Simply that she bores me and you -don't." 
 
 "Why do you blow hot and cold, Bertie, and talk 
 nonsense that doesn't deceive me? One minute you 
 pretend you like her, the next not. Please don't be 
 such a goose; and drive faster, or I'll take the reins 
 myself, and probably upset you," and I laughed. 
 
 "You've done that already, Dolly," he said, under 
 his breath, as he whipped up the horses. I laughed 
 again. 
 
 "Poor Bertie!" I said; "balked of his flirtation with 
 gay Mrs. Love, and forced to keep his hand in with 
 his country cousin. There, don't beat the poor horses. 
 Because I don't want to crawl, that doesn't mean I 
 want to run away." 
 
 "I wish you did," he grumbled. I stared at him. 
 He was really out of humor. Sorry that he had felt 
 Mrs. Love's desertion as a snub, before so many peo- 
 ple, too, I laid my hand gently upon his arm, and tried 
 to soothe his wounded vanity. 
 
 "Don't be cross with me, Bertie," I whispered. "I 
 like to see my handsome cousin always sunshiny. I'll 
 manage so that you shall drive home the prettiest girl 
 of the lot. Choose shall it be Elsie Allenby?" 
 
 149
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Japanese girl in a tea-garden," was the sharp 
 answer. 
 
 "Well, Mabel then." 
 
 "Pretty viper, lifting her small head to strike." 
 
 "Perhaps the mother might suit you better, Bertie. 
 She is handsome, and a widow." 
 
 "A widow, Theo? Yes, through the divorce court." 
 
 "What!" I exclaimed; "a divorcee 1 ! O Herbert!" 
 
 "May we hear the cause of your excitement, Theo, 
 dear?" asked Lilian, leaning forward from the back 
 seat. 
 
 "Theo didn't know Mrs. de Longue Allenby had 
 slipped the noose matrimonial, that's all," explained 
 Herbert, "and your sister, being a good Episcopalian, 
 is properly shocked." 
 
 "Then you don't believe in divorce, Mrs. Rappelle ?" 
 said young Carrington, eagerly, leaning forward in 
 his turn. 
 
 "No," I said, shortly. "If Mr. Allenby was cruel, 
 and wicked, of course his wife ought to have been 
 separated from him; but divorced never!" 
 
 "He wasn't cruel," drawled Herbert, "or wicked. 
 She happened to prefer O'Leary that was all. The 
 joke of it is that now she's got rid of Allenby, O'Leary 
 can't marry her." 
 
 "Why not?" asked Lilian. 
 
 "Because his wife won't let him. He can't divorce 
 her and she won't divorce him," said Herbert, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 "Is she so fond of him, Bertie?" I could not under- 
 stant the wife's affection. 
 
 "No, my foolish cousin, not fond but furious. She 
 pays him out that way." 
 
 "I call it disgusting, the way married people 
 change partners now, as if marriage were a dance," 
 said Mr. Carrington, hotly. "It ought to be put a 
 stop to." 
 
 150
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "Wait till you fall in love, old fellow," said Herbert, 
 smiling, "then you'll change your tune." 
 
 "I hope I may fall in love without poaching on other 
 men's preserves," was the answer. "I'd sooner hang 
 myself than marry a divorcee" 
 
 "Fine speeches!" sneered Herbert. "Wait till the 
 lightning strikes. When your turn comes you'll do as 
 others have done get the woman you love, by hook 
 or by crook." 
 
 "Mr. Carrington may say," I said, quickly, "as some 
 already have: 
 
 " I could not love thee, dear, so much, 
 Loved I not honor more. " 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Rappelle," cried Carrington. "It 
 is very pleasant to be understood. And you," drop- 
 ping his voice and turning to Lilian, "you agree with 
 your sister, I feel sure." 
 
 Lilian had lost her pretty color; pale, with eyes cast 
 down, she sat motionless, as if not interested in the 
 conversation. 
 
 "Do you agree with Theo, and with Carrington, 
 Lilian?" asked Herbert, suddenly turning in his seat, 
 and looking searchingly at her. 
 
 "I don't know," she said, very gently; "I hate find- 
 ing fault with the poor naughty people. It is so hard 
 to be a saint so easy to be a sinner. Let us all pray 
 that we may never be tempted." 
 
 As Herbert readjusted himself our eyes met. A 
 derisive gleam shot from his. "Does the goody-goody 
 trick neatly, doesn't she, Dolly? Simple Simon is 
 gulled no end." 
 
 "Hush, Bertie!" 
 
 "O my Theo, noble-hearted! There, I won't say 
 another word. This is the gate we turn in, isn't it? 
 I remember it from the time we came here together 
 
 151
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 as children," and he began to sing "Auld Lang 
 Syne." 
 
 The horses broke into a swift trot, and in a few mo- 
 ments we had entered the little wood, where the others 
 of the party were already assembled. Etienne, com- 
 ing quickly forward, lifted me from the wagon. He 
 looked rather grave. 
 
 "You are late," he said. 
 
 "You mustn't scold Theo, Etienne," said Lilian, 
 sweetly. "She and Bertie began on their reminis- 
 cences and forgot about time. I hadn't the heart to 
 , remind them it was my fault." 
 
 That she was paying me out, as she would have said, 
 for something I had done or left undone was evi- 
 dent; but for what, rack my brains as I might, I could 
 not imagine. 
 
 "We are to lunch under those trees," said Etienne, 
 nodding toward the chosen spot, "and walk to see the 
 cascade later." 
 
 "Yes," chimed in Mrs. Love, coming up, "such an 
 infernal noise when you're near it, you can't hear 
 yourself burble. Bracy-pacy and I galloped up there 
 just now my hind-legs ache yet, we trotted along so 
 hard. Say, Mrs. Theo, may I peel the hard-boilers? 
 You owe me a good turn, yon know" in a whisper; 
 then, raising her voice again, "I've never had a big 
 enough go at 'em in my life." 
 
 "Hard-boilers?" I questioned. 
 
 "Yes, child, yes hard-boiled eggs. I love to peel 
 the shells off; may I?" 
 
 "We have a throne for the queen of the fete," said 
 Monsieur Randoce, in French, as he joined us. "Be- 
 hold then!" pointing toward a pile of cushions, heaped 
 at the foot of a great tree. "And a crown of ferns 
 and roses for the most beautiful!" He bowed low 
 as he finished his little speech. 
 
 "Oh, you absurd old Parlez-Vous!" cried Mrs. Love, 
 152
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 with her gay laugh. "Can't you trot it out in plain 
 American? Or don't you want me to understand?" 
 and she ran away. 
 
 The Frenchman smiled deprecatingly, and spread 
 out his hands. "A good heart, doubtless but!" he 
 ended with a shrug of the shoulders. His black mus- 
 tache hung a-droop, signifying that Monsieur Randoce 
 was melancholy, and I knew that he felt aggrieved be- 
 cause Herbert had been my Jehu. Anxious that all 
 should enjoy the day, I hastened to admire his ar- 
 rangement of the cushions, and taking off my hat, 
 submitted to being crowned with his pretty wreath. 
 This cheered him, and he straightway curled his mus- 
 tache gayly upward his spirits having grown high. 
 
 All had voted for an old-fashioned picnic ; the cloth 
 to be spread on the grass, and everything, save the 
 ices, to be put on it at once. It had been suggested 
 that we should wait upon each other, but this Etienne 
 had vetoed, saying too much spilling would be the 
 result. 
 
 "I told that prime old hen, my pearl of a Merle, to 
 lay no end of eggs," said Mrs. Love, surveying the 
 feast. "Heavens, what a pile ! Here, you Brace, come 
 sit beside me and feed me, while I work for the crowd. 
 I'll pin on your bib." 
 
 So saying, she pushed Mr. Brace to my sur- 
 prise nowise unwilling down upon the cushions be- 
 side her, and pinned a napkin firmly around his neck. 
 
 "Isn't he too cunning for anything!" she said, con- 
 templating, with great complacency, the innocent face 
 of little Mr. Brace, blushing pinkly above his napkin. 
 "He's so infernally pious he's bound to keep me 
 straight, aren't you, Bracy? Don't he look like the 
 dearest, puffiest little cherub you ever saw? He ought 
 to have wings ! Give me some white paper, somebody, 
 quick." 
 
 Hervey, amused, though disapproving, found some; 
 153
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 and straightway Mr. Brace had a pair of ragged wings 
 hanging down his back. 
 
 "Floppy, of course, ladies and gentlemen," cried 
 Mrs. Love, with the air of a showman, "because his 
 spirits are low; wait till he gets some champagne 
 aboard " winking at me, "then you'll see these wings 
 rise up and flutter! I'll pin him to my hat then, like 
 a beautiful butterfly, to keep him steady. Now then, 
 a bite of that sandwich, please, and I'll to work." She 
 drew the dish of eggs toward her and began to shell 
 them with great energy, Mr. Brace feeding her with 
 whatever she demanded. 
 
 Mrs. Love was very well born, and because of her 
 blue blood her vagaries of speech and behavior were 
 tolerated. "It's only Nelly's way," her friends said. 
 Mrs. Allenby, gentle, dignified, with a charming se- 
 renity of manner, looked on with amiable amusement 
 as Mrs. Love diverted herself. I wished Herbert had 
 not told me of Mrs. Allenby's divorce. I wondered if 
 there might not be extenuating circumstances. She 
 was so very attractive. Then I saw Major O'Leary 
 attending to her wants with an air of accustomed de- 
 votion, and looked away with a sensation of disgust. 
 As I did so I caught Etienne's eye; he smiled kindly 
 at me across the table-cloth. I wondered of what he 
 was thinking. 
 
 "I had a letter all about you yesterday, Mrs. Rap- 
 pelle," said Miss Mabel Allenby, during a lull in the 
 conversation. "It was from Bella Acton; do you re- 
 member her?" 
 
 "Yes indeed, very well. She was so pretty where 
 is she now?" 
 
 "And her brother, James Acton, do you remember 
 him, too?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "She says you jilted him, Mrs. Rappelle, because 
 he was poor but of course I don't believe that one 
 
 154
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 bit. It was a cross, horrid letter, dear Mrs. Rappelle." 
 with a sweet, sad little smile, "and I am most angry 
 with Bella. The idea of saying you were en- 
 gaged to two men at once! To her brother, and to 
 some other horrid man. It's really too bad of her, and 
 I shall tell her so." Miss Allenby pouted, and looked 
 gracefully severe. 
 
 "Makes you out a regular Mormon, doesn't she, 
 Mrs. Rappelle ?" cried Nelly Love, still busy with the 
 eggs, though the salad had been reached. "Awfully 
 nice of you to repeat what Bella Act-like-the-Devil 
 wrote, Mabel, it interests us all so much. Talking of 
 Mormons, do you suppose a man can be in love with 
 a dozen wives at a time? What do you think, Bracy?" 
 
 "I don't see why not," said Mr. Brace, gently, star- 
 ing patiently around at us all through his eye-glasses. 
 "Of course Mormonism is a dreadful sin, but when it 
 comes to loving why, if a man has six or seven chil- 
 dren he can love them all dearly, so why not six or 
 seven wives?" 
 
 The dead silence, that had lasted during this re- 
 markable speech, was ended in a storm of laughter 
 and wild applause. The men roared and shouted as if 
 they would never have done, and the women giggled 
 delightedly. 
 
 "Listen to the little parson," yelled the men. "Hear 
 him interpret the Law and the Prophets!" 
 
 Poor Mr. Brace was scarlet with confusion, and 
 Janey's misery was painful to witness. The child's 
 eyes were full of tears. 
 
 "Talking of jilting," said Billy Bandhar, solemnly, 
 as the tempest of mirth subsided, "talking of jilting, 
 I say, I hope Folsom Figgers will come to his senses, 
 and jilt the girl he's been fool enough to engage him- 
 self to, before she marries him." 
 
 Mr. Bandhar was eating lobster salad and rasp- 
 berry jam, in alternate bites; he said the combination 
 
 155
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 was new and delightful. He crouched cross-legged on 
 a mat, a huge plate of the salad just in front of him, 
 the jam-pot beside it. This was his first effort at con- 
 versation heretofore he had been absorbed in ab- 
 sorbing. 
 
 "What's the matter with his girl?" asked Freddy 
 Love. 
 
 "Poor," said Mr. Bandhar, still more solemnly, 
 "very poor! If," he continued, poising a large mass 
 of salad on his fork, preparatory to stuffing it into 
 his mouth, "if I were, in a moment of insanity, to 
 offer to marry a poor girl, I hope I should fall dead 
 on the way to the altar." 
 
 "Oh, you coward!" cried Mrs. Love, picking up an 
 olive from a dish beside her, and throwing it at him 
 with great force, and an appalling accuracy of aim. 
 "You'd flinch, would you?" another olive. "Why, 
 what girl would be damn-fool enough to want to run 
 in double harness with you?" 
 
 "Stop her, Freddy!" yelled the wretched Bandhar, 
 scrambling to his feet, and overturning salad plate 
 and jam-pot, "she's ruinin' my clothes. Speak to her, 
 can't you?" 
 
 But Freddy, limp with laughter, only cried, "Go 
 it, Nell, go it!" 
 
 Mrs. Love, jumping up in her turn, seized the dish 
 of olives and using them as a child would snow- 
 balls pursued her victim; who, entreating and ex- 
 postulating by turns, dodged her as best he might 
 among the trees. The men encouraged Nelly with 
 applause and delighted yells of approval. As for me, 
 I leaned my head back against my tree-trunk and 
 laughed till I cried; Mr. Bandhar's terror was so 
 ridiculously real. 
 
 Etienne, at last, taking pity upon the forlorn man, 
 called the crowd to order, and Mr. Bandhar was 
 soothed, and comforted with champagne. 
 
 156
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 "You are a Southerner, Mr. Fayne, ees eet not so?" 
 asked Monsieur Randoce, good-naturedly trying to di- 
 vert people's attention from Bandhar, who was on the 
 verge of tears. 
 
 "No such luck," said Herbert, smiling. "When 
 I'm North I only wish I were." 
 
 "Why?" asked Mabel Allenby, curiously. 
 
 "Because then I'd be everybody's darling. Look at 
 Carrington, that F. F. V. don't you all dote on him? 
 He is picturesque, don't you see, with a Lost Cause, 
 and a romantic background of slaves. I'm nothing 
 but a poor Yankee, quite out of the fashion. The 
 Southerners have the soft snap up here nowadays. 
 The only way I'm in the swim at all is because I'm 
 cousin to the Braithes," and he smiled at me. 
 
 "A near cousin?" questioned Mabel, still more 
 curiously. 
 
 "In every sense of the word yes," was the quiet 
 answer. 
 
 Miss Allenby laughed disagreeably. 
 
 "Let us go and look at the waterfall," I said, rising. 
 I was displeased with Herbert. What did he mean 
 by talking so foolishly, by his sentimental glances and 
 meaning smiles? An outsider might have supposed 
 from his manner that he and I had been lovers in the 
 past, instead of a pair of constantly squabbling chil- 
 dren. There was such a thing as carrying a joke too 
 far, if he intended one. I felt I must give him a talk- 
 ing to. He joined me as I strolled, with the others, 
 up the wooded hill. Janey was on his shoulder. 
 
 "Bertie is carrying me because I'm a-weary, yes, 
 body and soul," said poor little Jane. 
 
 "Carefully, Bert," I said, forgetting his misdeeds in 
 my fear lest he let the child fall. "Moss and pine- 
 needles are slippery." 
 
 "He's strong," said Jane. "I'm not sure his heart 
 isn't crooked, but his back and legs are all right." 
 
 157
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Ungrateful child!" said Herbert. "And I your 
 slave!" 
 
 "Every girl's slave, I guess," said Jane. "Lilian 
 says you're an awful flirt, and never say what you 
 mean." 
 
 "Don't believe her, Theo," said Herbert, quickly. 
 "Lilian sees us all through blue glasses." 
 
 "Here's Etienne!" cried Janey. "Etienne, come 
 here; I want you to carry me back, then Theo won't 
 worry, and I want " She whispered the rest, as she 
 left Herbert's arms for Etienne's. 
 
 "That must be as Theo wishes," said Etienne, look- 
 ing at me steadily. "She may have arranged other- 
 wise." 
 
 "Come here, Theo," commanded my small mistress; 
 and, as I obeyed, she put one arm around my neck, and 
 drew my face close to hers and Etienne's. "I want 
 us three to drive home together just us three. I'm 
 tired to death of the strangers within our gates, yes, 
 tired ! I 'most wish I could hear their teeth gnashing 
 in outer darkness, I'm so disgusted with their ways 
 making me laugh, and you, too, Theo, when 'twas 
 rude. Here, take that off!" She lifted the wreath 
 from my hair, and dropped it into the swiftly flowing 
 brook beside us. "Will you come with Etienne and 
 me, Theo?" 
 
 "Yes, Janey." 
 
 "You wish to, Theo?" asked Etienne, his lips almost 
 touching my cheek. 
 
 "Yes," I said, blushing hotly. 
 
 "Then let's be off," said Jane, "and I'll try to for- 
 get and forgive." I stared at her. "Don't be a goose, 
 Theo Brace, of course. I was growing so attached 
 but there, never mind; he's young. I'll try to hope 
 he'll learn better in time." 
 
 I, too, had been pained by Mr. Brace's foolish 
 speech, and could not but regret the boyish readiness 
 
 158
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 with which he yielded to the fascination Mrs. Love's 
 wild spirits evidently possessed for him. He was un- 
 able, owing to a call from one of his poor people, to 
 remain at the house that evening; and, although at 
 first I was sorry to have him lose the fine display of 
 fireworks, I was, later, glad of his absence. 
 
 This was when, at our midnight supper, Mrs. Love 
 suddenly mounted the table, and, calling upon Hervey 
 to remove the candles lest they set fire to her gauzy 
 skirts, offered to dance for our amusement. 
 
 "Now then, boys and girls," she cried, gayly, shak- 
 ing her mop of curls, and smiling down upon us, "I'll 
 finish up this celebratin' of the glorious Fourth by 
 giving you a new, and truly original specimen, of the 
 terpsichorean art. I'll give you a Fourth of July 
 quickstep first, and, as encore, the Braithe House 
 fling!" 
 
 As she caught her skirts in both hands preparatory 
 to beginning, I, almost unconsciously, rose, casting at 
 the same time an imploring glance at Etienne. He 
 returned it as if understanding, but the next moment 
 himself stepped up on the table, and, picking his way 
 among the glasses and flowers, joined Mrs. Love. I 
 felt oddly faint, sick at heart; what was coming? 
 
 Mrs. Love welcomed him joyfully. "Bully for you, 
 Rappelle!" she cried, holding out a hand to him. 
 "You're the boy for my money! Shall we do a cake- 
 walk for the crowd?" 
 
 Shouts of approval and encouragement arose on all 
 sides. Billy Bandhar was almost beside himself with 
 delight; Major O'Leary leered up at Nelly Love in 
 a state of rapture that was repulsive. 
 
 Etienne disregarded her motion of welcome: 
 
 "Carrington," he said, sharply, "lend a hand, will 
 you?" And before Mrs. Love realized his intention 
 he had lifted her down to Mr. Carrington, who had 
 sprung to help him. 
 
 159
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "Go upstairs with Theo," Etienne commanded, 
 good-naturedly, as though speaking to a wayward 
 child. "You've been up too late as it is " 
 
 "Yes," interrupted Freddy Love, holding his sides 
 with laughter, "too late and too high!" 
 
 To my surprise Mrs. Love went with me willingly. 
 "I'm sorry I've been troublesome, Mrs. Theo," she 
 said, as we reached her room, "for I've taken an awful 
 fancy to you. Are you very angry? No, I see you've 
 forgiven me already. There, kiss me good-night, and 
 I'll go to bed and dream about a rose a rose without 
 thorns you." 
 
 And I, I fell to wondering why Etienne had cared 
 to test me, by surrounding me with the gayest of his 
 gay acquaintances? For that I was being tested, I 
 no longer doubted. But I marvelled at his imagining 
 that I could be influenced in any way by our present 
 guests. 
 
 160
 
 XVI 
 
 Early Sunday afternoon Janey and I slipped away 
 to the chapel, for a quiet hour together. I was glad 
 to be alone with my little sister, and to be free from 
 Herbert's society for a time. Since the picnic he had 
 continued to devote himself to me, still behaving as 
 though there had been a past of love-making between 
 us. Saucy Mrs. Love had amused herself, the evening 
 before, by pressing a rose to my lips and then flinging 
 it upon the grass, inviting Herbert and Monsieur Ran- 
 doce to scramble for it. This they had done, more like 
 two school-boys than grown men, losing their tempers 
 and fighting so fiercely that I had to promise a fresh 
 rose to Herbert to induce him to behave. For Etienne 
 was approaching and I could not let the fight go on. 
 
 Later, when gay Mrs. Ainslie Mr. Carrington's 
 cousin made a pretty, foolish speech, about my being 
 unselfish, Herbert had cried out that unselfishness was 
 a vice when carried too far, adding: 
 
 "My cousin immolates herself that those she loves 
 may flourish. Self-sacrifice is sickening to an on- 
 looker!" 
 
 Never had I known his love of teasing so insatiable, 
 and I trembled every time he opened his lips, not 
 knowing what he might say next. 
 
 Janey made me sit on Old Vivian's tombstone, and 
 flinging herself down on the grass before me, leaned 
 her golden head against my knee. 
 
 "Look at the river and mountains, Theo," she said ; 
 "aren't they drowsy? They're taking their afternoon 
 naps, like the people at the house. It's heavenly here, 
 all alone with you and sleepy old Charles Stuart. I 
 
 161
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 do hope I mayn't have to go to a promiscuous heaven; 
 I should hate it so. I can't forgive people's sins when 
 they're near me, somehow " 
 
 "May I join you?" said Mr. Brace, strolling up. 
 
 "Yes," said Janey, with a heavy sigh, "oh, yes!" 
 Then, in warmer tones, "Perhaps you feel sleepy, like 
 the Chevalier, Mr. Brace. Lie right down beside me, 
 so," as he obeyed. "Put your head on that piece of 
 Theo's gown it won't pull on her, there's such a lot 
 of it on the grass. Now, do go by-low ; we shan't mind 
 at all. Theo, don't you speak, and he'll be off in a 
 minute." 
 
 Willing to humor her, and seeing through her trans- 
 parent device, to lock Mr. Brace out of our party with 
 chains of slumber, I kept silence. 
 
 "Boh!" cried a voice behind us, suddenly, and a 
 shower of rose leaves fell into my lap. 
 
 "Naughty girl, robbing my rose-garden!" I said, 
 and smiled up into Mrs. Love's mischievous face; for 
 she it was, and she alone. 
 
 "Bracy-pacy as I'm a living sinner!" she ex- 
 claimed. "I made cocksure it was you and your ever- 
 lasting cousin, spooning; and crept up as softly, to 
 give you a sickening scare. Man's legs, and a yellow 
 head against your knee; I was so sure I had you! 
 Heavens, what a joke against me!" and she laughed. 
 
 "Theo makes allowances for everybody," said Jane, 
 who had risen and now stood facing Mrs. Love, her 
 cheeks crimson, her eyes flashing; "yes, even for you, 
 you wicked thing, but I shan't!" 
 
 "Good Lord, Janey!" ejaculated the startled Mrs. 
 Love. 
 
 "Don't cuss at me," cried the child furiously, 
 stamping her tiny foot, "for I shan't permit it! You 
 talk in that horrid way because it makes your silly 
 husband laugh, and gives you a chance to say what 
 you really think as if 'twas only a joke and it's 
 
 162
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 mean ; yes, mean ! And my Theo is not in love with 
 Herbert Fayne, though you like to pretend so; and it's 
 not nice of you, but very, very nasty. He only came 
 here a few weeks ago, and she hadn't seen him before 
 since she was thirteen, though that Miss Mabel Alien- 
 by does say it's an old affair. Yes, Theo, I heard her 
 say so, and that you'd been engaged on and off to 
 him, 'played fast and loose' she said as if you were 
 a wicked cat for years; and I told her she h'ed, only 
 politely, Theo. I just said, 'Miss Allenby, you are 
 telling the wickedest falsehood I ever heard,' but she 
 didn't want to believe me. Mrs. Love, my sister Theo 
 may have flirted once, but she thinks frisky matrons 
 are vulgar, and O Theo, I wish you'd make her go 
 away!" and flinging herself into my arms, the child 
 burst into tears. 
 
 "Isn't she splendid?" said Mrs. Love, softly. "Isn't 
 she grand ! Janey, Janey, forgive me," falling on her 
 knees beside little Jane. "I love your Theo dearly, 
 yes, dearly, and I was only talking nonsense, child. 
 Mrs. Theo's an angel. See, I'm down upon my knees !" 
 
 Janey, in nowise placated, put out her hand and 
 thrust Mrs. Love away. 
 
 "Now you're making fun of her," she sobbed, "and 
 that's your hateful way of getting out of it. You said 
 you thought that Mr. Brace's nice, good legs were 
 Herbert's ; you did, you did, and took my head for his 
 against Theo's knee, too!" 
 
 "I did," said Mrs. Love, soberly, "and I'm ashamed 
 of myself, Jane. Mr. Eappelle will be here directly, 
 so if you don't want him to shy off the bank with 
 horror, you'd better dry your eyes." 
 
 "If he was coming, why did you come?" persisted 
 the irate Jane, but she dried her eyes. "He loves 
 Theo a great deal better than you do, and knows her 
 nice ways. He knows she'd never do anything to dis- 
 please me and him." 
 
 163
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "Don't you like your cousin Herbert, child?" asked 
 Mrs. Love. 
 
 Janey colored. "I don't when he isn't 'round," she 
 said, shamefacedly, "but when he is, I do." 
 
 "I came out here to do a kind thing," said Mrs. 
 Love, looking meaningly at me, "and to make myself 
 agreeable " 
 
 "Agreeable," said Jane, interrupting her, "agree- 
 able! If you went to the Cannibal Islands and the 
 cannibals offered you a piece of cooked infant, should 
 you think them agreeable?" 
 
 "But they would mean to be," I broke in, seeing 
 my chance of reconciling the two. "They would be 
 offering their choicest viand to a needy traveller. 
 Mrs. Love has intended to please me " 
 
 "I understand," said Mrs. Love. "I've been a fool. 
 Next time I'll trust to my instinct, and not swallow 
 a jealous girl's infernal gossip." 
 
 "Jealous?" I questioned, in surprise, and then be- 
 came aware that Etienne was close behind me. 
 
 "Who is jealous?" he asked, looking keenly about 
 as if in search of someone. 
 
 "Not you, you lucky dog," said Mrs. Love, briskly, 
 "nor my Freddy, because neither one of you has the 
 chance. Hush, here comes Bracey-pacey" Mr. 
 Brace had fled from the storm. "Don't let him sus- 
 pect my heart's not his!" 
 
 Mr. Brace, with many blushes, now came to say that 
 he had been sent for, to administer the last sacrament 
 to the wife of a laborer, in the brick-yard down the 
 river. 
 
 "She isn't really dying, I think," he said, gently, 
 "but if she imagines so, she is in need of aid, poor 
 soul. About evening service, Mrs. Rappelle, I doubt 
 if I can get back in time " 
 
 I begged him not to think of returning, and he 
 went away. The rest of us sat and chatted till it was 
 
 164
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 time for afternoon tea, which was to be served in the 
 rose garden, grown my favorite haunt. 
 
 As we were returning homeward through the thick 
 belt of woodland that lay between flower garden and 
 chapel slowly, because of the charm of its dense shade 
 and sweet woodsy odors we met Mrs. Allenby, ac- 
 companied by Herbert Fayne. She was talking ear- 
 nestly, while he lent an attentive ear. 
 
 "Here's a state of things!" whispered Mrs. Love, 
 winking at me; "O'Leary had better watch out." 
 
 "I never saw you coming at all," said Mrs. Allen- 
 by, "I was so busy talking to your cousin, Mrs. Rap- 
 pelle." 
 
 "Awfully interesting topic," said Herbert, carefully 
 stifling a huge yawn, and looking woe-begone with 
 boredom. "Mrs. Allenby has been telling me about 
 her jewels, Dolly." 
 
 As he used this old pet name for me I glanced 
 quickly at Etienne, but he was looking at Mrs. Alien- 
 by, and apparently did not hear, or care. Mrs. Love 
 pinched my arm, murmuring, "What sand!" 
 
 "The worst of owning jewels is," said Mrs. Alien- 
 by, lowering her voice and glancing searchingly 
 around to see that no eavesdropper loitered near, "the 
 worst of having valuable jewels, I mean, is to know 
 where to keep them. 
 
 "Monsieur Randoce must keep what he holds most 
 dear in his breast-pocket," said Herbert. "He slaps 
 it, every now and then, to make sure it's there." 
 
 "Which side?" asked Mrs. Love, eagerly. 
 
 "Heart side," was the answer; "so it's probably a 
 love-token." 
 
 "A love-token!" exclaimed Mrs. Love, and fell into 
 a reverie. 
 
 "Weary little cousin!", said Herbert, gently, stoop- 
 ing to look into Janey's face. "The afternoon is hot, 
 and walking tiresome to little people; let me pick you 
 
 165
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 up there!" and he lifted her carefully in his strong 
 arms, and carried her lightly and easily along. 
 
 "I oughtn't to let you, Herbert," said the child, 
 looking worried, "because I'm not really grateful, I'm 
 afraid." 
 
 "I don't want gratitude," said Herbert, with one 
 of his sunny smiles; "I want Janey to be comfortable." 
 
 My heart melted. I forgave him his nonsense of 
 the night before. "You are very good to her, Bertie," 
 I said, softly. 
 
 He looked at me steadily across Jane's shoulder. I 
 failed to understand the expression in his heavy-lidded 
 eyes. The next moment Mr. Carrington hailed us from 
 the entrance to the rose garden, asking where we had 
 been. 
 
 "To sit on the gravestones near the chapel," ex- 
 plained Jane, from her high perch in Herbert's arms. 
 "But we didn't get to my mother's grave, because 
 people came, and we knew she wouldn't like it." Then, 
 lowering her voice, "She likes just Theo and me to 
 come and sit by her, just we two. You see," confi- 
 dentially, "she isn't in any cofiin. Theo promised to 
 bury her without one, and Theo always keeps her 
 word. No, Theo wrapped her in her own long cloak, 
 and over that she draped our country's flag the 
 noblest covering, don't you think? I do. I remem- 
 ber the day so well," looking dreamily into the dis- 
 tance. "It had been bitter cold, but that day was 
 warmer. Theo got down into the grave herself, and 
 made my little Mummy a bed of fir branches and laid 
 her on it. No one but Theo would have done it, 
 Etienne says." 
 
 "For once I agree with him," murmured Herbert, 
 aside to me. 
 
 "You see," continued Lydia's little daughter, "my 
 mother loved Theo better even than she did me, and 
 she wanted to have everything easy, so that she could 
 
 166
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 get up and haunt any person who might try to hurt 
 her. My mother wasn't very strong, and screwed- 
 down coffin lids are hard to open." 
 
 "Janey, dear child!" remonstrated Mr. Carring- 
 ton. 
 
 "Then, she expected really to stay and sleep near 
 the chapel," not heeding him, "but at last she 
 changed her mind, and went to heaven in Theo's 
 arms." 
 
 "A heaven indeed!" said Herbert, under his 
 breath. 
 
 "Janey," said Mr. Carrington, frightened by the 
 child's expression, "don't you like ice-cream? Merle 
 is bringing out a big freezer full!" 
 
 "Ice-cream! Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed Jane. 
 "Come, Herbert, come, Theo. Why, look at Mrs. 
 Love! What's she up to now?" 
 
 All the members of the house-party had assembled 
 under the big trees of the rose garden, and were 
 lounging in basket-chairs and hammocks or wander- 
 ing to and fro, chatting with the different groups. At 
 the moment that we arrived at the opening in the 
 hedge, Mrs. Love led Monsieur Randoce into the centre 
 of the circle of people, and calling out loudly that she 
 was about to show a newly learned trick in magic, 
 asked Mabel Allenby to be her assistant. 
 
 "You weel not hurt me, no?" said Monsieur Ran- 
 doce, smiling, and not averse to being the object of 
 everyone's attention. 
 
 "No," was the answer, "but I've learned how to 
 tell what a man's thinking of all the time, if he'll let 
 me put him through certain paces." 
 
 Monsieur Randoce looked, as if involuntarily, at 
 me. Herbert muttered something I could not catch. 
 
 "Set me down, please, Herbert," said Janey ; "you 
 squeeze me too tight," and, gaining her footing, she 
 slipped her hand into mine. 
 
 167
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Monsieur Randoce was now told to tilt his head 
 backward, and look upward through the branches of 
 the trees, and, at the same time, to thrust his arms 
 stiffly behind him. He obeyed, and Mabel Allenby, 
 taking his hands in hers, held them tightly. 
 
 "Now count ten as loud as you can, in French," 
 commanded Mrs. Love. 
 
 "Un, deux, trois " He broke off with an ex- 
 clamation of dismay, for Mrs. Love, slipping her hand 
 into his breast-pocket, had deftly removed something 
 with which she quickly ran away. 
 
 Her victim made no effort to pursue her and recover 
 his lost treasure ; pale, bewildered, he stood quite still, 
 his hands pressed close against the emptied pocket, and 
 stared beseechingly at me. Bertie, on the contrary, 
 light-footed as a deer, was already close upon Mrs. 
 Love, who had stopped to examine her booty, and, to 
 my very great surprise, Etienne had followed her as 
 swiftly, and arrived beside the volatile young woman 
 as soon as he. She had doubled through the trees 
 imagining one of her pursuers to be Monsieur Kandoce 
 toward the hedge near which Jane and I were 
 standing, with Mr. Carrington, and when she paused 
 in her flight she was very close to us. As she glanced 
 at what she held in her hand she uttered a cry of real 
 dismay, and cast a frightened glance at me. Etienne 
 and Herbert, coming up together, looked over her 
 shoulder, and saw what she had. Both men instantly 
 snatched at it, but Etienne's fingers closed over it 
 first. Herbert, coloring fiercely, tried to wrest it from 
 him; but Etienne, his face set like iron, said some- 
 thing in a low tone, and Herbert, turning abruptly, 
 stood aside. 
 
 Mrs. Love ran to me, her face colorless, her eyes 
 bright with tears. "O Theo!" she gasped, "I had no 
 idea " 
 
 "Control yourself," said Herbert, sharply, coming 
 168
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 after her. "You've done harm enough as it is, Heaven 
 knows. Damn the French thief!" 
 
 "Hugh!" I said; for Etienne, standing close by 
 Monsieur Randoce, had begun to speak, in clear, far- 
 reaching tones. 
 
 "Don't take it so hard, Randoce," he said, an odd 
 smile about his thin lips. "Mrs. Love has only an- 
 ticipated you by a few moments. Monsieur Randoce," 
 turning to the others, "had hoped to show you, this 
 afternoon, one of the very best things he has ever done, 
 celebrated artist that he justly is a miniature of my 
 wife. I begged him to paint it for me some weeks 
 ago. I consider it perfect even that unimportant 
 trifle, the frame, shows an artist's taste." 
 
 Everyone began to examine and admire, while 
 Monsieur Randoce stood like one who dreams, scarce 
 seeming to hear the congratulations that poured in 
 upon him. I moved, with Mrs. Love, who still looked 
 white and frightened, to a rustic sofa and sat down, 
 feeling unable to stand. I was as terrified as she, for 
 Miss Allenby had just admired, in staccato tones, a 
 true-lover's knot which surmounted the frame. What 
 might not Etienne be thinking, and were our guests 
 deceived by his ready wit? 
 
 "Look not upon the wine when it is red," mur- 
 mured Hervey, placing a cup and saucer in my trem- 
 bling fingers, "but sherry looks like tea, and drink it 
 quickly, dear lady. Gather your roses while it's May, 
 of course, but in July a cloud no bigger than a man's 
 fist can do damage. Those who play with edged tools," 
 a side-glance of deep reproach at Mrs. Love, "cut their 
 neighbor's fingers badly sometimes. A word to the 
 wisely willing is sufficient, but how to knock sense 
 into a witless foreigner beats me!" 
 
 The next moment he was offering Monsieur Ran- 
 doce champagne, and saying something to him in a low 
 tone. What it was I never heard, but it acted upon 
 
 169
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 the dazed Frenchman like an electric shock, and he 
 instantly began to behave as he should, saying what 
 was necessary to his admirers. 
 
 Etienne did not approach me, nor look at me, and 
 when I entered the drawing-room before dinner and 
 found him there, seated in a huge armchair, apparently 
 buried in thought, he merely rose to offer it me; and 
 when, declining it, I took a chair by the window, he 
 sank back into both place and reverie, seeming to 
 forget my presence. 
 
 Herbert, entering a moment after, failed to see 
 him, and coming quickly to me, said: 
 
 "My rose, Dolly, the one you promised me if I 
 would be good. May I have it now?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "the garden is full help yourself." 
 
 "Dora!" he exclaimed, a world of tender reproach 
 in his voice. 
 
 "That in your hair may please Mr. Fayne, my dear," 
 said Etienne, rising suddenly and coming close 
 to me. 
 
 Herbert started, in spite of his habitual self-control, 
 showing but too plainly his ignorance of Etienne's 
 near neighborhood. 
 
 "My fingers are clumsy," said Etienne, stooping 
 over me and gently unfastening the flower from my 
 hair, "but Theo is accustomed to them. There," plac- 
 ing the rose in my hand, "put that in Mr. Fayne's 
 buttonhole." 
 
 I obeyed silently. Herbert's face was colorless; I 
 knew he was in a passion of rage. 
 
 "She needs no ornament, does she, Fayne?" Etienne 
 went on, putting his hand under my chin and tilting 
 my face up as though to look deep into my eyes. "She 
 turns all our heads with what nature has given her," 
 and leaning down he kissed my cheek. "Don't blush 
 so furiously, Theo! There's no one here save your 
 cousin; surely you don't mind him?" 
 
 170
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 But my cousin had hurried away. Etienne's face 
 changed; it was no longer smiling, but sombre. 
 
 "Stop in the library, please, on your way upstairs 
 to-night," he said, sternly; and, our guests entering, 
 my mauvais quart d'heure was over and I had to 
 prepare for a worse to come. 
 
 I had dressed so carefully for dinner, hoping by 
 looking my best to soften Etienne's hard thoughts of 
 me. I glanced ruefully down at my exquisite crepe 
 de chine; the pretty white frock, the long string of 
 pearls, the creamy rose in my hair, had been worn in 
 vain. The rose had gone and with it my hope of 
 escaping my husband's displeasure. 
 
 But I pleased some among my guests more than ever 
 before. To Mrs. Allenby, the flirtatious Mrs. Ainslie, 
 Major O'Leary, and several others, I had evidently 
 become an object of much interest. The two women 
 gave me sympathetic glances. I felt I hated them. 
 Mrs. Love, on the contrary, drooped like a dispirited 
 bird, and was so miserable over the result of her prank, 
 that had I not already forgiven her, I must have done 
 so then. 
 
 I smiled upon all graciously, impartially. I made 
 a point of saying something pleasant to each one; not 
 excepting Monsieur Randoce, who, sombre and hilari- 
 ous by turns, showed but too plainly the irritated con- 
 dition of his nerves. And all the time, while laugh- 
 ing, jesting, I was thinking of the coming interview 
 in the library. What would Etienne say? I knew 
 that Monsieur Randoce, too, was thinking of Etienne ; 
 I saw him stealthily watching his calm face a face 
 that rarely betrayed its owner's thoughts. 
 
 But though in doubt as to what punishment was to 
 be mine, I knew quite well what would happen in 
 regard to the French artist. Etienne would listen to 
 no explanation did Monsieur Randoce seek to offer 
 any but, having said that the miniature had been 
 
 171
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ordered for himself, would oblige Monsieur Randoce 
 to accept, not only this statement, but also payment in 
 full for his work. Of this I felt sure. 
 
 I was as proud of Etienne as I was ashamed of my- 
 self. Why had I yielded to my wicked fondness for 
 making everybody satisfied with themselves, their sur- 
 roundings and with me? Why had I smiled, and 
 pretended not to understand foolish speeches, flirta- 
 tious glances, when I ought to have frowned, and ad- 
 ministered rebuke ? Ah, why indeed ! For failing to 
 take Herbert's nonsense seriously I could not blame 
 myself, yet how had it been interpreted? Truly for 
 the feet of a daughter of the Braithes the path of mat- 
 rimony was hard. How might Lilian behave should 
 she ever marry? Then, cutting short my musings, I 
 signaled to Mrs. Allenby, at Etienne's right hand, and 
 retreated with my flock of doves to the great stone 
 portico outside the drawing-room windows. 
 
 The night was very lovely, the river flooded with 
 moonlight. The little waves rippled southward, show- 
 ing that the tide was on the ebb, flowing gently, so 
 gently to the sea. When the men joined us there was 
 music to please those whose minds were attuned to 
 pleasure. I seated myself far from corners shadowy 
 or remote, fearing that Monsieur Randoce, or Her- 
 bert, might desire to indulge in sentimental discourse. 
 I was unhappy, and in no mood for conversation of 
 any kind ; most certainly not for the fencing sort that 
 would be necessary with Monsieur Randoce, nor for 
 the exchange of angry incivilities that must inevitably 
 result from any intimate talk with Herbert. I found 
 the long evening dull, yet it slipped away all too quick- 
 ly for me, and I crossed the hall very, very slowly, 
 when I went to keep my appointment with Etienne. 
 
 The library was but dimly lighted ; Old Vivian, seen 
 across its dusky vastness, seemed as if starting from his 
 frame. His blue eyes looked into mine with an ex- 
 
 1Y2
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 pression of sneering contempt. Herbert resembled 
 him far too closely. I wished that Lydia had not be- 
 lieved so firmly that those who are alike in feature 
 are alike in heart, mind, and soul. Surely Herbert was 
 merely foolish, not wicked ; surely in him the Braithe 
 vices had softened into trivial faults ! Where Old 
 Vivian would have meant serious mischief, surely Her- 
 bert but intended to tease. 
 
 I sank into a chair, feeling so very weary, so out of 
 patience, with Monsieur Randoce, with Herbert with 
 myself. When Etienne entered, and closed both doors 
 behind him, I had reached the state of not caring very 
 much what he might say or do, yet his first words 
 caused an instant revulsion of feeling. 
 
 "I asked you to stop in here on your way upstairs, 
 Theo," he said, and he did not sit down, "as I think it 
 would be well for you to make your rounds to-night. 
 We have had such warm weather that the walls must 
 be heated through. I will go with you. It will take 
 but a few moments, and, after, there will be time to 
 speak of other matters." 
 
 For a moment I failed to understand him, then I re- 
 membered the foolish old custom of the House to which 
 he alluded, and crimsoned with indignation. It had al- 
 ways been considered the duty of the Head of the Fam- 
 ily to examine, once a year, the By- Ways of Braithe, 
 in order to see whether their secrets had been dis- 
 covered, and if the hidden springs and locks were in 
 good condition in short, to make sure that all was 
 in readiness in case of need. I had never known just 
 when my father performed this absurd rite, but we 
 all could make a pretty shrewd guess as to when he 
 was contemplating it, because of the particularly evil 
 state of his temper at that time. It had not entered 
 my mind that anyone could possibly think it necessary 
 for me to keep up this ridiculous custom pray who 
 might now ever need to glide through the By- Ways 
 
 173
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 for dear life's sake? Indeed, I doubted if they ever 
 had been used, even in the time of Old Vivian. 
 
 Etienne's devotion to the old traditions had always 
 annoyed me, so it was perfectly illogical on my part 
 to resent his breaking through this one, in not only 
 reminding me of it, but also in offering to share it 
 with me. Yet I did resent it, and felt myself stiffen 
 in every fibre as, holding myself haughtily erect, I 
 declined his companionship, and ignored his sugges- 
 tion that the time had come. I had thought he 
 would feel snubbed, or show displeasure at my 
 answer, but he only said, with cold insistence : 
 
 "I must beg you to understand that I cannot allow 
 you to go alone." 
 
 "You wish me to break my oath?" I asked and 
 I was very angry. 
 
 "It does not hold with me," he said, adding, I 
 thought contemptuously, "you would be panic- 
 stricken, shut in with bats and rats, between the walls 
 all alone." 
 
 "The oath holds with everyone," I said, haughtily, 
 "unless under certain conditions. When I go, I go at 
 a time of my own choosing and alone. It is odd that 
 a Rappelle should have forgotten this." 
 
 A hot color surged across his face; it was as if I had 
 struck him with a whip. 
 
 "Thank you," he said, icily, "for reminding me of 
 my proper place of the difference in our positions. 
 As, however, I happen to have assumed the responsi- 
 bility of your personal safety, I must, as your 
 husband, forbid you to explore the By- Ways with- 
 out me." 
 
 "Meaning the custom dies?" I demanded, ashamed 
 of my sensation of relief, and, because of it, the more 
 indignant with Etienne. 
 
 "Unless I should need to crawl away from justice, 
 like a sneaking robber," he said, sarcastically, "when I 
 
 174
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 will beg your forgiveness for having dared to take care 
 of you, and ask you to take care of me. Perhaps " 
 
 A sharp knock at the door interrupted him. I won- 
 dered, as I heard it, who had had the courage to open 
 the outside one of baize and before he had time to 
 say "Come in," Herbert entered. 
 
 "Excuse lack of ceremony," said my cousin, glanc- 
 ing quickly, and anxiously, at me, "but you must 
 both come and look at the gorgeous jewels the house 
 holds! The women have got them all out, on show." 
 
 "At your request ?" demanded Etienne, sharply. 
 
 "Yes," said Herbert, his sunny smile irradiating his 
 handsome face, "at my request, Rappelle. I wanted 
 to ask you to get the Gypsy's Opal, Theo, but Lilian 
 tells me she had it last, and has mislaid it." 
 
 "Lilian had it? When, Herbert?" I asked, quickly. 
 
 "Last night, I believe. She wanted to see if it was 
 becoming (preparing for wedding presents, perhaps)" 
 his smile became a sneer "and lost it, in her care- 
 less way. Don't worry, Dolly it will turn up all 
 right, I'm sure." 
 
 175
 
 xvn 
 
 I did not get upstairs until very late, and then I 
 spent an hour in the Cell of Flagellation before going 
 to bed. There was, indeed, need that I should pray 
 long and earnestly that night, for forgiveness of my 
 many, many shortcomings. When, at last, I allowed 
 myself to lay my weary head upon my pillow, I ex- 
 pected to fall asleep at once from over-fatigue; but 
 tormenting thoughts kept me wide awake till dawn. 
 
 Herbert had entered the library, in spite of the 
 closed baize door, to protect me from Etienne's dis- 
 pleasure, and had persuaded the women to show their 
 jewels at that late hour, in order to get the necessary 
 excuse. This I knew, and I feared Etienne suspected. 
 Would Etienne be foolish enough to credit the absurd 
 gossip about Herbert and me? Then I began to fret 
 about Monsieur Randoce; about the mislaying of my 
 opal ; about Etienne's thoughts in regard to the minia- 
 ture; about everything, in short, that had happened 
 or that was likely to happen, until, at dawn, I fell into 
 an uneasy sleep, nightmare ridden, from which I was 
 thankful to be roused by my little Josette. 
 
 She brought the news that Etienne and Monsieur 
 Randoce had gone to town by the early train. I was 
 very much relieved. The evil hour of explanations 
 was thus indefinitely postponed, and Monsieur Ran- 
 doce definitely got rid of. Curiously enough, every- 
 body appeared the gayer for this departure. It was 
 as though the atmosphere had suddenly grown lighter. 
 Infected by this change in the social oxygen, Mrs. 
 Ainslie suggested a driving party by moonlight. 
 
 176
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Is Etienne coming to-night, Theo?" Lilian asked. 
 
 I did not know, and disliked very much saying so. 
 
 "Probably not, Miss Lilian," said Hervey, before 
 my ignorance could be noticed. "Still, since nothing 
 but the unexpected is likely to happen, lightning never 
 strikes a man twice in the same spot once being gen- 
 erally enough to kill I'd half count Mr. Rappelle in, 
 and half out." 
 
 Having finished this lengthy answer, and diverted 
 the attention of the entire company to himself, Hervey 
 began to serve the breakfast with his customary as- 
 siduity. 
 
 "I heard of some people at a house-party going to 
 a dance in a charming way," said Mrs. Ainslie, who 
 was absorbed in her own suggestion. "They went in 
 masks and dominos, drawing for partners, and didn't 
 know whom they were to dance with till they got to 
 the house. They managed by choosing ribbons, before 
 they met, and pinning them on their shoulders. The 
 blue man took a blue girl and so on." 
 
 "We might draw for wagons that way," said Mr. 
 Carrington, looking at Lilian. "Rappelle has several 
 single traps in the stables." 
 
 Everybody laughed, and Mr. Carrington blushed 
 furiously. 
 
 "Great heavens!" ejaculated Nelly Love, with a 
 frightened start. "What if, instead of Bracey don't 
 color up so, my cherub an unkind Providence should 
 send me off to drive, alone, with Bandhar? I couldn't 
 stand it, Bandhar, my boy, I really couldn't! You'd 
 have to let me choose again." 
 
 Mr. Bandhar grinned; he did not believe her. He 
 was convinced that every woman present secretly 
 hoped to have him for her Jehu. His conceit was sc 
 intensely amusing, that before I knew what I was 
 about I was gazing at him wistfully, and not until I 
 had enjoyed the simper of gratified vanity that my 
 
 177
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 glance elicited did I realize how outrageously I was 
 misbehaving. A frantic giggle from Nelly Love told 
 me of my fault. 
 
 "Stop ogling me, Billy Bandhar!" she cried. "Can't 
 you see you're making the little parson green with 
 jealousy? He'll forget his cloth and fight you, if you 
 don't stop staring." 
 
 "I ain't looking at you," said Mr. Bandhar, indig- 
 nantly, "I'm looking at Mrs. Rap " 
 
 "Hush, hush, you old Ananias, you! Next thing 
 you'll be dropping down dead among the breakfast 
 dishes, just like old thing-um-bob himself." 
 
 "Is that a blasphemous remark, Theo?" whispered 
 Jane, at my elbow. "But no, I know it's not, because 
 you can talk light-tonguedly about all the bad people 
 in the Bible, the devil and others why, so they do 
 of some of the good ones, too! Adam, now. You re- 
 member the conundrum, Theo? It ends: 'I don't 
 care A dam!' And the other, about 'shutting out 
 the dam p air!' I think they're silly and, after all, 
 Adam was dull, and Eve disobedient, poor thing; 
 so except for having children they didn't count for 
 much. Poor, poor Eve ! To begin with stupid Adam 
 and a slimy serpent, and end up with borning a mur- 
 derer No, Mrs. Love, I'd rather not say out what 
 I've been telling Theo. It's uninteresting, and it 
 might hurt people's feelings." She looked at Mr. 
 Brace. He smiled back at her. "May I go now, 
 Theo, please?" she said, then whispered hurriedly: "I 
 have turns of thinking him feeble-minded, when he 
 smiles so foolishly, and I ought to respect the clergy 
 if I'm going to be a truly religious child." 
 
 "What do two knives mean?" asked Lilian, sudden- 
 ly. "Theo's put two on her plate without knowing it." 
 
 "Nothing, Miss Braithe," said Mr. Carrington, 
 soothingly, "just nothing at all." 
 
 "They must mean something," mused Lilian, puck- 
 178
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 ering her pretty forehead. "I wish I could remem- 
 ber." 
 
 "A hidjeous mistake and a gory quarrel," said Nelly 
 Love, looking wicked. 
 
 "Keally?" questioned Lilian, earnestly. 
 
 "Never mind, Lilian," I said, smiling. "One mis- 
 take the more won't count with me, I make so many 
 daily and I'm a splendid fighter, so I'm sure to come 
 off best in any quarrel." 
 
 "He who fights and runs away, will live to fight 
 another David," muttered Hervey, sotto wee, behind 
 my chair. "Though why, seeing Goliath dropped 
 down dead then and there some sayings are peculiar." 
 
 That evening Lilian brought me the ribbon I was 
 to wear, saying she had chosen it for me. 
 
 "The arrangement is awfully clever, Theo, though 
 I say it myself. I made bows that would go well with 
 the girls' dresses, and sent out a lot to the stables for 
 Brett" the coachman "to put on the wagons as he 
 wished. So the men won't know how they've fared 
 till the last minute. Cute idea, I think. I'm dead sick 
 of seeing you in black, so I picked out this pale green 
 ribbon for you. Looks pretty, doesn't it? I'll fasten 
 it on your shoulder myself." 
 
 I was flattered; rarely did Lilian show such an in- 
 terest. 
 
 "Thank you, Lilian. But fancy your choosing green 
 for me ! It would suit your fair hair far better than 
 my black." 
 
 "I have yellow," she said, constrainedly. "I'm 
 sorry if you are not pleased." 
 
 "Nonsense, child!" I said. Then, prompted by a 
 mischievous demon, I added, "Green means forsaken, 
 you know that's all." 
 
 "Theo! I had forgotten it!" she cried. 
 
 "Green is forsaken, 
 And yellow's 
 
 179
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Oh, yellow's 'forsworn' ! There, it's just like you, 
 Theo Braithe ! So mean and nasty ! I never am en- 
 joying myself but you do some beastly thing to spoil 
 everything." 
 
 Her sweet voice ran up and down in a pathetic 
 arpeggio of minor cadences. As for me, I was ashamed 
 of myself, and apologized. 
 
 "I am so sorry, Lilian. I meant nothing by that 
 nonsense. Please forgive me ! I like the green ribbon 
 very much." 
 
 "Nonsense," she repeated, scornfully, "nonsense, 
 indeed! I'll tell you what it is, Madam Groceress, if 
 you took a little more notice of signs that crop up 
 under your very nose, you wouldn't sail so close to the 
 wind. Yes, dear Mrs. Ainslie," in answer to a gentle 
 tap at the door, "coming directly! I'm just pinning 
 on my Theo's shoulder-knot. Nasty sly cat," to me, 
 as our visitor was heard moving away, "always sneak- 
 ing, and snooping, and listening at key-holes ! There, 
 come along, do, and when you're just reeking with en- 
 joyment, you may increase it by remembering that 
 you've made me miserable." 
 
 Her reproaches made me unhappy I felt they 
 were deserved but I had not time to say so, since 
 she hurried away to join the crowd of black dominos 
 already waiting for us at the top of the staircase. I 
 looked curiously at my companions as we rustled down 
 to the drawing-room, trying, vainly, to guess who was 
 who. It pleased me to see several green shoulder- 
 knots besides my own, for I thought this meant that 
 I had drawn what would assure me a place in one of 
 the double wagons. 
 
 The men were as thoroughly disguised as the 
 women; save for the difference in height they looked 
 exactly alike. Then I saw what had before escaped 
 my notice the ribbons of the same color were tied in 
 bows of a different pattern. Mine was in a simple 
 
 180
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 bow, but the green one on the shoulder of the girl 
 next to me was in a true-lover's knot. I glanced at the 
 men. Their ribbons were varied in the same way. A 
 tall domino wore the bow matching mine, and, from 
 his awkward movements, I guessed him to be Mr. 
 Bandhar. I smiled behind my mask, remembering 
 my foolish glances of the morning. The prospect of 
 a long drive with such a dullard was appalling, but the 
 knowledge that there would be others in the wagon 
 since I did not alone wear green comforted me. 
 
 But when I descended the steps with my cavalier 
 I found that I had been mistaken. Brett had amused 
 himself by mixing things up as much as possible. On 
 the railings of the seats in the three-seated wagon he 
 had tied three separate colors: red, white, and blue. 
 The double dog-cart wore pink and green, but the 
 green bow did not match mine. No, I, with Mr. 
 Bandhar, was given a buggy drawn by two horses; the 
 fastest horses in the stables I noticed, with a qualm of 
 terror, as I got in. Poor Mr. Bandhar was a wretched 
 driver. 
 
 Sighing deeply, and repressing a wicked wish that 
 one of the Allenby girls were in my place, I resigned 
 myself to my fate and, so soon as we were out of the 
 avenue, took off my mask. Mr. Bandhar did not fol- 
 low my example, neither did he attempt more than a 
 scanty grunt in response to my would-be civil remarks. 
 Deciding that he was as disappointed as I in the com- 
 panion chance had given him, I felt ashamed of my 
 own vanity in taking it for granted that he would be 
 pleased. For this reason I made no objection when he 
 turned westward, instead of following the road by the 
 river, where the view, because of the glorious moon- 
 light, would be exceptionally fine, since I thought he 
 might at least have his own choice in that. Neither 
 did I object when he jerked up the top of the buggy, 
 though I preferred it down, but I was thankful that 
 
 181
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 we had been late in getting off. It was already after 
 ten. 
 
 Although supper had not been ordered till twelve, 
 I thought it would do no harm to get home well before 
 that hour. I might plead the necessity of arriving 
 earlier than the others, as hostess, and did Mr. Band- 
 har remain in the sulks he would be as willing to re- 
 turn as I. Indeed, I congratulated myself upon his 
 sharing my wishes when, after reaching the end of 
 what had, in old times, been our avenue, he turned 
 into a road that, twisting around a tract of fields and 
 woodland, made a pretty, if short, drive from Braithe. 
 
 My companion not wishing to talk, I thought it 
 would not be rude if I closed my eyes for a moment 
 or two, just to rest them. I was so very tired after 
 my sleeplessness of the past night, and my head ached 
 from over-fretting. Etienne and I were on bad terms ; 
 my opal, after a search through Lilian's possessions, 
 remained invisible; and although I felt sure it would 
 be found later, since I could not believe it had been 
 stolen Braithe was too full of people, I thought, to 
 give thieves a chance still, its loss worried me. 
 
 But the motion of the buggy was soothing, the 
 rhythmical sound of the horse's hoofs served as a 
 lullaby. I leaned my head against the side of the 
 hood, I closed my eyes, I forgot my worries I 
 drowsed off, waked with a start, napped again, then 
 fell into a profound slumber that lasted a very long 
 time. 
 
 I was roused from this heavy sleep by a dream 
 a most unpleasant dream. 
 
 I thought I was in a sail-boat with Etienne upon a 
 wide stretch of moonlit water. We sat close together, 
 his arm around me ; with his free hand he grasped the 
 tiller, guiding our white-sailed craft. But although 
 he held me firmly he appeared unconscious of my 
 presence, staring straight ahead as if only thinking 
 
 182
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 of steering the boat, never of me. I was so it 
 seemed but a passenger for whom it was his duty 
 to care his uninteresting duty. In my dream I felt 
 this keenly, and looked anxiously forward, hoping for 
 the sight of our landing-place, where I might relieve 
 him of myself his cargo. 
 
 Then I became aware of something moving just 
 behind us and, turning, saw a masked man crouching 
 down on the narrow stern. His eyes, through the slits 
 of his mask, gleamed like blue flames, and I felt that 
 I had met their strange glances before, but where, I 
 could not remember. He thrust out a stealthy hand 
 and cautiously laid it upon the tiller, just behind 
 Etienne's; then he steered our boat. Etienne, un- 
 conscious, staring straight before him, did not see that 
 the masked man had changed our course, and I, I 
 could not speak, could not cry out that shipwreck 
 threatened; could not even motion to the jagged 
 rocks, whose cruel points showed black above the foam 
 that surged across them, toward which we were 
 swiftly sailing. 
 
 I dreamed that I made a desperate effort to scream 
 a warning, and, as I strove, the man lifted his mask 
 and I saw the handsome, wicked face of Old Vivian, 
 gleaming white and diabolical in the moonlight. I 
 awoke. 
 
 The horses were scrambling, with the agility of 
 cats, up a very steep hill. On either hand rose rocky 
 banks, surmounted by dense woods. My head rested 
 against my companion's breast, his arm was around 
 me, clasping me close, because the difficulties of the 
 road made driving with one hand impossible. As I 
 became conscious of my position we topped the hill 
 and, in the white splendor of the moon's light, the 
 whole country became visible for miles. Although 
 but a world of farmsteads and woodland, like that just 
 back of Braithe, it was quite new to me; for the hori- 
 
 183
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 zon, far beyond us, was barred by the line of the 
 Shawangunk Mountains. 
 
 Before I had fully shaken off the stupor following 
 my long slumber, the horses plunged down the hill, 
 and I became aware, from the skill shown in their 
 management, that the masked man beside me could 
 not be Mr. Bandhar. Until we reached the foot of 
 what was almost a precipice I knew I ought not move, 
 as my companion must, from any sudden change on 
 my part, lose control of the spirited horses, already 
 wild with their desire to run down the hill. He held 
 me as firmly and easily as if I had been a little child. 
 The horses, flinging their weight upon the reins in 
 their determination to set the pace themselves, made 
 the muscles of his arm rise as tight as whip-cord ; yet 
 he did not stir, but sat like a rock, supporting me, con- 
 trolling the horses, without apparent exertion. 
 
 The horror of my nightmare still surrounded me 
 with an atmosphere of dread ; and, as my mind cleared, 
 it did not dissipate, but increased. For I soon saw that 
 the night was far advanced, the moon was no longer 
 in the zenith, but swinging toward the west, and the 
 chill of the hours that follow midnight was abroad. 
 The lateness of the hour, the strange surroundings, 
 and the presence of the masked man beside me, so 
 paralyzed me with terror that even when we had 
 reached the level, and the horses had settled down 
 into a steady trot, I could not, for a few moments, 
 either speak or move. 
 
 It was in vain I told myself that my companion was 
 some member of my own house-party, that I ought to 
 speak at once, and tell him he had lost his road; in 
 vain that shame at my position urged me to action. 
 No, I dared not even lift my head from its resting- 
 place against his heart, for I saw, in imagination, the 
 face of Old Vivian behind that mask. Suddenly, in- 
 voluntarily, I shivered as with a chill. 
 
 184
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Very gently, with infinite precaution, I was re- 
 placed in my corner of the buggy; the horses were 
 pulled down to a walk, and my companion, leaning 
 forward, began to draw something from beneath the 
 seat. With equal gentleness and precaution, my 
 trembling fingers making the task one of great dif- 
 ficulty, I lifted the soft, slouched hat from the head 
 of the stooping man. The white moonlight showed 
 the close-cropped curls of Herbert Fayne. 
 
 I cried out, in my amazement, in my great relief; 
 and Herbert, starting up, took off his mask and smiled 
 at me. Then, all in a moment, a rush of thoughts 
 crowded into my mind, and my feeling of relief was 
 gone. Herbert knew every road in the country-side, 
 so he had not lost his way. And his smile had some- 
 thing sinister in it, his blue eyes an unpleasantly 
 triumphant gleam. I thought suddenly of the great 
 gulf of years that stretched between my knowledge 
 of my boy cousin, and of this, yes, this unknown man. 
 In those years, the years that make or mar us all, how 
 had the man beside me lived and thought? He was, 
 in truth, a stranger. A stranger with an unfortunate 
 resemblance to our common ancestor, Vivian; a 
 stranger who, in the chill, late night, reminded me 
 of the family Leopards, and the motto, Gare Griffes. 
 
 It was in vain that I said to myself that it was 
 both unnatural, and foolish, to feel so toward my 
 cousin to have such uncanny thoughts, to suspect 
 evil. Even as I told myself that it was only one of 
 Herbert's wild pranks, that I must put up with for 
 the moment, I was wondering what had been the 
 unpardonable offence, that had closed the doors of 
 Braithe to him during the last years of Mr. Braithe's 
 life; and recalling every fault that he had committed 
 during his boyhood. Even as I strove to be tolerant 
 toward this last folly, I was preparing to judge him 
 adversely. 
 
 185
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 In the meantime he had pulled a cloak from under- 
 neath the seat, and would have put it over my shoul- 
 ders, but the sight of it broke the spell that bound me 
 for it was one of my own wraps. It was a mantle 
 of black velvet, ornamented with a tracery of jet; 
 lined with pale lilac satin, and with clasps of silver. 
 These last a gift of Etienne's one showing his weak- 
 ness for Braithe follies leopards' heads of silver, 
 with topaz eyes. Each topaz seemed to gather light 
 as Herbert lifted the cloak, and each line of jet showed 
 a glancing reflection of the moon's cold rays. 
 
 "My cloak!" I exclaimed. "How did you happen 
 to have it with you? But it didn't happen," I went 
 on in sudden indignation, "you brought it! Who 
 gave it to you? Why did you pretend to be Mr. 
 Bandhar? How did you know I was to drive with 
 you, Herbert, and why have we come so far?" 
 
 "Put this on," he said, still trying to wrap the cloak 
 around me, "and ask one question at a time. Don't 
 be foolish, Dolly" he spoke with tender imperious- 
 ness as I evaded his efforts "but put this on directly, 
 please. I can't have you catching cold." 
 
 A new idea flashed into my mind. 
 
 "Put down the buggy-top, please," I said, briefly, 
 "and as far as it will go." 
 
 He laughed, and there was a ring of excitement in 
 his laughter. 
 
 "I must obey first?" he said. "So be it," and the 
 hood went down. "Now it's your turn, Dolly." 
 
 "Take off your domino," I commanded. 
 
 He hesitated, laughed again, and saying, "Well 
 then, here goes!" slipped it off. He was not in even- 
 ing dress, but wore a suit of dark serge. 
 
 I laid a finger on his sleeve. "What does this 
 mean?" I demanded. 
 
 He looked down at me with fond admiration, and 
 laughed again ; a laugh that added to my anxiety, for 
 
 186
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 it was the laugh of a lover, foolishly proud of his sweet- 
 heart's wit. 
 
 "I must have played Bandhar to the life, Dolly," 
 said Herbert, "to have taken you in! I didn't dare 
 speak, however, and you were so sleepy you weren't 
 so clever as usual. O Dolly, my darling, I love you 
 so! I have loved you all my life." 
 
 "Hush!" I said, imperiously. "You must not say 
 such things to me even in jest, Herbert, fond as you 
 are of talking nonsense. You must remember that I 
 am grown up, and married." 
 
 "Married!" he echoed, scornfully. "A marriage 
 that any court in the country could, and shall, annul." 
 
 "Be still, Herbert," I cried, indignantly, "how dare 
 you " 
 
 "Hear me out," he broke in, "for I mean to speak 
 and fully. I made Lilian give you that ribbon to- 
 night, and myself tied its mate on this wagon. I pre- 
 tended to be that fool Bandhar, fearing your terrible 
 conservatism might make you insist upon going in 
 one of the double wagons, if you knew I was to be 
 your driver. For you've snubbed me since I fought 
 Randoce for your rose, and I can't imagine why. 
 Poor Randoce, how I did hate him!" He spoke as if 
 years had elapsed since then ; as if Monsieur Randoce 
 had not left Braithe only that morning. "Yes," he 
 went on, "Randoce taught me how matters were with 
 me. I've flirted all my life, Dolly, as you know, but 
 I never knew what love really meant till now. 
 Why," he laughed a little, "I actually hated to own 
 up to myself that my time had come. I realize now 
 that what made me half-hearted in all my other af- 
 fairs was this dormant fondness for you. I always 
 meant to marry you when we grew up. Many's the 
 time I've punched Jim Wylde's head for saying I 
 shouldn't." 
 
 He laughed again softly. I did not speak, but sat 
 187
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 quite still listening. And the trees of the wood- 
 land, closing in on either side the road that stretched 
 straight and white before us in the moonlight, seemed 
 to listen with me; whispering to each other, with 
 breathless, uneasy rustlings, to be silent, to keep very 
 still, that they might the better listen. In the 
 death-like quiet of the late night I could hear my 
 heart throbbing, throbbing, in its ever-growing fear. 
 
 Herbert spoke again, his voice sweet and silky and 
 I thought of the purr of the leopard. 
 
 "To-night we shall be children again, Dolly, and 
 play at camping-out, under the trees. Just ahead a 
 rough track leads into the very heart of these woods, 
 and there I chose, this morning, the prettiest, grassy 
 hollow for our camp. I hid some rugs away in a 
 hollow tree; and I got everything ready. You shall 
 have a fire, and a glass of wine, directly, to stop that 
 shivering. Why, Dolly, you look as though I fright- 
 ened you, your face is white!" 
 
 Something in his voice, a truly Braithe cadence, 
 told me that my fear pleased him since it showed I 
 felt his power. 
 
 "White?" I said, with a poor pretence at ease. 
 "The moonlight makes it appear so, probably. You, 
 too, look white. But enough of jesting, Herbert, we 
 must hurry home." 
 
 "To-morrow," he went on, as if I had not spoken, 
 "we'll go on to an old house tucked away in a lonely 
 valley, twenty odd miles from here I went there 
 once with Uncle Braithe, for fishing, when I was a 
 boy. They may look for us up and down the river, 
 dear, but will never think of looking there. Why 
 don't you act like yourself, my little cousin? You 
 sit there staring at me with such a strange expression 
 in your beautiful eyes. What does it mean, Dolly? 
 Do I please you a little, do you think me a handsome 
 fellow? Come, tell me!" 
 
 188
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 He was superbly, magnificently handsome, as he 
 swayed toward me, his full lips curved in the habitual 
 half-amused, half-mocking smile. He was, I thought, 
 as Jane had said, singularly like Guide's Apollo. The 
 moonlight glorified his beauty of feature, the careless 
 grace of his attitude, the cold splendor of his heavy- 
 lidded blue eyes. I remembered that, as a boy, he 
 had never given up the pursuit of what he desired, 
 unless compelled to do so by a power stronger than his 
 own. And search as I might among old memories, I 
 could not recollect his having ever shown any noble 
 feeling that I might now hope to awaken. 
 
 "Well, am I never to hear you say you love me?" 
 His voice had sunk almost to a whisper. The uneasy 
 trees, flinging, here and there, the shadow of a branch 
 across the white road, rustled a nervous accompani- 
 ment. "I know you love me, you foolish girl, so why 
 not tell me so? If I had been anybody but your 
 scapegrace cousin, you wouldn't have lain ?o peace- 
 fully asleep in my arms. You are a high-strung crea- 
 ture, Dora; even in your sleep you would shrink from 
 the touch of any man unless you loved him. Ah! as 
 I held you, cradled against my breast, I wished to 
 God I could drive on through the night forever." 
 
 I braced myself for a great effort. I must, I felt, 
 make a strong appeal to him at once; yet the utter 
 uselessness of it tied my tongue and sapped my 
 strength, I was so sure I would not prevail. I felt 
 as though I were again in the clutches of a terrible 
 nightmare it was all so unnatural, so unreal. I was 
 Etienne's wife, in Etienne's light wagon, behind 
 Etienne's favorite horses yet in the power of Her- 
 bert Fayne ! How near might we be, I wondered, to 
 the track that was to lead me to ruin? My reputation 
 was already hurt, I feared, by my long absence from 
 the Manor; but if I could keep to the high-road, we 
 might meet someone to whom I could cry out for aid, 
 
 189
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 saying we had lost our way, and so at last reach 
 home. 
 
 The horses walked quietly, willing to rest. Her- 
 bert let them idle along, enjoying this slow approach 
 to the fulfilment of his desire an added enjoyment, 
 now that he had me trapped. Of what use, I asked 
 myself, to try honest means with this treacherous 
 Braithe ? Let me use deceit instead, the only weapon 
 that might help me now. 
 
 "You are more Fayne than Braithe to-night, 
 Bertie," I said, gently. 
 
 "How so?" he asked, an expression of eager curi- 
 osity replacing that of passion in his eyes; and I real- 
 ized, with swift self-hatred, that now, as always, my 
 unexpectedness had been, to him, my chief charm. 
 My changing moods and thoughts had kept him 
 interested, on the alert, in the need of the constant 
 use of all his powers. This suited his cat-like nature. 
 
 I laughed a little, and wondered that I did it so 
 well. 
 
 "A Braithe would not have denied a woman the 
 pleasure of being wooed, Bertie," I said, softly; "a 
 Braithe would have left her the joy of giving up 
 everything for for her lover ; a Braithe would never 
 have planned to win or lose by so rough a coup as 
 this. You are no true Braithe, my cousin, but just a 
 Fayne ; showing yourself a tyro yet at this great game 
 called Love." 
 
 He knit his brows, my words stung him, but not 
 with the result I had hoped. 
 
 "I have not one drop of Fayne blood in my body," 
 he said, quickly. "I am more a Braithe than you." 
 
 I looked at him, raising my eyebrows in scornful 
 surprise. What might this mean? 
 
 "My mother," he went on, "had the same good 
 taste that you show, Dolly; she preferred her hand- 
 some cousin to her lawful lord." 
 
 190
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 His shocking words, showing such callous disrespect 
 for his mother's memory, for every decency of life, 
 made it impossible for me to play my part longer. 
 
 "For shame!" I cried, hotly. "How can you speak 
 so wickedly! Take me home I hate you despise 
 you! To-morrow you shall leave Braithe." 
 
 "Dear me, Dolly," he said, plaintively, "what a 
 little vixen you are! I thought I would please you 
 by proving a double cousin-ship, but women are kittle 
 cattle, indeed." He sighed deeply, and looked ag- 
 grieved, as he always had, when people disapproved 
 of him. "I won't take you home," he continued, "so 
 you needn't ask it. I believe, for all your show of 
 temper, that you would rather be with me than with 
 that common Rappelle." 
 
 Again despair clutched at my heart. I felt for- 
 saken lost. I shuddered again, as with a chill. 
 
 "It's that silk thing that makes you shiver so," said 
 Herbert, and before I could prevent him he unloos- 
 ened the fastening of my domino, and flung it from 
 my shoulders. "Ah!" he exclaimed beneath his 
 breath, as holding my velvet mantle with which he 
 had meant to replace the thin domino, he stared at 
 me as if he would never have done. The look in his 
 eyes insulted me, yet I sustained it proudly, deter- 
 mined he should not know I understood. I even 
 spoke, to prove I felt no fear. 
 
 "A fitting camping dress, truly!" I said, with a 
 haughty smile. "I see that you realize your folly 
 now." 
 
 I wore a gown of black gauze, upon whose sombre 
 folds gleamed woven through the stuff great shin- 
 ing silken spots. The bodice, cut low, was oddly 
 trimmed with peacocks' feathers of jet, the quills 
 starting from the waist, so that the tips made the 
 finish around the top of the corsage. About my 
 throat was clasped a collar of diamonds. I wore 
 
 191
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 bracelets of diamonds one, a long diamond-studded 
 snake upon my upper arm; in my hair a diamond 
 crescent. 
 
 "You shimmer like the moon!" cried Herbert, 
 with sudden passion. "You sparkle like the stars!" 
 He slipped the reins over one arm and caught me 
 to him, covering my face and shoulders with kisses; 
 fierce yet languorous kisses, that seared my very soul, 
 and drove me mad. 
 
 With strength born of desperation I wrenched my- 
 self free, stood upright, seized the whip, and struck 
 the horses once, twice, with all the force in me. 
 They reared, plunged, then galloped wildly down the 
 road. The reins ran out with a jerk, but Herbert, 
 with what seemed to me fiendish dexterity, caught 
 them before they could slip across his hand and so 
 over the dashboard, as I had hoped they might. Then, 
 drawing me back into my place, he wound the reins 
 about his wrists with one swift turn of his skilful 
 hands, and strove to master the runaways. 
 
 We were soon out of the woodland, and on into the 
 open country. Presently, we rushed past farmsteads, 
 showing black amidst their encircling meadows, where 
 horses turned out to pasture, startled by our wild ap- 
 proach, ran snorting away across the home-field. On, 
 on, we raced, through the white night till, with an 
 awful sinking of the heart, I saw that Herbert was 
 slowly but surely conquering. 
 
 Then I cried out to the horses Etienne's horses 
 urging them on; I clapped my hands, blazing with 
 jewels Etienne's jewels and gave the sharp, excit- 
 ing call that jockeys use when speeding their trotters. 
 
 "Be quiet, Theo!" Herbert commanded. 
 
 I heard him cursing under his breath. I paid no 
 heed, but cried out again and again. There followed 
 an odd sound. One rein had snapped and a race 
 with Death began. I hoped that Death might win; 
 
 192
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 since Etienne would never forgive me, and Janey was 
 provided for. 
 
 The wild exhilaration that danger brings to us 
 Braithes tingled through my veins. I laughed aloud 
 with the joy of it, and again urged on the maddened 
 horses with voice and hand. The knowledge that 
 they, too, might be killed awoke no pity; they and I 
 belonged to Etienne. Better that we should die than 
 that he should be robbed. And on we tore through 
 the night. 
 
 But Herbert, who had so lately bragged himself 
 pure Braithe, was afraid. He dreaded what I longed 
 for, and the danger left him cold. With teeth set, 
 the veins on his forehead swollen with the intensity 
 of his past exertions, and his face rigid in its outlines, 
 he sat, motionless, awaiting the final moment; when 
 he would strive to save, not himself, but the woman 
 he loved, from bodily harm. For I knew well that 
 the risk we ran would have been nothing to him had 
 he been alone; I knew that in his desperate fear for 
 me he was suffering as he had never before suffered 
 in his selfish life and I rejoiced. 
 
 Then I saw that before us, just beyond a farm- 
 house rising black against the moonlight, the road 
 turned abruptly where a great rock, topped by trees, 
 jutted sharply out. I said to myself that the end was 
 there, and I thanked God for making it so sure. 
 
 "Look out, Dolly! Don't jump, for God's sake!" 
 cried Herbert suddenly. "I must run them into the 
 ditch " 
 
 He flung himself, with all his strength, upon the 
 rein that still held. Chaos followed.
 
 XVIII 
 
 The sudden stoppage of the wagon tossed me out 
 upon the grass, high up on the bank, above the ditch ; 
 but the violence of the shock neither stunned me nor 
 caused me to forget for even an instant the urgent 
 necessity of escape. I stumbled to my feet, shaken, 
 almost breathless, with fear lest Herbert were close at 
 hand, and looked dizzily about me, with terrified eyes. 
 I must get to the farm-house we had just passed, must 
 seek refuge there. 
 
 Then I saw that the buggy had come to a stand- 
 still but a few feet farther on. One of the lightly 
 built wheels had been shattered by the sharp turn, and 
 the wrecked wagon, becoming entangled among the 
 rocks and low bushes that edged the roadside, had 
 served as an effectual check upon the frightened 
 horses. They now stood quiet, with drooping crests. 
 Close at their heels lay Herbert, the reins still twisted 
 about his wrists. He did not move; was he stunned 
 or dead? 
 
 At first I thought only that now I had time to reach 
 my haven in safety, unmolested; but before I had 
 taken three steps in the direction of the farm-house, I 
 realized the possibility of the horses again starting on 
 their mad race through the night, dragging at their 
 heels that helpless figure, mangling it out of every 
 semblance of humanity. I turned back. 
 
 It was all I could do to force myself to approach, 
 but conscience had made itself master. I must do 
 my duty and leave the rest to God. Herbert lay upon 
 
 194
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 his back, his beautiful face upturned to heaven, a 
 streak of blood on his right temple. I thought that 
 he was dead, and that I had killed him. Yet I could 
 not bring myself to touch him, but went instead to 
 the horses' heads, to prevent their running again. 
 More I could not do. 
 
 The moon hung low in the west, but still shed a cold 
 white light over meadow and woodland. The night, 
 all nature, seemed to look with chill remoteness at 
 my distress. I felt so very lonely forsaken. The 
 horses seemed to share my feelings; now and again 
 they rested their velvety noses against my bare shoul- 
 ders, as if seeking sympathy and the comfort of a closer 
 companionship. 
 
 I tried to speak cheeringly, encouragingly, to do all 
 I could for the poor creatures for whose wild run I 
 was partly responsible. Childish anxieties mingled 
 with great ones in my distracted mind. I felt ner- 
 vously for the diamond crescent; had it fallen from 
 my hair? No, it still clung fast. Then I thought 
 with concern of my velvet cloak; was it by the road- 
 side, some distance back? Where was it? Were they 
 sitting up for me at Braithe, my gay guests, wearing 
 out the night with cards, champagne, unkind mirth 
 over my prolonged absence? This last, earlier in the 
 evening, but by now ? A grave scandal in progress 
 must not be treated too lightly by those close at hand ; 
 later perhaps, when at a safe distance from Braithe, 
 they might use what license they wished in speaking 
 of me, of 
 
 I could not endure this last thought. I bore 
 Etienne's honest name; he had trusted me with it. 
 Was it to be dragged through the mud because of my 
 lack of forethought, prudence, common-sense? I 
 wanted Etienne to come for me to take me home. 
 I longer for his mere presence; let him scold, or be 
 silently scornful, I did not care if only he came. 
 
 195
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 A deep silence filled the white world surrounding 
 me. Herbert's face shown pale in the cold light; the 
 horses, save for an occasional deep sigh, stood quiet; 
 and I I dared not move. 
 
 It seemed hours before I heard, far in the distance, 
 the sound of a horse's easy trot, the light rattle of 
 wheels. It came from the same road we had followed. 
 I listened breathlessly. The horses pricked up their 
 ears. What if it should turn aside, into one of the 
 farms farther up the road? Then, as the sound drew 
 nearer, I was assailed by the dread of being found 
 thus, alone, past midnight, without my husband. 
 What might not people think? And but part of the 
 truth was fit to tell. A buggy approached at an easy 
 pace; the top was up, but the waning moonlight en- 
 abled me to see that only one person was in it. 
 A feeling of intense shame held me silent. I 
 knew I must ask aid, but waited, in spite of 
 myself, until the last moment. The vehicle reached 
 us and drew up sharply. The one occupant leaned 
 out 
 
 "Theo Braithe! What has happened?" 
 
 It was Dr. Strong. 
 
 "O doctor, doctor," I cried, then faltered, laughed 
 hysterically, and began to cry. 
 
 Dr. Strong wasted neither time nor words but, tying 
 his horse to the nearest fence, came quickly to my side. 
 Then he caught sight of Herbert. 
 
 "He's dead," I sobbed, "dead, and I suppose I 
 killed him!" 
 
 Dr. Strong unfastened the traces, unbuckled the 
 reins from the bits, and led the horses away. Then, 
 bidding me hold them, said, "Now, I'll see to Rap- 
 pelle." 
 
 "It's not Etienne," I almost whispered, "it's Her- 
 bert Fayne." 
 
 "What!" he exclaimed, in tones of shocked sur- 
 196
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 prise, drawing down his shaggy eyebrows till his eyes 
 became nothing but bright gray sparks. "Where's 
 Rappelle, then, Theo?" 
 
 "Away," I faltered. 
 
 "Humph!" muttered the doctor, and went to Her- 
 bert. He leaned down, examined him hastily, then, 
 with no gentle touch, disengaged the reins from his 
 desperate clutch, and, returning with them, fastened 
 the horses to the fence. The doctor's manner of 
 treating Herbert told me that my cousin lived, and, 
 furthermore, that he was in no danger. 
 
 "Can I help you, Dr. Strong?" I asked, feeling that 
 I ought to do so. 
 
 "No," said the doctor, gruffly. 
 
 "I think there is wine in the wagon," I ventured, 
 timidly. 
 
 "Wine !" echoed the doctor, "now, why the deuce 
 but fetch it, if it hasn't tumbled out. And do get 
 something for your shoulders." 
 
 I found a basket, as I had expected, under the seat, 
 with a goodly provision of sandwiches, a bottle of 
 Burgundy, and one small tumbler. This last added 
 to my indignation we were to have drunk from the 
 rfame glass. The doctor forced a little of the Bur- 
 gundy down Herbert's throat. 
 
 "Stand where he can see you when he opens his 
 eyes," he commanded ; "he's coming to. Your shoul- 
 ders are still uncovered, Theo; go no, wait a minute 
 a-h!" 
 
 Herbert sighed, lifted his beautifully cut eyelids, 
 looked up at me, smiled faintly spoke. 
 
 "Dolly " he said, haltingly, "Dolly my darling 
 are you all right?" Then he saw Dr. Strong. 
 "Ah!" he murmured, "my pipe is out." 
 
 "Go get a horse blanket anything," growled the 
 doctor, glancing sharply at me, "and put it around 
 you. Go, child, go !" 
 
 197
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Let me help you," I pleaded. "What are you 
 going to do, Dr. Strong?" 
 
 "Get you and this dare-devil home," he said, crossly. 
 "You shall go with me; the people over there," jerk- 
 ing his head in the direction of the farm-house, "will 
 look after him. I know them." 
 
 I ran back along the road, found and put on my 
 cloak, my pretty velvet cloak ah, how I dreaded 
 facing the giver ! I no longer wished for Etienne, no 
 longer wanted him to come to me. In my shame at 
 my position I was thankful to be with my old friend, 
 Dr. Strong. Even he disapproved of me so what 
 might be expected of Etienne ? 
 
 The irate doctor roused the poor farmer from his 
 peaceful slumber, and put Herbert in his charge. 
 The man was one of his people those whom Dr. 
 Strong cared for always became his eager servitors 
 and readily promised to bring Herbert back to Braithe 
 Manor. 
 
 "He's taken a drop too much," I heard the doctor 
 say, "so if he talks nonsense don't notice it; and his 
 head is giddy, too, after his fall. First he lost the 
 road, then one of the reins broke he hasn't been in 
 these parts since he was a boy. He's a cousin of the 
 Braithes, Herbert Braithe Fayne." 
 
 "I know all about the Braithes," said the farmer, 
 slowly (we had left Herbert alone by the roadside and 
 gone, in the doctor's buggy, to get help at the farm), 
 "and I guess the less known the better. The man 
 who's bought the old place is square, folks say; he's 
 paid off all the debts anyway. The girl he's married 
 is the best of the lot, I understand, though that ain't 
 sayin' much" I drew back into the shadow of the 
 buggy-top "an' they do say she's an awful pritty 
 creature, and good to the poor, though Lord knows 
 she ain't had nothin' much to give but good works. 
 Well, well, she ain't never been tried none. I guess 
 
 198
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 now she sees the color of money she'll show her blood ! 
 Kick over the traces, maybe, like as not " 
 
 "Have you, Theo?" asked the doctor, sternly, yet 
 sadly, as we drove away homeward. "Have you 
 kicked over the traces, child ?" 
 
 "No, no, Dr. Strong," I cried, a big lump rising in 
 my throat and choking me. "I don't even want to." 
 
 The doctor was a shy man, yet, poor soul, felt it 
 his duty to catechise me. "Do you -do you," he said, 
 haltingly, "do you love your husband, Theo?" 
 
 "I like him better than any any other man," I 
 said, beginning to sob in spite of myself, "but I fear 
 I'm not the falling in love kind. Not that it matters 
 much, Dr. Strong, since he doesn't care about me." 
 
 "Rubbish!" said the doctor, shortly. "Now tell 
 me how you came to be so many miles from home at 
 this hour of the night." 
 
 I told him what I could of the choice of driving 
 partners by ribbons, of my long nap, and of the run- 
 away. 
 
 "Why was there food in your wagon, Theo?" asked 
 the doctor. "I dare say you're hungry now, or faint. 
 Come, let's have something to eat; I stowed it away 
 in here." He pulled the basket from beneath the 
 seat, and, drawing the horse down to a walk, again un- 
 corked the Burgundy and made me drink some. 
 "Humph!" he muttered, tasting it himself, "the best 
 in the cellar. I thought so. Now, eat this sand- 
 wich, child I don't care if you want it or not," as I 
 protested, "you're hysterical through faintness." 
 
 I obeyed, and, although swallowing was difficult, I 
 felt the better for the food. 
 
 "Chicken and lettuce," said the doctor to himself, 
 rummaging through the basket, "and these, of rare 
 roast beef! Do you like chicken and lettuce sand- 
 wiches, Theo?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 199
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "He prefers roast beef, I suppose ?" 
 
 I did not answer. 
 
 "He does, I see," said the doctor. "Theo, I am 
 your very old friend. I am fond of you, child, and, 
 what's more, I believe in you. Will you give me 
 your confidence?" 
 
 "I cannot," I said, desperately, "but indeed, indeed 
 I am grateful, Dr. Strong." 
 
 "Did you know this food was here?" he persisted. 
 
 "No, Dr. Strong." 
 
 "Did you expect to drive with your cousin?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Did the horses run away of their own deviltry, 
 Theo?" 
 
 "No," I almost whispered. 
 
 To my amazement the doctor chuckled suddenly. 
 I looked at him wonderingly, and he smiled. 
 
 "I was only thinking of the Scotch countess," he 
 said, "and that blood will tell. Dear, dear, what 
 strange ideas your poor step-mother had in regard to 
 your likeness to the Scotch woman ! And," speaking 
 very slowly, "I'm not so sure that she was altogether 
 wrong. But Mr. Fayne needs change of air. Braithe 
 doesn't suit his constitution. You must tell him to 
 pack, Theo." 
 
 "I have," I said. 
 
 The doctor chuckled again, then whipped up his 
 horse, and we sped swiftly back along the road I had 
 travelled so short a time before, under such widely 
 different circumstances. Behind us, from the dis- 
 tance, came the sound of the steady jog-trot of the 
 farmer's horses; Herbert, too, was retracing the road 
 in a way he had little expected. I began again to 
 feel as if I were living in a dream; as though Herbert's 
 wild plans and strange behavior, his sudden passion 
 for me his old playfellow and my own frantic 
 struggle to escape him, might well be but a mental 
 
 200
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 phantasmagoria, that the fast coming dawn would 
 dispel. 
 
 Dr. Strong hardly spoke. He was accustomed to 
 the prolonged silences of solitude, and I was no check 
 upon his thoughts, or his ways, since we had beeil 
 friends always. 
 
 Upon the stone parapet of the single-arched bridge, 
 that spans our little brook before the entrance gate, 
 crouched the Chevalier watching. With a bark of 
 delight that sounded like a cry, he bounded over the 
 wheel, into the buggy. Frantic with joyous relief 
 over my safe return, he paid no attention to the com- 
 fort of Dr. Strong, but scrambling upon his lap used 
 his knees as a point of vantage from which, whining 
 and sighing, he overwhelmed me with caresses. My 
 poor Charles Stuart! He had spent the night on the 
 bridge. 
 
 "Good Lord!" ejaculated the hardly used doctor, 
 "but the creature is human. Sounds as if he were 
 crying over you but I can't see through him. Sit 
 down, then, Chevalier! There's room between us. 
 Can't you ride bodkin for once ? I must see to drive." 
 
 The friendly nudge from the doctor's elbow was the 
 only hint needed by my clever collie. He squeezed 
 down between us like a lamb; only, pleased by the 
 doctor's kindly voice and sympathy, he did insist upon 
 kissing him, too. The attention was not resented, to 
 my surprise, for Dr. Strong was no dog-lover. 
 
 "If the dog goes on so," he said, cheerfully, "what'll 
 the rest do, eh, Madam Theo?" and he smiled kindly. 
 
 "I hope Janey is asleep, Dr. Strong." 
 
 "There's that remarkable butler left. Rappelle 
 tells me you're the apple of his eye, and, bless me, 
 there he is now!" 
 
 Standing between the Leopards I saw, in the pale 
 gray light for dawn was at hand a small figure, 
 that turned and ran across the lawn toward the house as 
 
 201
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 we approached. It was, indeed, my husband's faith- 
 ful henchman, Hervey Merle. He was ready to help 
 me from the buggy when we drew up before the door. 
 
 "Welcome home, dear madam," he said, his voice 
 shaking. "Thank God that you are safe! We are 
 grateful to you, sir, for bringing her since wisdom is 
 above rubies, and a stitch in time saves a lot of un- 
 ripping." 
 
 "You will come in, Dr. Strong?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, my dear, to wait for my patient." Wheels 
 were to be heard coming along the avenue. 
 
 "Is Mr. Fayne seriously hurt, sir?" asked Hervey. 
 "Was there an accident?" 
 
 I gave him a brief account of the upset, and in- 
 quired for my guests. Dr. Strong, still seated in his 
 buggy, listened attentively to the answer. I could 
 not but wonder if he, too, had noticed the tone of 
 Hervey's voice when he inquired as to Herbert's in- 
 juries; there had been in it such a strange anxiety 
 that they might be great. 
 
 "Mr. Carrington," said Hervey, "has just gone to 
 the stables, with Brett, to get up a team to start in 
 search of you, Mrs. Rappelle. Hope deferred makes 
 the heart sick at its stomach, as we all know, and they 
 are both painfully worried for misery makes strange 
 bedfellows of high and low." 
 
 "And the rest of the party, Hervey?" 
 
 "In the drawing-room, Mrs. Rappelle, full to the 
 brim with champagne not that they needed it to 
 keep their spirits up! A wise woman buildeth her 
 own house, but foolish folks like to pull it down, if 
 they can and Mr. Bandhar has bet heavily but 
 here comes Mr. Fayne. Ah! as an ox goeth to the 
 slaughter-house so pride goeth before destruction. 
 Let me take your horse to the stables, doctor, and 
 minister comfort to the minds diseased there. Mr. 
 Carrington and Brett will both rejoice." So saying 
 
 202
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 he took the doctor's place in the buggy and drove 
 away. 
 
 "A character that," said the doctor, "and I thought 
 all had passed away! Go into the house, my dear, 
 and leave this young man to me. I shall advise 
 change of air to be taken to-morrow morning." 
 
 At the threshold Mrs. Love met me. Her childish 
 face was very pale, great circles beneath her big brown 
 eyes, and her mop of fair hair dishevelled. 
 
 To my surprise she flung both arms around my 
 neck and, clinging to me, began to cry. 
 
 "Oh, my dear!" she sobbed, under her breath, as if 
 fearful of being overheard. "Oh, my lovely girl, I 
 am glad, glad, glad, that you are home, safe and 
 sound!" 
 
 Touched by this show of real affection, I kissed her 
 gently. "Thank you for caring," I said. 
 
 "Caring!" she exclaimed, striving to check her 
 tears while, releasing me, she sought and after much 
 trouble found a pocket but no handkerchief. I 
 gave her mine. "Caring! I've been almost wild, 
 and those vile harpies in there," indicating the door 
 of the drawing-room with a shake of her curls, "have 
 been simply gloating. I hate the lot of them." 
 
 Her eyes flashed, she stamped her foot and clinched 
 her fists a very fury. 
 
 "We were upset," I explained, hoping to calm her. 
 "The horses ran away. Herbert is hurt." 
 
 "Badly?" she demanded. 
 
 "Who's hurt?" Lilian had come up behind us un- 
 heard. "Herbert? Seriously, Theo? Will he die?" 
 
 The note of eager anxiety that this might be so, 
 thrilling through her sweet voice, had something terri- 
 ble in it. Her cheeks wore their deepest rose tint, 
 she looked very lovely. Nelly Love eyed her keenly. 
 
 "No, Lilian," I said, hastily, "a slight cut on the 
 temple, nothing serious." 
 
 203
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 The color left my sister's cheeks, she grew very 
 pale. "Why, I do believe you're sorry!" said Mrs. 
 Love. "I'm rather disappointed, myself, that he's 
 not hurt enough to have to stay a-bed for a week; or 
 hit hard enough to knock the devil out of him, any- 
 way. But I don't want him dead as you do. 
 What's he done that you hate him so? There's not 
 much of old Mother Eve in my make-up, as a general 
 thing, but I'm hanged if her infernal curiosity doesn't 
 stand up on its hind legs now. Come, tell us all 
 'about it. Oh, dear, here they all come!" 
 
 It was as she said. They came en masse from the 
 drawing-room as Herbert, escorted by Dr. Strong, 
 Mr. Carrington, Hervey, and some of the servants, 
 entered the house. There followed an odd silence, 
 to which succeeded a very storm of exclamations, ques-' 
 tions, regrets, insinuations, laughter. It was all ex- 
 ceedingly unpleasant, but I had to endure the discom- 
 fort as best I might. Dr. Strong hustled Herbert into 
 his room, which opened off the hall, to plaster the ugly 
 cut below his temple ; but Herbert paused in the door- 
 way and addressed the crowd: 
 
 "Please forgive me, good people," he said, with his 
 sunniest smile, "for not being killed outright. I 
 know I deserved it first losing my way, then my 
 temper, and lastly my control of the horses. I've not 
 been a good boy to-night." 
 
 "You've been a damn fool," said Mr. Bandhar, with 
 startling frankness, and an awful solemnity of utter- 
 ance. He had taken too much wine and was cross 
 drunk. "If Mrs. Rappelle had been with me, I'd 
 have known how to take care of her. You're stuck 
 on yourself, that's what's the matter with you. I bet 
 you'd bolted, and that's what got her home safe. I've 
 lost a pot of money, I have, and all because of you." 
 
 "Oh, be quiet, do!" sang Nelly Love at the top of 
 her lungs. "You make me really ill! I never can 
 
 204
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 stand the top-notch spirits of tipsy people when I'm 
 not so myself." 
 
 "I ain't tipsy " protested Bandhar, still more sol- 
 emnly, but wild laughter from the others drowned his 
 voice. 
 
 Mrs. Allenby now came forward to express her re- 
 grets for the accident, and the others followed suit. 
 
 At last when I despaired of ever being alone 
 they dispersed for the night. I was thankful to gain 
 my own room, and hoped for only my faithful Cheva- 
 lier as companion he had not left me for a moment 
 since my return but in this I was disappointed. 
 Josette was waiting for me, and her tear-stained face 
 told me that my femme de chanibre was not without 
 affection for her mistress. Later Lilian came in. 
 Her pretty face was very pale. She looked care- 
 worn, unhappy. 
 
 "I hope you're satisfied," she began, as Josette left 
 us, "for you certainly have done it now! Rappelle 
 will turn you off, sure as shooting, and then what will 
 become of me, I'd like to know? It was all your 
 fault, because you would choose that hateful ribbon: 
 
 ' Oh, green's forsaken,' 
 Of course you went and got lost after that, and- 
 
 "Hush !" I said, sternly. "Do you mean to say you 
 think I liked being lost with Herbert? You gave me 
 the ribbon yourself, but that is neither here nor there, 
 it does not matter now. Do you believe I was late 
 on purpose?" 
 
 "Yes, I do, Theo Braithe! You love flirting bet- 
 ter than your life. You thought Bertie a tough sub- 
 ject I wish to God he were dead, the devil and 
 subdue him you must and would. Well, it's done. 
 He's a fool about you, in his nasty, treacherous way 
 but you needn't flatter yourself, it won't last long. 
 
 205
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 How you got home again to-night I really don't know. 
 I thought your luck was over." 
 
 I knew that I had escaped through God's great 
 mercy, but I was shy, as always, about speaking of 
 my faith to Lilian. I thought, however, that she 
 ought to know of Herbert's true character, disagree- 
 able as it was to me to speak of my experience; for, 
 although she talked against him, I had noticed that 
 she seemed ever ready to follow his suggestions as in 
 the matter of the ribbons and to be guided by him. 
 So I told her just what had taken place. She was 
 paler even than before, when I had finished. 
 
 "Then he is in earnest!" she exclaimed, in tones of 
 despair. "What shall we do? What can we do?" 
 
 "Do?" I repeated, surprised. "Why, nothing. He 
 shall leave Braithe to-morrow." 
 
 Here Lilian's eyes fell upon my gown, and she 
 started back in evident horror. "Peacocks' feathers!" 
 she exclaimed. "That dreadful frock! First the 
 green ribbon, then that hateful pattern no wonder 
 you came to grief!" 
 
 "You don't mention the opal's loss," I said. I was 
 tired and cross, but that did not excuse the speech ; and 
 I had the grace to feel ashamed the moment it had 
 crossed my lips. 
 
 "The opal !" cried Lilian, her cheeks flushing. "I 
 had forgotten it bless you for reminding me. The 
 opal, the dear, dear opal! O Theo, we're all right, 
 after all." 
 
 She laughed softly, and began to dance lightly 
 about the room. Then she swept a courtesy, kissed 
 my cheek, and without a word of explanation went 
 away. 
 
 206
 
 The day had come when I left my little oratory, 
 where I had poured out my heart in gratitude for my 
 safety, and flung myself upon my bed, hoping for a 
 few hours of sleep. But because of my overstrung 
 nerves for I could not cease re-living, in my brain, 
 the wild happenings of the night and my poignant 
 anxiety in regard to Etienne's judgment, this hope 
 proved vain. I was glad indeed when all the clocks 
 in the house, in uneven chorus, struck seven. Then 
 I rose, and dressing without the help of my over-tired 
 maid, went down to breakfast quietly with Jane. I 
 found her in the dining-room with Hervey, helping 
 him put the finishing touches to the breakfast table. 
 
 "The early bird catches the willing horse, Mrs. 
 Rappelle," said Hervey, including Janey and me in 
 his gentle, deprecatory smile, "and Miss Jane is help- 
 ing me, as you see." 
 
 One of his subordinates here summoned him from 
 the room. 
 
 "I wish he would not get the proverbs all wrong," 
 said Janey, sighing as if in despair over this peculiar- 
 ity of Hervey's. "If only one might change people 
 just a little bit, Theo, how nice it would be!" 
 
 "Begin on me, pet," I said, smiling. "Tell me my 
 faults and I'll try to change." 
 
 To my surprise the child colored hotly. 
 
 "You would rather not, Janey? Very well. I'll 
 imagine you think me perfect." She got up hastily 
 and hid her face on my shoulder. "Janey!" I cried, 
 much alarmed. "My dear little sister! What is it? 
 Have I hurt your feelings? Tell me what pains you." 
 
 "I'm so afraid you will try to change, and die!" 
 207
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 she burst out, desperately. "Mrs. Love says you'd be 
 too good to live without it, that flirting is what keeps 
 you alive. Oh, dear, oh, dear, now I've gone and 
 told!" 
 
 Fortunately Hervey came back at this moment, to 
 say that Mr. Gill had come for a puppy promised him 
 Brett's bull terrier had a fine growing family and 
 would Miss Jane say which one she could best spare? 
 Forgetting her woes the child danced away into the 
 hall, but presently reappeared, followed, at what 
 might be called a bashful distance, by Brett and Mr. 
 Gill. 
 
 "Mrs. Gill has sent messages, Theo," Janey an- 
 nounced, with importance, "and I thought Mr. Gill 
 looked as if he'd rather give 'em to you than to me." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Jane!" objected Mr. Gill into his hat 
 he held it tight against his mouth. "Dear me, not at 
 all." 
 
 I went forward and greeted the two men. Both 
 told me, shyly, of their pleasure in learning of my safe 
 return. 
 
 "I mentioned to Mrs. Gill that I'd best step over, 
 and pass a few words as to our congratulations on your 
 Mrs. Gill said providential escape, and Mrs. Gill 
 was quite agreeable as to my so doing, Mrs. Rap- 
 pelle." 
 
 " 'Twas a new rein, Mrs. Rappelle, as broke," said 
 Brett quickly, in his turn, "and I can't see why them 
 horses ran. Thank God, you're safe, anyway." 
 
 I was very grateful for such kind thoughts and said 
 so. The men would not take a cup of coffee, and, 
 wishing to show my appreciation of their courtesy, I 
 took roses from the vases on the sideboard, and offered 
 to each a small bunch. "I am so fond of roses," I said, 
 smiling, "that Mr. Rappelle has had a rose-garden 
 made for me. These monthly roses will bloom for me 
 all summer, I hope." 
 
 208
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "They should be trewly pleased to do so," said Mr. 
 Gill, blushing deeply. 
 
 "Mrs. Gill may not have any of this variety," I 
 added. 
 
 "Mrs. Gill will be trewly grateful," said her young 
 husband, in a tone that said he would like to see her 
 presume to be anything else. 
 
 "I hear you were coming to look for me, Brett," I 
 said, gently, as I gave him the flowers, "that you, with 
 Mr. Carrington, were getting ready to do so when I 
 arrived. Thank you, Brett. It is very pleasant to me 
 to know of the interest you took in my safety." 
 
 "And now let's go look at the puppies," said Jane, 
 mercifully relieving Brett from the agony of speech. 
 
 Hervey stared at me as they awkwardly took their 
 leave, his head on one side, an odd smile curving his 
 lips. Then he said, slowly: "In your beautiful heart, 
 dear madam, the rich and the poor meet together, 
 since the Lord is their Maker, big and small, after 
 all." 
 
 I smiled my thanks for his kind words. "And now, 
 Peter," I said, gayly, "since I have robbed you to 
 pay Paul, I must get more roses for your vases." I 
 went into the pantry for basket and scissors. 
 
 "No, no," said Hervey, following me, "the side- 
 board looks as well without flowers. Why gild the lily 
 and paint the rosy cheek, dear madam?" 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 "I am going to the rose-garden, Hervey," I pro- 
 tested, "so I may as well gather some." 
 
 "Gather your roses in May and December, Mrs. 
 Rappelle, and may your heyday be ever shining," was 
 the quaint response. And the Chevalier and I wan- 
 dered on into the garden together. 
 
 When we reached the old sun-dial, that had marked 
 the time for so many generations of Braithes, I did 
 not turn aside into the rose-garden, but followed the 
 
 209
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 path through the woodland to the chapel. An odd de- 
 sire to stand close to Lydia's grave impelled me thith- 
 er. How thankful she would have been for Herbert's 
 failure ! My eyes filled with tears as I thought of my 
 unselfish little stepmother of her beautiful generos- 
 ity, of her loyal heart. 
 
 In the doorway of the chapel stood Mr. Brace. He 
 came forward eagerly to meet me, and, holding out 
 his hand, congratulated me, shyly, upon my escape. 
 I was touched by his friendly feeling. 
 
 "Perhaps," he said still more shyly "you will 
 come in, and we can offer up a prayer of thanksgiving 
 together." 
 
 I assented gratefully. And when I returned to the 
 house I was almost myself again. I began to believe 
 I had been worrying unnecessarily over what Etienne 
 might think. Perhaps he, too, would be kind. I had 
 stopped long enough in the garden to gather some 
 roses. These I intended for the green punch-bowl in 
 the library, as peace-offering to Etienne. I was 
 amused to see that the baize door was closed, showing 
 that Hervey wished to prevent anyone from entering 
 his master's sanctum during his absence. Rather an 
 unnecessary precaution I thought as I opened it, and 
 the heavy mahogany door it concealed, and entered, 
 since the only one of our guests stirring appeared to 
 be Mr. Bandhar, of whom I had caught a glimpse as 
 he was hurrying down to the river for his morning 
 swim. 
 
 The room looked remarkably cheerful in the morn- 
 ing sunshine. Even the portrait of Old Vivian wore 
 almost a benevolent expression. Humming a little 
 French song, I busied myself over my task, filling the 
 bowl on the big table with roses. In the midst of a 
 silent moment, when carefully detaching the thorns 
 from the stem of an exquisite red rosebud, I became 
 conscious that I was not alone. Glancing up I saw 
 
 210
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Etienne standing on the hearth-rug, watching me. 
 He had entered noiselessly, through the secret door, 
 from his room behind the chimney. 
 
 "Etienne!" I exclaimed in pleased surprise, the col- 
 or rushing into my cheeks, forgetting for the moment 
 my previous dread of meeting him. "When did you 
 come home? How long have you been here?" 
 
 "I came home over an hour ago," he said, slowly. 
 "I have been here perhaps two minutes enjoying a 
 picture of wifely devotion." 
 
 I had been so glad to see him, but his words, the 
 sarcastic tone of his usually pleasant voice, drove the 
 blood back to my heart. Pale, trembling, I looked at 
 him across the roses, terrified by this realization of all 
 my fears. 
 
 "Pray sit down," he continued, pushing Old Viv- 
 ian's great arm-chair toward me. "I have much to say 
 to you." 
 
 But I moved to a distant sofa, and seated myself in 
 the middle. Did he choose either place beside me I 
 could slip to the farther end, and so avoid his close 
 neighborhood. It was an old sofa, covered with rich- 
 ly flowered brocade, ruby-colored to match the vel- 
 vet of the chairs, and on its high back crouched the 
 two Leopards of the House. I was tired of filling 
 the chair of my great-great-great-grandfather, while 
 Etienne looked down upon me from his commanding 
 position upon the hearth-rug. I knew that I should 
 need every advantage I could seize in the coming 
 storm he was so very angry, and I, to a certain ex- 
 tent, guilty. 
 
 Instead of sharing my sofa, however, he placed a 
 chair directly in front of me, and sitting down, faced 
 me, as judge before a culprit. At the same time he 
 took a letter from his pocket and said : 
 
 "It's a pity Randoce can't see you now. He would 
 rush for palette and brush to paint your portrait 
 
 211
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 for the hundreth time, Theo ? How many pictures 
 of my wife did the man carry away ?" 
 
 I did not answer. I could not answer sneers. 
 
 "That wine-colored brocade suits your rich beauty, 
 Theo. Stay, let me heap these cushions beneath this 
 arm, and lay your hand, with its red rosebud, upon 
 them so," arranging arm and hand to suit his strange 
 fancy. "Now you are posed to read a love-letter, and 
 here is one." 
 
 He placed the letter he had taken from his pocket 
 upon my lap; I saw that it was from Monsieur Ran- 
 doce. My cup was surely over-full. Desperation 
 roused my Braithe blood. 
 
 "Perhaps you will read it to me?" I said, softly. 
 "But first let me give you this rose I took all its 
 thorns off myself, Etienne," I smiled up at him, "but 
 I did not prick my fingers." 
 
 "No," he thundered in sudden fury, "you play 
 with edged tools so often that you have learned a 
 marvellous dexterity. The thorns of a half-blown 
 rose possess no danger for your well-accustomed fin- 
 gers. No," he lowered his voice and spoke slowly, 
 with incisive bitterness, "it is not your fingers that are 
 cut, but your reputation and the hearts of otherwise 
 honest men." 
 
 I would have sprung to my feet he grasped my 
 hands and held me down ; I would have poured out the 
 flood of indignant words that rushed to my lips but 
 he enforced silence. 
 
 "Wait until I have done before you speak," he 
 said, imperiously. "Time so gained may help you to 
 arrange a defence of your conduct you will need all 
 your wit to find excuses that I can accept, believe 
 me." 
 
 "I make none," I said, with paling lips, "since I 
 knew nothing of the miniature, and remained out late 
 last night because of an accident. You are crushing 
 
 212
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 my hands, Etienne!" He released them. "Ah! my 
 lovely rose, it droops wilted." 
 
 He took the soft, rosy thing from me, and, ab- 
 sently, as if not thinking of what he did, laid it on the 
 chimney-piece beneath the portrait of Old Vivian. 
 Returning, he drew his chair sidewise directly in 
 front of me, close against my knees, and, thus impris- 
 oning me, reseated himself. 
 
 "May I ask how late it was when the 'accident' took 
 place?" 
 
 I remained silent. 
 
 "You prefer not to answer?" he went on. "Per- 
 haps it is as well, since I have heard too much to be- 
 lieve your probable version of the affair readily. Dr. 
 Strong I stopped in to see him on my way home 
 told me what he thought might exonerate you ; of the 
 choice by ribbon, and the broken rein. As Brett re- 
 ceived private orders in regard to the horses, trap, rib- 
 bon everything, in short, I am not impressed with 
 your innocence, as the simple doctor wished me to be, 
 but merely by his desire to shield you. Ah, they are 
 all alike, all infected with the same madness!" He 
 rose and began to pace up and down before me. 
 "Even that fool Bandhar, the butt of everybody, bet 
 heavily that you would not return because, as he kind- 
 ly informs me, he always loses. He adds that I need 
 not insult him by offering to reimburse him, as he 
 considers his money well lost in your cause. He also 
 states that if I cannot stay at home to look after you 
 myself, I had better put you in his charge when I go 
 away!" 
 
 Etienne's voice was steeped in bitterness, but an 
 insane desire to laugh at Mr. Bandhar's wish to play 
 chaperon a Braithe desire took possession of me; 
 and between the tears in my heart and the laughter in 
 my blood, I felt on the verge of an hysterical attack. 
 
 "This moves you to mirth, I see," said Etienne, sit- 
 213
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ting down again, and looking sternly into my eyes. 
 "Perhaps it is natural that it should. I confess that 
 a woman of your singular temperament is difficult for 
 a commonplace man, like myself, to comprehend. 
 When you offered yourself in marriage to me 
 
 "What?" I exclaimed, lifting my drooping head to 
 stare at him in astonishment, startled out of my trem- 
 ulousness by the extraordinary nature of this new in- 
 sult. "I offered myself? I fail to understand you." 
 
 "When you offered yourself in marriage to me," he 
 repeated steadily,"! was surprised, but because of my 
 knowledge of Braithe ways not too much so. How- 
 ever, I was fool enough in spite of this knowledge 
 to imagine that you would behave yourself with com- 
 mon decency when I acceded to your rather strange 
 request. And I shall ask, no, command you to do so 
 in future," he was shaken by a sudden tempest of pas- 
 sion. "I'll not have my honest name soiled with the 
 dirt of a divorce court, either, so make no mistake. I 
 am a common man. I hold by the old common ways 
 and beliefs. You are my wife, and my wife you shall 
 remain till death us do part." 
 
 His voice sank, a strange expression stole into his 
 hard eyes, a look of iron determination crept about his 
 mouth. I saw and heard, yet all the time my mind 
 was searching, searching. My anger against these 
 false charges was fast dying. He spoke again. 
 
 "Because you happen to amuse yourself, to flirt, in- 
 tellectually, I hold you none the less " 
 
 I had found my clue at last, and was so much ab- 
 sorbed in following it up that I interrupted him 
 rudely: 
 
 "I understand it all," I cried, in an outburst of 
 scornful indignation. "He knew but too well how to 
 keep his wicked memory green! Yes, you may well 
 speak of the Braithes with contempt. I come of an 
 evil race, indeed. The letter he left for me drove my 
 
 214
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 poor Lydia almost mad; it hastened her death. And 
 Lilian's thank God I did not read it, though he 
 meant I should Lilian's killed the remnant of affec- 
 tion that, after his death, she seemed to have for him. 
 It is my turn now." 
 
 Etienne looked at me as if he thought I were trying 
 to turn him from further rebuke. 
 
 "Pray explain yourself," he said, coldly. 
 
 I looked at him with a sudden revulsion of feeling. 
 A great pity for this honest man, who had been cheat- 
 ed into marrying me, filled my heart. 
 
 "Listen, Etienne," I said, gravely, regaining my 
 calmness with an effort, "and tell me if what I sus- 
 pect is true. In the letter that I forwarded you after 
 Mr. Braithe's death, did he ask you to marry me?" 
 
 Etienne colored slightly. "Why do you always call 
 your father 'Mr. Braithe'?" he asked, curiously. "It 
 sounds strangely." 
 
 "He behaved as a stranger an unkind one to his 
 children, Etienne. How may I think of God as the 
 great All-Father if I use the same word for Mr. 
 Braithe ? I wish that your father had been mine, that 
 I might have been born Theodora Rappelle, child of 
 an honest ancestry." My eyes filled with tears, my 
 cheeks flushed. I was deeply moved. 
 
 Etienne looked at me with increased suspicion in 
 his cold eyes, but I paid no heed. He had a right to 
 suspect me of acting a part to deceive,him; he had a 
 right to think the worst. My right, in my turn, was 
 to see Mr. Braithe's letter. I demanded it. 
 
 "No, no," said Etienne, hastily, "I prefer not." 
 
 "Your preference is as nothing compared with my 
 right," I insisted, "but if you won't show it, tell me 
 the gist of it. You are usually just, Etienne." 
 
 He remained silent, but I read the look in his eyes. 
 "You think I already know it?" I said, almost whis- 
 pering in my horror at his thought 
 
 215
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "I think it extremely likely." 
 
 This was, indeed, an insult. I knew that my face 
 grew white as I asked, in low tones, "Have I ev.er lied 
 to you? Have I ever, to your knowledge or belief, 
 lied to any one?" 
 
 "No," he said, shortly. "And if you will swear, by 
 all you hold sacred but what a fool I am! You per- 
 jured yourself when you married me. You swore to 
 obey me. Of course I knew you did not mean the rest 
 of it, but that I believed." 
 
 "And you?" I asked, with sudden heat, "are you 
 blameless? You meant as little as I." Then I re- 
 membered his money, but I thought I would not speak 
 of it; it was too hateful, too degrading. Honesty, 
 however, drove me to do so. "I beg your pardon," I 
 said, slowly. "You have lived up to your part of the 
 bargain more than done so. Never mind about the 
 letter, Etienne," I went on, sadly. "A man so deeply 
 wronged as you is naturally suspicious of evil. Had I 
 known that letter was a trap, I would have burned it. 
 You may believe me or not as you choose. Since I 
 am Mr. Braithe's daughter the great law of God or- 
 dains that I must suffer for his sin, but if I can prevent 
 it you shall not." 
 
 "May I ask your remedy?" 
 
 I looked at him earnestly, but he had half turned 
 away, and was staring into the mass of ferns that filled 
 the old fireplace. 
 
 "It is for you to say what you wish done, Etienne. 
 I suppose a marriage like ours could " I faltered, 
 then stopped short. What I felt I must say was so en- 
 tirely contrary to my own view of what was right. 
 
 "Finish your sentence, Theo." 
 
 "Could be annulled," I said at last, desperately. 
 "I think I had better become Theo Braithe again." 
 
 There followed a long silence, then Etienne spoke : 
 
 "If the name that you now bear," he said, slowly, 
 21G
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "pleases you as you say it does why do you make 
 this suggestion? Not that our marriage could be an- 
 nulled; the law forbids." 
 
 "I was not thinking of myself," I murmured, "but 
 of you." Then, taking my courage in both hands, I 
 burst out with the truth. "I think you ought to be 
 free, Etienne." 
 
 "Free to do what?" he questioned. 
 
 I could not bring myself to answer. 
 
 "Free to marry again, Theo ? Can you honestly say 
 that you think that would be right? Answer, please." 
 
 "No," I said, under my breath. 
 
 "Then of what use would my freedom be to me?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "You would be rid of me, at least," I insisted, my 
 eyes brimming with the long-repressed tears. 
 
 He took both my hands gently in his. 
 
 "Tell me, Theo," he said, quietly, "did you know 
 of last night's arrangements beforehand?" 
 
 "No, Etienne." 
 
 "Did you have even an inkling that the miniature 
 was being painted? Don't cry, child." 
 
 "No, no, indeed," I said, earnestly. "And I am so 
 sorry, so very sorry about it. And I don't mean to 
 behave badly, Etienne, I " 
 
 "There, there," he said, patting my hands sooth- 
 ingly, "perhaps I've been over-hasty after all. Come, 
 open that poor chap's letter, and let's see if he has 
 come to his senses. But you must be careful, Theo," 
 as, with fingers that shook a little, I opened the envel- 
 ope; "the part of policeman is not at all to my taste; 
 don't force it upon me again." Inside the letter, a 
 conventional one of thanks, was tucked a little note. 
 "Ah!" said Etienne, as his keen eyes spied it. "What 
 follows now, Theo?" 
 
 "This," I said calmly, although the blood surged 
 into my face, and handing him the letter, "this you 
 
 217
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 will read to me, but the note I shall beg you to destroy 
 unread." 
 
 He took them both and sat watching me curiously. 
 
 "Meaning, since you cannot I shall not?" he said. 
 
 I shook my head. "Meaning simply," I answered, 
 gravely, "that neither of us wishes to treat a friend ill, 
 by watching him when he is not himself." And I 
 would have given my rope of pearls to have under- 
 stood what the look in Etienne's eyes meant. 
 
 Alas! I felt always at a disadvantage with him, be- 
 cause he was my benefactor and my husband. My 
 own feelings were in too great a tumult to read his 
 aright. I lost my power, my light touch, my skill in 
 extricating myself from threatening situations, when 
 I was alone with him. 
 
 "I can't help being sorry for Kandoce," said 
 Etienne, musingly. "He's a good sort generally, and 
 he was my friend. I don't want to lose all my friends, 
 Theo." He smiled, quizzically. "Supposing the 
 next time you want to flirt you try your hand on me. 
 What do you say to that, will it amuse you suffi- 
 ciently?" 
 
 "It's odd that you have never been in love," I said 
 then was horrified to have thought aloud. 
 
 "Why?" asked Etienne, quickly. 
 
 "Because you are so warm-hearted," I said, and had 
 the grace to blush at my words. 
 
 "Who told you I had never been in love, Theo?" 
 
 He pushed his chair back as he spoke, and rose. 
 The interview was evidently over. 
 
 "You did, Etienne." 
 
 "Then I lied," he said, coolly. "I suppose I was 
 ashamed to confess my weakness." 
 
 "O Etienne!" I gasped; it seemed to me that 
 tragedy lurked close at hand. "Did she did she 
 die?" I spoke very softly. 
 
 "No," he said, quietly, "she married." 
 218
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 My tongue ran away with me again. "0 Etienne !" 
 I cried, "what will you do if she becomes a widow ?" 
 
 "I most sincerely hope she may not," he said, begin- 
 ning to tear Monsieur Randoce's note into small 
 pieces, and dropping them one by one into the 
 waste-paper basket. 
 
 I sat silent, my eyes fixed upon him, but my 
 thoughts far away. Had I, by any chance, met this 
 woman? Was I likely to meet her? Where did she 
 live ? Whom had she married ? 
 
 "You regret that it is destroyed?" asked Etienne, 
 looking up, and misinterpreting my steady gaze. 
 "You wish that you might have read it?" 
 
 "No," I said, quickly. "I was not thinking of the 
 note at all." 
 
 "Of the writer, perhaps, Theo?" 
 
 "No," I answered, shortly, "I had forgotten his 
 existence." 
 
 "What is it that interests you then?" he inquired. 
 "Of what are you thinking so intently. Ah!" as the 
 color swept into my cheeks, "is it possible that you 
 are studying me with a view to " 
 
 "No," I interrupted, brusquely, vexed by his smile, 
 by the amusement in his eyes, "I was thinking of of 
 her." 
 
 "Her?" he repeated, looking at me in surprise. 
 "Yes, yes," as I would have explained, "I know now 
 whom you mean. Well, what can I tell you of 
 her?" 
 
 I bitterly regretted having spoken on impulse, and 
 so betrayed what I felt to be an unpardonable curios- 
 ity. But I had gone too far to make silence possible. 
 
 "I was merely wondering," I said, lamely, though 
 striving to appear at ease, "if I had had the pleasure 
 of meeting her when we were in town." Then recov- 
 ering myself a little, I added: "I trust that she, at 
 least, is happily married!" 
 
 219
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "JSTo," said Etienne, rather sadly, "I fear not. She 
 has married a very ordinary man, and he fails to un- 
 derstand her." 
 
 He fell silent, absorbed in his own thoughts. I was 
 glad that I could not read them since that I was for- 
 gotten seemed but too probable. 
 
 "I shall speak to Fayne," he said, at last, abruptly. 
 "He ought to remember that he is grown up. The 
 time for boyish deviltry is over." 
 
 "He is going away this morning," I said. 
 
 "Going away?" Etienne repeated, in astonishment. 
 
 "Yes," I said, hastily, "his visit is ended." Then 
 remembering that I had not yet seen Mr. Braithe's 
 unpardonable letter, the letter I had so foolishly for- 
 warded, I asked for it again. But Etienne evinced 
 no disposition to show it. I persisted, however. 
 "Please, please, Etienne," I pleaded, "just to prove 
 you really believe now that I was in ignorance of his 
 plan. You do believe, Etienne ?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said, uncomfortably, "and if I must, 
 I must. But I'd much rather not talk about it, 
 Theo." 
 
 "I know. Go on, please. He said " 
 
 "Well, he said, that is he gave me to understand 
 that is " 
 
 "Yes," I murmured, encouragingly. 
 
 "He said that if you sent the letter, Theo," Etienne 
 spoke very gravely, "it would mean that you agreed 
 with him in his wishes. And now let's forget all 
 about it. I only hope he has not made you too 
 miserable." 
 
 "He said more than that," I said, slowly, thinking 
 hard as I went over Etienne's version. I knew Mr. 
 Braithe too well to be so kindly cheated. "He said 
 that the sending of his letter by me meant that 
 I was as anxious, as eager, as he, that the plan 
 might be carried out that I had, in point of fact, sug- 
 
 220
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 gested, Very delicately, of course, my dear Rap- 
 pelle ' " 
 
 "Theo!" cried Etienne, staring at me in almost 
 comical surprise. "How can you expect me to believe 
 that you did not see the letter when " 
 
 "When I repeat it word for word?" I said, finishing 
 his sentence for him. I smiled coldly. "You forget, 
 Etienne, that I am his daughter." 
 
 "Don't look so hard and cold," he began. 
 
 Before he had time to say more there came a gen- 
 tle, yet peremptory, knock at the door; and, without 
 waiting for permission, Hervey entered. 
 
 "Now what under heaven do you want?" asked 
 Etienne, crossly. 
 
 But I, I smiled a kind welcome. I was only too 
 much pleased by the coming of Hervey Merle. 
 
 221
 
 XX 
 
 Hervey advanced slowly toward us through the 
 long room. Etienne grew impatient. 
 
 "Well, Merle," he said, "does Mr. Bandhar want 
 to see me again, or what is it? I hope that you've not 
 come to bother me about nothing." 
 
 "Mr. Bandhar, sir," said Hervey, his eyes fixed upon 
 me with a look in them that reminded me of the 
 Chevalier, "Mr. Bandhar, sir, is in the river." 
 
 "What?" exclaimed Etienne, startled. 
 
 "Endeavoring to swim, sir," said Hervey, still look- 
 ing at me, although addressing Etienne. "Leander 
 swam the hellish pond, as we all know, but though you 
 can take a horse to the water you can't make him 
 dive." 
 
 Etienne smiled. "Then what have you come for?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "A peer eye at the gates of Paradise, sir, is not to 
 my taste. I told Mr. Fayne I'd let you know if he 
 wanted to see you he's outside." 
 
 "Tell him to come in," said Etienne. "But first 
 get me a pretty vase, Merle, a dainty one. Mrs. Rap- 
 pelle has given me a rose. I want to put it on my 
 desk it must not wither too soon." He looked at me 
 and smiled. I blushed. His acceptance of the half- 
 crushed bud amazed me. I had thought it forgotten, 
 in its hiding-place under the portrait of Old Vivian. 
 Hervey looked at the floor. He was the picture of a 
 meek family servant. 
 
 "A vase, sir, for a rose? Oh, yes, sir. The quality 
 of mercy is not strange, since it is more blessed to give 
 
 222
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 than to receive sour looks. Mr. Gill and Brett, Mrs. 
 Rappelle, were very grateful for the roses. The lower 
 orders love a charming giver. But Mr. Fayne will 
 grow impatient. Patient waiters grow cross, as the 
 proverb says." 
 
 He selected a small vase from a cabinet in a distant 
 corner, and left the room. 
 
 "Since you have been distributing your roses," said 
 Etienne, half jestingly, half sadly, "I suppose I must 
 be thankful not to have been forgotten." 
 
 I blushed again, as I said hurriedly, "Mrs. Gill cares 
 so much for flowers, Etienne, and poor Brett had been 
 up all night because of my accident. Some coachmen 
 would have scolded." 
 
 "I thought it was Gill who came," said Etienne, 
 watching me closely. 
 
 "Yes, but of course his wife sent him, Etienne." 
 
 "Oh, of course, Theo," ironically. "And Merle, 
 what did he get?" I was silent. "The thorns I 
 should judge, from his curious remarks. Really I 
 sometimes think he does me the honor to be jealous 
 of me not that he has any reason to be; you seem 
 more his friend than mine." 
 
 "Etienne!" I murmured, deprecatingly. My color 
 came and went under his steady gaze. I was not en- 
 joying myself. I even wished Herbert would come, 
 and wondered what had become of him. 
 
 "An odd position mine," continued Etienne, "when 
 you stop to consider it. My butler one of my rivals ! 
 I suppose he thinks I ought to have been content to 
 serve behind your chair, since I'm not so far above him 
 after all seeing that my great-grandfather was," 
 turning to nod at Old Vivian, "his servant." 
 
 "Etienne!" I exclaimed, "how can you say such 
 things! You are unkind." 
 
 "Unkind?" he questioned, but here Janey opened 
 the door and thrust in her golden head. 
 
 223
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "May I come in?" she piped, gayly, in her sweet 
 childish treble. "Mrs. Love is with me." 
 
 I was grateful for the interruption. 
 
 "Hervey asked me to put this on your desk, 
 Etienne," said my small sister, carrying, with pretty 
 care, the little vase, now filled with water. "He's 
 awful cross I don't know why and said something 
 about not minding looking for a rich man in the eye 
 of a needle so much as being obliged to hunt for a 
 snake in the grass." 
 
 "He means that little-tin-god-on-wheels, Fayne," 
 explained Mrs. Love, shaking her mop of curls at me 
 and looking wicked. "Hervey's the dearest old chap 
 alive, and the way he picks up everything beats the 
 band! Fayne was out-Heroding Herod shaking an- 
 cestors off his Family Tree on my head the other day, 
 hard nuts every one of them I'll bet, begging your 
 pardon, lovely girl"; she caught my hand and kissed 
 it. "You're the saint that leavens the lump, you 
 know. Well, to continue, I got headache from the 
 bumps on my occiput (don't grin, Jane, my child, it's 
 very uncivil!) and I went wild. 'The first ancestor 
 you ever had was the Snake on the Tree of Knowl- 
 edge,' I said, 'and as I'm not Grandmamma Eve, you 
 needn't talk rot to me.' Then Hervey he ups and 
 says for he has the big head, Hervey has, 'Those 
 who live in glass houses, Mrs. Love, shouldn't throw 
 stones from inside; since, though seeing through a 
 glass darkens, when a pane is gone any fool can read 
 the writing on the wall.' I suppose the dear old boy 
 doesn't approve of my style of conversation, Mrs. 
 Theo." 
 
 "You can afford to laugh at tall talk about ances- 
 try," said Etienne, courteously. 
 
 "Ancestry be hanged!" she said, quickly. "Yes, 
 I have old blood and look at me. A nice kind of 
 scion I am." 
 
 224
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "You are a Love," I said, gently. 
 
 "Theo doesn't care for old family, either," said small 
 Jane, "but I'm afraid I do. I like all the horrible 
 things it brings, secrets, and ghosts, and portraits " 
 She glanced over her shoulder at Old Vivian. "Theo 
 says that every man must stand on his own feet, not 
 on a pile of dry ancestral bones; that he should be 
 brave, loyal-hearted, true like you and your people, 
 you know, Etienne" she interpolated, nodding to her 
 brother-in-law and disregarding my efforts to silence 
 her, "kind to the weak, and all that. And then she 
 doesn't care where he was born or how he was bred, 
 for it doesn't matter, seeing that the world is the better 
 for his being in it. Anyway Christ was nothing but 
 a carpenter." 
 
 A profound silence followed Jane's small sermon. 
 Etienne looked earnestly at me, as though he were 
 trying to read my inmost thoughts; while Mrs. Love 
 stared as earnestly at little Jane. The child always 
 seemed to fascinate her. 
 
 "Jane, my infant prodigy," she said at last, "when 
 you weary of life in these baronial halls come and 
 dwell with me. I just adore you." 
 
 "Then don't make fun of me, Mrs. Love," the child 
 answered promptly, "for my sense of humor is as 
 crooked as my back, and jokes like that make me 
 want to cuss as hard as you do." 
 
 Mrs. Love burst into wild laughter. "Isn't she just 
 the cutest kid?" she cried, turning to me for sym- 
 pathy. "I'd rather have her for a friend than any- 
 one I know barring you, of course, Madam R." 
 
 As she stopped speaking, Herbert entered. He 
 was looking extremely handsome, the slight pallor re- 
 sulting from his accident giving him a look of intel- 
 lectuality. I saw that he had replaced the white 
 sticking-plaster with which the doctor had mended his 
 cut, by a black strip, most becoming to his wonderful 
 
 225
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 complexion and sunny hair. An air of gentle melan- 
 choly as of one misunderstood by his fellow-men, yet 
 bearing them no ill-will for their lack of comprehen- 
 sion added to his usual grace of manner. Etienne 
 greeted him kindly. 
 
 "Glad you got off with that scratch, Fayne," he said. 
 "You had a narrow escape, I understand." 
 
 "Thank you, Rappelle, for letting me down so 
 easy," said Herbert, gently. "Most people are fond 
 of jumping on the under dog and that's what I am 
 just now, I guess." 
 
 "I thought that people were always sorry for the 
 under dog, Herbert," piped Jane. "Though why," 
 turning to Mrs. Love and me, and lowering her voice, 
 "I can't imagine; for he's sometimes a nasty, biting, 
 treacherous thing, and deserves to be got under and 
 punished." 
 
 "She beats the band, she certainly does!" said Mrs. 
 Love, in fond admiration. "Hush! Listen to the 
 Prodigal Son soft-soaping the Lord of the Manor. 
 Heavens, but he has the gift of the gab! Still, that's 
 easy, when a lie more or less doesn't matter to you." 
 
 Herbert was, indeed, apologizing with easy grace 
 to Etienne for the misadventure of the past night. 
 
 "It was perfectly unpardonable of me to lose my 
 way," he was saying, as we began to listen, "and Theo 
 could not forgive me. She was quite right, too" he 
 flashed a quick glance at me "since before turning 
 into a road you should make sure of it. I ought to 
 have asked her first." 
 
 "It was natural enough," said Etienne, kindly. 
 "You haven't been in this neighborhood for years. 
 As for the rein breaking, no one could have foreseen 
 that. They were new ones, Brett tells me, and sup- 
 posed to be of the best make." 
 
 "And for pretending to be Bandhar," Herbert 
 continued, "for that's what I did, you know, as 
 
 226
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Theo must have told you well, I suppose it was 
 awfully silly, but Theo's polite efforts to induce 
 me to talk, and desperate endeavors to make 
 believe that she wasn't bored, were too comical. 
 Then, when she fell asleep from ennui, I lost my bear- 
 ings and took the wrong turn somehow I hated to 
 wake her, she looked so tired, and I was afraid she 
 might be cross." 
 
 He laughed, a sweet boyish laugh, full of innocent 
 youthful gayety. Etienne's suspicions had vanished, 
 that was easily seen, and Mrs. Love evidently began 
 to judge him less harshly. And I, my heart full of 
 bitterness, stood by and listened to his specious words 
 without being able to give them the lie. In spite of 
 myself, I had become almost his accomplice, since I 
 must, perforce, share in his duplicity. I suffered in- 
 tensely as I stood silent; my eyes cast down that I 
 might, at least, avoid receiving another of his glances. 
 
 "I think that you're awfully good to me, Rappelle," 
 he went on, his charming voice having just the right 
 tone of guileless gratitude, "but I can't be quite com- 
 fortable while Theo is so angry she does bear malice 
 so long. Although, of course, she's in the right. She 
 always is which is rough on me and other sinners." 
 
 He sighed, in a quick boyish way, then, with appar- 
 ent effort, turned the sigh into a second laugh a sad 
 one. He had managed, with consummate cleverness, 
 to make me appear an ill-tempered, straitlaced 
 creature; while he himself was but a rather thought- 
 less fellow, too fond of teasing an old playmate. I 
 knew, without raising my eyes, that Etienne had be- 
 gun to feel ashamed of his anger toward me, that he 
 would be unnecessarily hospitable to Herbert in conse- 
 quence. I should be obliged to join in asking Her- 
 bert to prolong his visit, or be considered unwarrant- 
 ably unforgiving. 
 
 "Won't you forgive me before I go, Dolly?" Her- 
 227
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 bert said, suddenly. "Just for the sake of auld lang 
 syne?" 
 
 I glanced at Etienne to see how he would take this 
 daring speech, but like all truly generous people who 
 believe that they have done an injustice, he was deter- 
 mined, apparently, to look upon Herbert as nothing 
 but my boy cousin. Although I admired this gener- 
 ous spirit, somehow I felt exasperated when Etienne 
 said: 
 
 "Nonsense, Fayne! Theo and I look to you to 
 help us through with our house-parties. You are 
 booked to stop with us all summer if you will." 
 
 Herbert's splendid blue eyes flashed his triumph 
 into mine. "May I really stay, Dora?" he asked. 
 
 This was too much for my sorely tried temper. 
 But and I, myself, could not understand why my 
 wrath was against Etienne. Herbert had suddenly 
 become as nothing in my eyes. "Since Mr. Rappelle 
 needs you, yes," I said, softly. "And, doubtless, he 
 will like me to give you this rose." 
 
 So saying, I took from my bunch on the table a full- 
 blown tea-rose, and gave it to him. Forgetting his 
 role of guileless playfellow, he sprang forward, took it 
 with too great eagerness and pricked his fingers. I 
 had not cared to remove any thorns for him. 
 
 "Ah, Theo!" he exclaimed, reproachfully, "it is full 
 of thorns." 
 
 "Why, yes," I said, smiling, "Braithe fingers know 
 how to handle thorns. We wound others with them 
 but skilfully avoid them ourselves." 
 
 "You have certainly wounded me," he said, slowly. 
 
 And I had the poor satisfaction of seeing Etienne 
 uneasy. 
 
 "Greek meeting Greek, isn't it?" said Mrs. Love, 
 with affected carelessness. 
 
 I felt ashamed of myself for so it seemed to me 
 the hundredth time that morning. I had no chance 
 
 228
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 to mend matters, however, since the room was sud- 
 denly invaded by a crowd of our guests. I was told 
 that tableaux had been suggested for Friday evening 
 of that week. They were to be given for a local 
 charity, so that a number of people might come with- 
 out impropriety. 
 
 "We remembered that you were in mourning, dear 
 Mrs. Rappelle," Mrs. Allenby sweetly explained. 
 
 They had come to the library to search for subjects 
 and costumes. A pleasant bustle ensued. The large 
 room was filled with the sound of well-modulated 
 voices, the flutter of laces and ribbons, the scent of orris. 
 I had an odd sensation of being an outsider, of having 
 no real place in this gay throng ; I felt old, grave, sad, 
 and over-burdened by the weight my dead father had 
 placed upon my shoulders. Already the knowledge 
 of it had unsteadied me. I did not feel like myself, 
 but instead irritable, captious, hard to please. I 
 needed solitude, I longed for the retirement of my 
 cell ; but I was hostess, so must remain. 
 
 I was roused from my abstraction by Mrs. Allenby, 
 who asked to see my opal. 
 
 "It has so interesting a story," she said, "that I 
 long to see it." 
 
 I turned to Lilian who was endeavoring to dis- 
 suade the others from their wish to have the tableaux 
 on a Friday. 
 
 "It will bring bad luck," she said, with pretty 
 earnestness Mr. Carrington stood beside her, an 
 admiring smile upon his lips "and the tableaux will 
 be a failure. Why not say Monday evening? that 
 will give us more time to prepare." 
 
 "You forget, my dear," said Mrs. Allenby, "that 
 we must leave you on Monday, much, as I am sure, we 
 should all like to stay on indefinitely. We have had 
 such a perfect time," she murmured politely to me. 
 
 Mechanically I gave the civil answer required, too 
 229
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 much interested by Herbert's instant effort to thwart 
 Lilian's wish to know very well what I was 
 saying. 
 
 "If you listen to my pretty cousin, and pay atten- 
 tion to her whimsies," he said, a covert sneer in his 
 voice and eyes, "the tableaux are doomed. At the 
 eleventh hour some evil omen will be sure to wet- 
 blanket the whole affair." 
 
 I looked with some anxiety at Lilian, always fearing 
 a sudden explosion, yet hating the odd way in which 
 she deferred to his every suggestion. Their attitude 
 toward one another puzzled and irritated me at the 
 same time. If she really detested him as much as 
 she said, why did she yield to his wishes? I should 
 have thought that she feared him, had I not known 
 that the idea was ridiculous. From so unimportant a 
 kinsman as Herbert Fayne, what had Etienne Rap- 
 pelle's sister-in-law to fear? Nothing, I assured my- 
 self yet my uneasiness remained. Yielding to a 
 sudden impulse to interfere, I spoke to her of my opal 
 before she had time to answer Herbert. 
 
 "Have you found the Gypsy's Opal, Lilian?" I 
 asked, "or haven't you hunted for it yet?" 
 
 She looked at me with an expression of gratitude in 
 her pretty blue eyes, an expression I had never before 
 seen in them. The lovely flush of pleasant excite- 
 ment stained her cheeks, from which Herbert's sneer- 
 ing words had robbed their usual faint color. 
 
 "No, Theo," she said, her voice so sweet and gentle 
 that it was a pleasure to listen that Mr. Carrington 
 thought so was almost amusingly apparent "no, not 
 yet. I am sorry, but you needn't worry; I feel quite 
 sure that it is safe." 
 
 As she finished speaking she looked at Herbert, 
 and I saw that the look puzzled him as much as it 
 startled me. For Lilian's eyes never held that ex- 
 pression of exquisite, yet dreamy, satisfaction unless 
 
 230
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 she were hugging to her heart some to me rather 
 terrible idea. 
 
 That morning I seemed destined to be startled, 
 since no sooner had Etienne heard Lilian's careless 
 words than he said, rather sternly: 
 
 "I beg that you will search for it at once, Lilian. 
 I had rather Theo lost all her jewels than the Gypsy's 
 Opal. It is something I could not replace." 
 
 Lilian answered with graceful meekness, but I, I 
 knew that for some curious reason she would be in no 
 haste to obey. And suddenly I felt less anxiety about 
 the gem, myself. 
 
 231
 
 XXI 
 
 As had been at first suggested, the tableaux were 
 given on Friday evening. The moon had cast the 
 final vote against Lilian, since on Saturday night it 
 would rise too late to act as street lamp for those return- 
 ing to Hilltown. Lilian yielded gracefully to what 
 she declared, in private to me, was all Herbert's fault. 
 Much as I disapproved of Herbert and his ways I 
 failed to see how he had had any influence in the mat- 
 ter. When I pressed her for an explanation she would 
 give none, merely grumbling that she wondered at my 
 taste, in always standing up for so nasty a person as 
 Herbert Fayne! 
 
 Of course there were many heart-burnings and 
 jealousies attending the development of the tableaux; 
 but by the time Friday evening came, these had either 
 been overcome or forced into the background. Mrs. 
 Allenby very good-naturedly lent her splendid collec- 
 tion of gems to Mrs. Ainslie for the tableau in which 
 she was to appear; and I provided Lilian with the 
 pearls and diamonds for the jewel scene from Faust. 
 She was to be Marguerite. 
 
 We had a fine evening, and the entire world of Hill- 
 town came. Janey, with the Chevalier in leash as 
 companion, was to sit up until twelve o'clock for the 
 first time in her short life; and the child's one anxiety 
 was that her favorite, Mrs. Strong, should come in time 
 to secure a good seat. I did not dare hope for the 
 presence of the busy doctor; too many people with 
 heavy hearts were in need of him to permit of his 
 
 232
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 gratifying the gay ones. But Jane and I had ex- 
 pected to welcome his wife among the first comers, 
 and the child was proportionately disappointed when 
 she failed to appear. At the last moment, when the 
 place Jane had so carefully reserved for her had been 
 taken, and when a deep pucker of care had grown 
 between my little sister's delicate eyebrows, a carriage 
 dashed up to the door, and our friend bustled in. I 
 went with her myself to the dressing-room. 
 
 "So sorry to be late," she explained, breathlessly, as 
 she tossed aside the lace scarf, and patted her hair into 
 proper outline, "but Mr. Fadd arrived just as we were 
 finishing supper, and I had to see to a room for him. 
 Yes, my dear, I know you would have been glad to 
 have had him come, too; I told him so but he's shy; 
 I think most learned people seem to be ; why, the doc- 
 tor's as bashful as a boy when he isn't professional. 
 Did you know it?" 
 
 I did know it, but took care not to say so. 
 
 "Yes, I asked Mr. Fadd to come, but the doctor 
 had an hour off, so the professor yes, he's a professor, 
 but I forget of what stayed to talk with him. Don't 
 I like him, Theo? What makes you ask that? Yes, 
 I like him" she took my arm and we walked slowly 
 toward the drawing-room "but he scares me that's 
 the truth! You see," lowering her voice and speak- 
 ing confidentially, "he's occult." 
 
 "Occult " I repeated, somewhat puzzled. 
 
 "Yes, my dear, occult. He lived in India 
 Thibet Ceylon, for years, and studied all sorts of 
 queer things. You would never think it to look at 
 him a real pleasant man, so sympathetic and kind. 
 No, my dear, not old he's not fifty yet." 
 
 "I wish he had come to-night," I said, "I should 
 like to have met him." 
 
 We entered the drawing-room, where, at the north- 
 ern end, the stage had been erected, and found that 
 
 233
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 we must content ourselves with seats in the back- 
 ground, all the others being occupied. 
 
 "You will probably have the chance of a chat with 
 Mr. Fadd before the week is over," said Mrs. Strong, 
 as we took our places. "He's crazy to see Braithe 
 House, and the Gypsy's Opal. Yes, the doctor told 
 him all the stories. Oh, how wonderful!" as, the cur- 
 tain going up, an end was put to her lively chatter. 
 
 I wanted to hear more of the strange professor. I 
 remembered that he had been a college chum of Dr. 
 Strong; and that Mrs. Strong had before alluded to 
 their friendship, and to the doctor's faith in his 
 friend's rare strength of mind and heart. But what 
 I saw banished all thoughts of Professor Fadd. 
 
 Upon the stage wall hung two portraits, side by 
 side. At first I thought that they had been brought 
 from their respective places in the library and dining- 
 room, and wondered why this had been done; then I 
 realized that, instead of the painted pictures of Old 
 Vivian and his wife, the Lady Sophia, I was looking 
 at Lilian, and Herbert Fayne. Their likeness to the 
 two dead and gone Braithes was so great that it was 
 extremely unpleasant to me. I looked away from 
 them. I was thankful when the curtain fell. How 
 could they have chosen to represent such people ! But 
 the audience applauded. 
 
 Among the tableaux that followed, the one in which 
 I was most interested was that where Lilian was to 
 take the part of Marguerite. Owing to the delays 
 that always occur with amateurs, this did not come 
 until just before midnight. When the curtain at last 
 lifted, I could not but sigh with satisfaction over 
 Lilian's success. She was rarely lovely in the quaintly 
 fashioned costume, her beautiful hair hanging in two 
 braids far below her waist. At her feet knelt Mrs. 
 Allenby as the nurse holding the jewel box, from 
 which she was lifting my riviere of diamonds; while 
 
 234
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 around Lilian's graceful throat drooped my great rope 
 of pearls. She looked, with an expression of wonder- 
 ing delight, at her own sweet girlish reflection in the 
 mirror that she held in her hand. 
 
 Behind Lilian's chair, a sneering smile upon his 
 lips, lurked Mephistophcles Major O'Leary. 
 
 The audience, after a moment of silent delight, 
 burst into a very storm of applause; and, the curtain 
 falling, clapped persistently until it was again raised. 
 This was done three times. At the last, when again 
 all was quiet the people really enjoying the charm- 
 ing picture Lilian's eyes suddenly dilated; she half 
 rose from her chair, and turning her gaze from the 
 mirror in her hand, she faced us, saying, in a strained 
 whisper: 
 
 "Listen! What is that coming?" 
 
 The look of expectant dread in her eyes was so 
 awful, her face had grown so ghastly beneath its rouge, 
 that, losing my presence of mind, I did nothing to 
 break the spell or help her; but, with the others, held 
 my breath and listened, too. 
 
 Then, far down the avenue, I heard the sound of 
 horses galloping; a carriage was coming, driven at a 
 furious pace. Before I could move, or speak, it had 
 reached the house and stopped before the door. 
 
 Lilian stood up. The mirror fell from her hands 
 crashing to atoms at her feet. 
 
 "The Portent!" she half gasped, half whispered. 
 "O Theo Theo Theo!" 
 
 During the instant of death-like silence that fol- 
 lowed, the air seemed filled with the harsh voice of 
 the old clock at the stables, tolling twelve and Car- 
 rington, springing forward from the stage side, caught 
 her, as she fell forward unconscious. 
 
 As I made my way hastily toward the door, the 
 room was suddenly flooded with light. Hervey, en- 
 tering, had turned up the lamps. 
 
 235
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Mrs. Rossitur's carriage," he announced, in a high 
 unnatural key. 
 
 One of the women in the audience laughed hysteric- 
 ally, and everybody began to talk at once. Then 
 Hervey spoke again: 
 
 "I took the liberty of sending the carriage, to the 
 stables." And added, in an awed undertone, as if but 
 thinking aloud, "The clock has just struck twelve!" 
 
 Mrs. Rossitur, the great personage of Hilltown, gave 
 Hervey a pale smile of approval; and he followed me 
 into the hall. Etienne, hurrying to meet me, to tell 
 me not to be frightened, that Lilian was coming to, 
 broke off to question Hervey. There was an odd note 
 in his voice, and I noticed that his lips were white. 
 
 "The Rossitur carriage, was it, Merle ?" 
 
 "I said Rossitur," said Hervey, under his breath 
 and eying his master strangely. "A rose or any 
 other name, would serve as well." 
 
 Etienne glanced quickly at me, then grew still paler. 
 "That's all right," he said, with assumed cheerfulness; 
 "Brett will look after anybody's carriage. Como, 
 Theo Lilian is here." 
 
 He took my hand in his, as if I had been a child 
 whom he wished to protect, and led me to the library. 
 Chancing to look down the short entrance hall as we 
 passed, I was surprised to see that the ponderous oak 
 door was closed, and securely fastened with its heavy 
 bolts. It was as if Hervey had, in sudden terror, 
 striven to lock out some unwelcome guest. I saw that 
 Etienne noticed this at the same moment, but he made 
 no comment. 
 
 I found Lilian opening bewildered eyes they 
 looked like big blue flowers and staring about her in 
 wonder. Begging Etienne to go back to the draw- 
 ing-room and look after Janey, I went quickly to 
 Lilian, anxious to be the first to speak to her. Mrs. 
 Ainslie and Mrs. Love, who had been taking care of 
 
 236
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 her, drew back in a frightened way, as I approached, 
 with covert, awe-struck glances. I did not lose any 
 time but, kneeling beside Lilian, whispered Hervey's 
 announcement. 
 
 "Mrs. Rossitur's carriage," she repeated in low 
 tones. "Are you sure, Theo?" and I saw that she 
 did not believe me. 
 
 "If not Mrs. Rossitur's, then some other person's, 
 Lilian. Hervey came in and called it out." 
 
 "Give me brandy," she commanded, but still speak- 
 ing low, "a lot of it! Make those people go away." 
 
 I begged Mrs. Love to hurry on the next tableau, 
 which was also the last; and, although she knew that 
 Mr. Carrington was already doing so, she was quick 
 to understand our desire to be alone, and, taking Mrs. 
 Ainslie with her, left the room. 
 
 Herbert, the only other person in the library when 
 I entered, had gone for the brandy. He now appeared 
 at the door. 
 
 "Don't let him in," said Lilian, fiercely; "I won't 
 have him gloating over It. I want only you." 
 
 Going to meet him, I took the tray, with its de- 
 canter and glasses, from his hand. 
 
 "She wishes to be alone, Herbert Thank you for 
 bringing this." 
 
 "Do you believe in the old rot, Dolly?" he asked, 
 scanning my face eagerly. 
 
 "No," I answered, softly. "But go, please." 
 
 "There was no carriage, Dolly. I ran out in time 
 to see." 
 
 "Some echo, then," I said quickly. "It has proba- 
 bly given rise to the old belief. Now go." 
 
 "One moment, Dolly. Although you don't believe 
 in the Death Coach, do you dread having people ask 
 you about it? Shall you hate to have the subject 
 mentioned as have aU the Braithes, from time im- 
 memorial?" 
 
 237
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 "Yes, Herbert. I don't know why- 
 
 "I feel the same way," lie said, earnestly, "and I 
 can't make it out. My backbone stiffens and I feel 
 haughty as the devil, the minute it's even hinted at. 
 Do you?" 
 
 "Oh, please run away, Herbert," I urged. I did 
 not want him to know how completely I shared his 
 feelings, being no more able to account for them 
 than he. 
 
 "Are you never coming, Theo?" called Lilian, irri- 
 tably. 
 
 "Give her a bath," said Herbert, pointing to the 
 brandy. "Soak her full ! She deserves to be choked 
 for yelling out that way in public. Ah, my dearest 
 Dolly, you and I are twin souls after all!" But he 
 went away after this shot, so I cared little about it. 
 That I hated, like him, to have the old superstition 
 mentioned, troubled me. 
 
 Lilian insisted upon drinking a very large portion 
 of the brandy, but it seemed only to give her strength. 
 
 "Theo," she said, solemnly, "which one has it come 
 for? You, or me, or Janey? Or for that devil, Her- 
 bert Fayne? For every drop of blood in his body is 
 Braithe blood! He's threatened, as well as we." 
 Then, with a sudden fury, she turned and shook her 
 small clinched hand at Old Vivian, gazing malevo- 
 lently down upon us from his gilt frame. "Oh, you 
 old fiend," she hissed between her teeth, "I hate you 
 so! You're father's very image and Herbert's 
 and all the hellish lot of Braithes ! You set us all 
 going, you're responsible for all this misery. I hope 
 you're in torture now yes, awful torture!" 
 
 The door was pushed cautiously open and little 
 Jane, the Chevalier trotting meekly in leash by her 
 side, came in. She looked at Lilian with grave dis- 
 approval in her beautiful eyes, and coming close to 
 me laid her small hand in mine. 
 
 238
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Well, darling," I said, as I stooped and kissed her 
 the unnatural brilliancy of her eyes and cheeks 
 alarmed me "you see poor Lilian is quite herself 
 again." 
 
 "Yes," said Jane, coldly, "but she has been herself, 
 all through. What if you did hear the Death Coach, 
 Lilian," turning her stern gaze upon her sister, "was 
 that any reason you should speak of it to the world? 
 You have no courage you are a coward!" 
 
 "Oh, you shut up," commanded Lilian, in sweet 
 low tones. "I shan't stand impudence from a brat 
 like you!" 
 
 The child lifted her head proudly. "The Braithes 
 have always been bad," she said, haughtily, "but you 
 are the first coward of the name." 
 
 "How dare you!" cried Lilian, angrily. 
 
 "Being most unfortunately a Braithe," said 
 poor little Jane, "I dare anything! I have dared, just 
 now, to lie. When a person (she can't be a gentle- 
 woman, Theo, or she wouldn't poke and pry) began to 
 ask me questions, I told her I had heard no carriage, 
 that we had no Portent. I told her that you, Lilian, 
 were subject to these attacks, and that she must not 
 be alarmed." 
 
 "Oh, you nasty little thing!" screamed Lilian, 
 stamping her foot, "I hope the Coach came for you." 
 
 "I hope it did," said the child, courageously, al- 
 though her great eyes began to fill with tears, "for 
 I'm not worth much." 
 
 I caught her in my arms, and held her close pressed 
 to my breast. I was so near tears of admiration for 
 her unselfishness that, in order not to cry, I laughed 
 speak I could not. 
 
 "Your pretty ripple laugh," she said, patting my 
 cheek gently. "I love it, yet somehow it hurts a 
 little." 
 
 "Foolish little Jane!" I said, gaining control of my- 
 239
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 self. "You spoil me with your pretty speeches. But 
 listen, dear, you are not to worry. You have told no 
 lie. There is no Death Coach nor any such uncanny 
 thing. Only the foolish believe in such nonsense." 
 
 "Then it was Mrs. Rossitur's carriage ?" asked little 
 Jane. 
 
 "It may have been no carriage driving up to our 
 door, Jane," I said, very seriously, "but only the echo 
 of one going somewhere else. That is what I believe." 
 
 "Then I'll believe it, too," said Jane, with sudden 
 cheerfulness, "for I mean to be as much like you as 
 I can. And when the Phantom Coach does come, 
 Theo, let's get in and drive away gayly. With Death 
 as coachman we can rush along at a famous pace, and 
 when I call out to him where to drive I mean to be 
 able to say as you say, 'Home,' to Brett 'Heaven, 
 please, Azrael!' ' 
 
 240
 
 YYTT 
 
 I persuaded Janey to keep the Chevalier with her 
 that night, hoping his warm presence on the foot of 
 her bed might soothe the child to sleep. I had no 
 difficulty in sleeping myself, since the echo of gallop- 
 ing hoofs held no terrors for me. But, although I 
 had thought my mind at ease, I was roused from heavy 
 slumber, at dawn, by a bad dream. 
 
 I dreamed that I was in the chapel at midnight, 
 yet it was not dark, because of an odd light from with- 
 out an uncanny glare, that made the pictured saints 
 of the windows seem alive and moving. The little 
 church was decked with white flowers and large bows 
 of white ribbon; but, although I knew there was to 
 be a wedding, I could think only of the funeral of a 
 child. Then far down the avenue I heard the rum- 
 ble of wheels, the sound of horses running; the bridal 
 coach was approaching, and at a wild pace. 
 
 I dreamed that I drew back into a pew near the 
 door, wondering, and a little alarmed, to find myself 
 the only guest. Then it came to me that I was there 
 to see Etienne married to the woman he loved. And 
 I felt so unhappy that my heart-anguish was as a bodily 
 pain, making me faint and ill. 
 
 The light outside flared up, died down, and came 
 again, as though the chapel were surrounded by an 
 assemblage holding torches an assemblage from 
 which the saints in the windows seemed to shrink. 
 The heavy door opened noiselessly, and the bride en- 
 tered and advanced slowly up the aisle. She was 
 
 241
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 tall and gaunt, but I could not see her face because 
 of the bridal veil. 
 
 Then I saw that the bridegroom was waiting for 
 her at the chancel rail. He, also, was tall; a man of 
 commanding figure, of a graceful presence. But he 
 was strangely dressed for a bridegroom, since he wore 
 a mask and domino of black. He was not Etienne. 
 
 The glare died down, every object grew dim, I could 
 scarcely see. I could not hear the words of the 
 service because of the organ that suddenly pealed 
 forth no wedding march, but a requiem for the dead. 
 A great horror came upon me, I tried to get to the 
 door to escape. I was too late. The bridal pair 
 now man and wife had turned, were coming down 
 the aisle. 
 
 I drew back into the pew. The bridegroom left 
 his bride, approached, put out his hand, and strove to 
 take my pearls from about my throat. I would not 
 give them up. I struggled, I tried to cry out, to say 
 that they were mine, should remain mine, always. 
 To escape the gleaming eyes that stared at me through 
 the mask, I looked back at the bride. Ah! her veil 
 had turned into a shroud. She drew it slowly, so 
 slowly, aside, laying, at the same time, an awful 
 bony hand upon the shoulder of her bridegroom. 
 With a moan of horror, I awoke, for the bride was 
 Death! 
 
 I sat up in bed and looked fearfully about me, 
 dreading lest I might find myself still in the chapel. 
 The great room was full of dusky shadows; they 
 lurked in the corners, folded themselves about the 
 grim mahogany furniture, wrapped all the familiar 
 objects around me in a mysterious gloom. The tall 
 cheval-glass only had caught the first faint light of the 
 coming day, and held it reflected in its depths. 
 
 Suddenly I had the disagreeable feeling that I was 
 not alone; that someone was in hiding among the 
 
 242
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 shadows. I held myself very still, and listened. It 
 seemed to me that that other who occupied the room 
 with me held his breath, too and listened. The 
 strain upon my nerves became too great. I spoke : 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 No answer. But did I hear a rustle, as though that 
 someone were crouching down into a deeper quiet ? 
 
 In desperate haste I struck a match, and lighted the 
 candle on the table beside my bed. Then, at risk of 
 setting fire to the rose-strewn hangings, held it above 
 my head and peered about me. Did I imagine it, or 
 was there someone hiding behind the cheval-glass? It 
 stood well out in the room, between the fireplace and 
 the eastern window. I slipped from my bed, went 
 quickly to it, paused, saw my own white reflection 
 dimly in the large mirror, looked behind. There was 
 no one there. 
 
 As I turned I heard an odd sound in my dressing- 
 room; yet I dared not leave the bedroom to investi- 
 gate further until I was sure that it was empty. What 
 if someone were left behind? I lifted the valance of 
 the old four-post bedstead, looked under the tables, 
 into the ponderous mahogany wardrobe not a soul. 
 The candle's feeble glimmer was reflected in mirrors 
 and highly polished furniture, and as I moved cau- 
 tiously hither and thither, it seemed to make the 
 shadows deeper, instead of driving them away. 
 
 At last on into the dressing-room; but it, too, proved 
 to be empty. Sighing with relief, I went back to bed, 
 thankful that I had not cried out, in my terror, to 
 Etienne. I was ashamed that a nightmare should 
 have so fired my imagination, for I decided that I had 
 imagined all the sounds. To sleep again, however, 
 proved impossible, since I must needs fall to thinking 
 of Etienne and the woman he loved. And when 
 these bitter musings had been overcome, I began to 
 wonder about the curious echo, called the Portent It 
 
 243
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 was heard so seldom; rarely could the atmosphere be 
 in the right condition to bring it. Then I speculated 
 upon the equally curious desire of every Braithe to 
 ignore both sound and superstition; a wish so gener- 
 ally known that I had been asked no questions about 
 Lilian's fainting fit when I returned to my guests. 
 Everyone had, apparently, forgotten the strange end- 
 ing of the tableau; had forgotten everything, save 
 the need of great effort on their part to act as though 
 nothing had happened. 
 
 I had, in my thoughts, travelled far from my past 
 terrors, when a low knock at my door brought them 
 rushing back. The room was light, the day had 
 come; yet my heart thumped uncomfortably as, slip- 
 ping on my dressing-gown, I answered the summons. 
 To my surprise, I found Mr. Brace, looking very 
 grave, standing at the threshold. He made no idle 
 apology, but going straight to the point, asked if I 
 would go to the brick-yards with him to see a poor 
 woman who was dying and wished for me. 
 
 I dressed hastily, then sought my purse. Thanks 
 to Etienne's liberality, I might now really assist the 
 poor. With a feeling of warm gratitude toward the 
 giver, I opened my handsome pocket-book, thinking 
 to lighten it before putting it in my pocket. It was 
 generally overfull. To my surprise it was empty. 
 Instantly I thought of the odd sounds I had heard but 
 an hour before, then laughed at my foolish fears. 
 Lilian had asked for money but the day previous, and 
 must have helped herself more greedily than usual, 
 that was all. Fortunately I had foreseen just such 
 an emergency and had, always, a small private 
 hoard. 
 
 As I tucked it into my purse, Hervey came to my 
 door with a tray, on which was a glass of milk and a 
 roll. He put it down on the table with an air of sod- 
 den resignation. 
 
 244
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "The table is spread 
 With a hunk of bread, 
 And milk from the beastly cow," 
 
 he said, sadly, misquoting as usual, "but I can't do 
 better for you, Mrs. Rappelle. The cook is a swear- 
 ing slug-in-bed this morning he refuses to rise." 
 
 "You look tired out, Hervey," I said, surveying the 
 little man with some anxiety, for his usually rosy face 
 was pale, and his eyes were red. "Didn't you get any 
 sleep?" 
 
 He shook his head gently, his bloodshot eyes fixed 
 upon me with an expression of dog-like affection, the 
 accustomed deprecatory smile about his pale lips. 
 
 "My brain had murdered sleep," he said, quietly, 
 and I thought he was alluding to the wearisome old 
 legend; that he, too, imagined that one of the Braithes 
 was summoned, when he continued, "I heard the trail- 
 ing garments of night thieves scraping along the walls 
 or thought I did, Mrs. Kappelle." 
 
 "Did you get up to look for them, Hervey?" I 
 asked, in some excitement. 
 
 "Yes, madam. Mr. Fayne was of the same opin- 
 ion we met by chance, the ugliest way." 
 
 "You saw no one ?" I questioned, eagerly. 
 
 "No one, Mrs. Rappelle." 
 
 I was very much relieved to be thus assured that 
 my fears had been imaginary. "Try to sleep now, 
 Hervey," I urged. "You have time for a nap before 
 breakfast." 
 
 "Time is made for slaving, Mrs. Rappelle," he an- 
 swered, gravely. "Many a grain of mustard seed 
 would fall on the sideboard, were I to fold my tal- 
 ents in the napkins." And he went quietly away. 
 
 I found Mr. Brace waiting for me at the boat- 
 house, and we glided out upon a river that seemed 
 but a shield of gold, so dazzlingly did it reflect the 
 sun's rays. No air was stirring, and I thought with 
 
 245
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 intense pity of the suffering creature, who was strug- 
 gling for breath in the hot tenement, under the river 
 bank near the brick-yard. 
 
 It was too quiet, unnaturally so; and when, at one 
 o'clock, Mr. Brace and I re-entered our boat and 
 started for home, the character of the day had changed. 
 A wild breeze was tearing up the river from the 
 southwest, whipping its heretofore smooth surface into 
 white-capped waves, and driving masses of black, 
 vaporous clouds across the heavens. Behind the 
 western hills there curved upward a sheet of steely 
 gray, whose sinister surface was rent, now and again, 
 by jagged spears of lightning. Mr. Brace bent to his 
 oars with a will and, since wind and tide were with us, 
 we were swept along in a way that was exhilarating. 
 
 "We shan't be able to make the boat-house, Mrs. 
 Rappelle," he shouted, raising his voice to dominate 
 the noise of the approaching tempest. "Shall I land 
 below the chapel? We can find shelter there." 
 
 I nodded. I liked the wild warring of wind and 
 water, the beauty of the great tossing river, and its 
 enemy the on-coming storm demon. Mr. Brace 
 could think only of the real peril of the moment, and 
 heaved a deep sigh of relief when he at last drove the 
 boat ashore, and, scrambling out, dragged it far up 
 beneath the bank whose summit, high above us, was 
 crowned by Braithe Chapel, with its surrounding 
 graves. Refusing to allow me time to survey the 
 magnificence of the scene, he seized my hand and 
 pulled me up the bluff at a tremendous pace. 
 
 Laughing, protesting, begging for just one moment 
 to look over my shoulder at the river, already far be- 
 low us, I was forced to scramble on beside the usually 
 mild-mannered little man, of whose latent energy I 
 had been only half aware, and not until we had almost 
 reached the chapel did the storm break. Then, 
 thanks to the huge trees, beneath whose protecting 
 
 246
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 branches rested the dead and gone Braithes, hardly a 
 drop of rain touched us, and, by running, we were in 
 the little vestry entering by the side door, of which 
 Mr. Brace kept the key before the downpour beat 
 upon the chapel roof. 
 
 The heat in the little church was intense, as the 
 rapidly cooling temperature outside had not, as yet, 
 had time to penetrate its thick walls. 1 was surprised 
 to see Mr. Brace resume his coat which he had dis- 
 carded while rowing directly upon entering; but he 
 announced his intention of going to the house at once, 
 to give news of my whereabouts. It was in vain that 
 I remonstrated the storm was very fearful. 
 
 "Mr. Rappelle and the child will be painfully 
 anxious," said the headstrong little man, turning up 
 the collar of his coat as he spoke. "I could not recon- 
 cile it with my conscience, Mrs. Rappelle, to leave 
 them in uncertainty." And bidding me lock the 
 door after him, he went out into the tempest. 
 
 The tiny vestry was close to suffocation, and, hop- 
 ing to find more air, I left it, and went to my accus- 
 tomed seat in the great square family pew. Never 
 at any time a very cheerful little church although 
 Etienne had done his best, when restoring it, to give 
 an air of lightness to the sombre interior the intense 
 blackness of the storm added to its gloom. Memories 
 of the scene enacted so short a time before, at the bed- 
 side of the dying woman, filled my mind with sad 
 thoughts. I shuddered at each crash of thunder and 
 looked, with awe-struck eyes, at the pictured saints of 
 the stained-glass windows, standing out with almost 
 life-like vividness under the fierce blue glare of the 
 lightning. They reminded me of the terrors of the 
 previous night, and of my awful dream. Falling upon 
 my knees, I lost myself in prayer until a heavy sigh, 
 echoing through the vaulted building, roused me in 
 affright from my devotions. 
 
 247
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Lifting my head I stared about me, at the same time 
 telling myself that I must have mistaken some outside 
 sound the wailing of the wind through the branches 
 of the old sycamores and walnut trees, or the cry of 
 some distant steam-whistle upon the river for the 
 sigh of a human being. I had fastened the door of 
 the vestry after Mr. Brace's exit, and the heavy front 
 door of the chapel was always kept securely locked; 
 the key hidden carefully in a certain place beneath the 
 stone steps, known only to Lilian, Etienne, Mr. Brace, 
 and me a secret well guarded by us all, because of 
 the tramps and river-thieves who would gladly have 
 used the chapel for sleeping quarters. 
 
 I felt certain that no one could have entered, yet in 
 spite of this I looked about me nervously. Because 
 of the heavy gloom I could scarcely see more than the 
 outlines of the pew, but the church seemed empty; 
 and I had almost recovered my tranquillity, when a 
 vivid flash of lightning illuminated every object within 
 the walls. Then I saw, with a sensation of horror that 
 was an agony, a masked man standing near the en- 
 trance door. He wore a slouched hat pulled well 
 forward, but not far enough to hide his eyes, that 
 gleamed through the slits of his mask like the eyes of 
 the man in my dream. I dared neither cry out, nor 
 move. My only hope was that he might not have 
 seen me, yet I felt a sickening conviction that those 
 awful eyes were fixed upon my pale face. It was all 
 over in an instant, the glare being followed by intense 
 darkness more intense because of that moment of 
 light. 
 
 I rose cautiously. I must get to the vestry while 
 the darkness held. I clung to the hope that I was 
 still unseen. I had no superstitious fears to combat, 
 I knew that the man was no spectre, yet because of 
 my dream his masked face well-nigh paralyzed me 
 with terror, adding to the unreality of my surround- 
 
 248
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ings. Before I could reach the door of the pew 
 moving so slowly on leaden feet of fear there came 
 another flash of lightning, accompanied hy a deafen- 
 ing peal of thunder. I crouched down instantly upon 
 the floor. I held my breath was someone stealthily 
 approaching, up the aisle? 
 
 The thunder rumbled away in the distance, follow- 
 ing, as if in sport, the mountains which almost encircle 
 that part of the river. Even in my dreadful anxiety 
 my mind reverted to the old legend, told all children 
 who live among the highlands of our river, of Hen- 
 drick Hudson playing at nine-pins with his crew of the 
 Half-moon, in some hidden hollow of the Kaatskill 
 Mountains. 
 
 A deep sigh, almost a groan, again echoed through 
 the church. My heart seemed to stand still. Then, 
 in desperation, I unfastened the little door of the pew 
 and ran trembling, stumbling through the gloom, past 
 the chancel steps to the vaulted entrance of the vestry. 
 As I hastened to close and bolt the door, the chapel 
 was again filled with blue light; the figures in the 
 windows seemed to take life and move. But stare as 
 I might I saw them alone the masked man was 
 gone. 
 
 There came a loud knocking from without. 
 
 "Dolly!" cried an anxious voice, Herbert's, "Dolly, 
 open the door! Let me in!" 
 
 I could not obey him fast enough. And when he 
 entered, wet through and much concerned about me, 
 I forgot his past misconduct and met him with both 
 hands outstretched. 
 
 "O Bertie," I cried, breathlessly, "there's a masked 
 man in the church! What shall we do?" 
 
 Herbert drew me to him, stooping to look into my 
 face. "A man in a mask, Dolly? How can that be? 
 There, don't be frightened; it's all right now." 
 
 "No, no, Herbert," I protested, "it's not all right 
 249
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 while he's there. I tell you I saw him plainly. Tall, 
 and -" 
 
 "I'll go look for him," he said, interrupting me. 
 "You wait here, dear, and I'll search every corner." 
 
 The thunder was still booming like heavy cannon, 
 too near us for comfort, and the accompanying flashes 
 of lightning made me wince. 
 
 "What was that?" I cried, as there came a heavier 
 crash than before. "Did I hear the big door closing, 
 Herbert?" 
 
 "No, no, Dolly," he said, soothingly; but it seemed 
 to my overstrained nerves that a sneer lurked beneath 
 the softness of his tones. "Your imagination runs 
 away with you, dear." 
 
 His words, the intonation of his voice, the tender 
 pressure of his fingers closed fast over mine, brought 
 me to my senses. I was ashamed that my terror had 
 made me forget everything save the desire for protec- 
 tion. I drew my hands from his, and going to the 
 door leading into the body of the church, unlocked 
 and opened it. 
 
 "I will help you look," I said. 
 
 But Herbert drew me back, almost roughly, and 
 pushed me into a chair. "No," he said, decidedly, 
 "you must stay here. I prefer to go alone." And 
 he closed the door behind him as he went. 
 
 I was not alone long, for before he had returned 
 Hervey came in, laden down with wraps. 
 
 "Dear lady!" he cried, hovering about me. "Ab- 
 sence make the heart to ponder, and I've thought with 
 anxiety of you all the long, long, dreary day." 
 
 He knelt down to put on my overshoes, and as he 
 did so Herbert came back. Hervey started, and 
 looked up quickly. "Mr. Fayne!" he exclaimed, in 
 surprise. "You sought refuge by the front way?" 
 
 "No, Merle." Then to me: "It's all right, Dolly," 
 and he laid his finger on his lips, in token that Hervey 
 
 250
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 again bending over my feet was not to know of 
 my fear. 
 
 In this I acquiesced, since had I really been the 
 victim of my too vivid imagination as I began to 
 believe had been the case of what use to worry 
 others? 
 
 "Mr. Brace did not mention having met you, sir," 
 said Hervey, jealous of Herbert having been the first 
 to reach me I thought. 
 
 "No," said Herbert, good-humoredly, "but I got 
 anxious about Mrs. Rappelle, Merle, seeing your mas- 
 ter wasn't at home, so I was hurrying down to have a 
 look for her when I met the little parson heading for 
 the house on the dead run. He was going at such a 
 pace head down, butting at the rain like a mad bull 
 that he never saw me!" 
 
 Hervey gave vent to a low "Humph!" 
 
 "Where is Mr. Rappelle?" I asked. 
 
 "Gone with Mr. Fadd to Hilltown," said Herbert, 
 quickly. And I saw him touch Hervey's foot as if 
 by accident with his own. 
 
 "Hervey," I said, very gently, "you may tell me at 
 once what has happened." 
 
 "Dolly!" cried Herbert, as if in protest. 
 
 Hervey rose slowly to his feet and stood looking 
 down at me, intense admiration and pride in his eyes. 
 "Fools would step in to teach angels where to tread," 
 he said, softly, as if to himself, then, "All are well, 
 dear lady, so wipe, oh, wipe, that fear away!" 
 
 "Thank God!" I murmured, having ever in mind 
 the fragile health of little Jane. "What is it then, 
 Hervey, please ? I don't mind anything else." 
 
 "No, indeed, Mrs. Rappelle," said Hervey, slowly 
 shaking his head from side to side, "you are not one 
 of those who lay up treasures for themselves where 
 moth and ruffians congregate to help thieves break in 
 and steal!" 
 
 251
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "What is stolen?" I asked, rising in my excitement. 
 "Tell me quickly, please." 
 
 "Every jewel in the house, Mrs. Rappelle," was the 
 solemn answer. 
 
 "Then there was someone in my room this morn- 
 ing!" I exclaimed, "and you were right in thinking 
 that you heard burglars. Oh, why didn't I call 
 Etienne!" 
 
 "He might have been shot," said Herbert, sardonic- 
 ally, "and you would never have forgiven yourself 
 ah, pardon me, Dolly!" as I colored hotly with indig- 
 nation, "I didn't think what I was saying." Then, 
 lowering his voice so that Hervey, who had gone to 
 look at the weather, might not hear, "I am half 
 mad, I think." I moved quickly toward the door. 
 "Dolly!" he cried, under his breathj "Dolly! one mo- 
 ment, just one I must speak to you alone. 
 
 His eyes glowed into mine, he laid his hand on my 
 arm to detain me. I shook it off with tired impa- 
 tience. I wanted to get rid of him, to be at home, 
 where I must be needed. I was indignant that he 
 should wish to detain me with his strange folly at such 
 a time. I knew that Etienne would feel greatly dis- 
 tressed that such an occurrence had taken place be- 
 neath his roof. He had probably gone to Hilltown 
 to notify the police. Again I had missed seeing Dr. 
 Strong's interesting friend, who must have been at 
 Braithe when the robbery was discovered. Upon 
 questioning Hervey I found that such had been the 
 case. 
 
 "The early bird catches the worst, Mrs. Eappelle," 
 said Hervey, gravely, "like you and this professor this 
 self -same morning. The danger is past now, I think," 
 waving his hand toward the sky, "but the rain has 
 come to stay." 
 
 Understanding this to mean that I might start for 
 home, I hurried there as quickly as possible; the swift- 
 
 252
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 ness of my pace preventing Herbert from forcing 
 a tete-a-tete. I found Mrs. Love flitting restlessly 
 about the hall, evidently waiting for me. She ran up 
 and helped me off with my cloak. 
 
 "I am so very, very sorry/' I said, looking at 
 her anxiously, "have you lost your trinkets, Mrs. 
 Love?" 
 
 , She shook her mop of curls violently. "Nothing 
 worth taking, my dear, so don't fret about me." 
 
 "Ah, how glad I am!" I exclaimed. "But the oth- 
 ers? I fear they are taking their loss very hard." 
 
 "You bet!" was the characteristic answer. "Rachel 
 mourning for her children wasn't in the running for 
 a minute. Every precious one of them doing the 
 Niobe act for all they're worth and they're not worth 
 much, to tell the awful truth, when their finery's torn 
 off them!" she giggled, wickedly. "And Sandbar's 
 the worst of the lot!" 
 
 "Mrs. Allenby's gems ?" I gasped, suddenly remem- 
 bering her almost priceless collection. 
 
 "All gone," said Mrs. Love; "she'd rather have lost 
 her daughters. There, don't look so awfully care- 
 worn! It's not your fault. You are certainly the 
 sweetest, most sympathetic thing alive!" 
 
 "Oh, hush!" I cried, catching her hand in mine. 
 "Please don't pay me compliments just now, Mrs. 
 Love." 
 
 She patted my cheek, and surveyed me with great 
 complacency ; then stooped and kissed me, at the same 
 time patting Hervey's topknot gently he was on his 
 knees taking off my overshoes, but had paused in his 
 task to listen to her. 
 
 "You see," she said, "my beautiful girl your 
 cheeks are just like wet rose leaves I'm not down on 
 my luck because the one jewel I care about is your 
 opal. And that, thanks to your sister's carelessness, 
 is lost out of harm's way." 
 
 253
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Like a peach in a pig's snout/' grumbled Hervey, 
 but so low that I could pretend not to have heard. 
 
 "But come, Mrs. Theo," continued Mrs. Love, 
 "you'd better run upstairs before you're caught. 
 Come," grasping my hand and pulling me to my feet, 
 "get to your dressing-room, and get your second wind 
 before you face the foe." 
 
 "Yes, dear lady," urged Hervey, "remember there's 
 no one, as Mrs. Love says, so much to be feared as the 
 fools in your own household." 
 
 But I disregarded Mrs. Love's well-meant counsel, 
 preferring instead to go to the drawing-room, from 
 whence came the confused murmur of many voices. 
 Herbert was in the library at the telephone, in com- 
 munication with Etienne, having gone there directly 
 upon our return to the house. When I entered Mr. 
 Bandhar was standing before the fireplace over which 
 hung my portrait, dominating the others through su- 
 perior power of lungs or inferior habits of civility. 
 
 "I know what I'm talking about, I tell you," he 
 bawled with ponderous insistency, "somebody inside 
 let 'em in. I don't approve of encouragin' the lower 
 orders to such an extent as is done here. That feller 
 Merle is too damn free in his manners, altogether." , 
 
 "Whom do you suspect, Mr. Bandhar?" I asked, 
 coming forward. 
 
 He wagged his head at me solemnly, too much up- 
 set by the loss of his ornaments to realize how exceed- 
 ingly rude he had been. "I name no names in pub- 
 lic," he replied, with an air that said he could, an' he 
 would, put his finger on the guilty party, "but when 
 the police arrive I'll tell them. Mrs. Rappelle" there 
 came into his voice the sound of repressed tears "I've 
 lost all my scarf-pins, yes, all, every one! I remem- 
 ber you remarked once that the cat's-eye set in dia- 
 monds was a beauty. The emerald four-leafed clover 
 with large, very large, diamond dew-drop, you said 
 
 254
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 became me. "Well, well, I fear you'll never see me 
 in 'em again!" 
 
 I asked for Mrs. Allenby and was told that she was 
 upstairs. 
 
 "Mrs. Allenby," said Major O'Leary, as grave as a 
 deacon for the first time since his arrival at Braithe, 
 "Mrs. Allenby" he lowered his voice to an impres- 
 sive whisper "is suffering from a severe nervous 
 headache. The shock has been too much for her. 
 Pray believe, Mrs. Rappelle, that she realizes, as do 
 we all, how very, ah unpleasant, this affair must be 
 for our admirable host and charming hostess," bow- 
 ing low. "And we also realize how deeply you, too, 
 must be suffering from your own part of the loss. 
 Those magnificent diamonds ! That marvellous string 
 of pearls!" 
 
 Saying that I would go upstairs to see Mrs. Allenby, 
 I left the room, and ran against Herbert in the 
 hall. 
 
 "Rappelle won't be home for luncheon, Dolly," he 
 said, looking worried. "He has telegraphed to New 
 York for detectives, and they're to be here by dinner 
 time. Where are you going?" 
 
 "Upstairs," I said, coldly, and then, thinking aloud, 
 added, "I wish Mr. Bandhar didn't suspect the ser- 
 vants!" 
 
 "Bandhar's a fool," said Herbert, with irritated dis- 
 gust. "But it's going to be a beastly business all 
 through. I'm sorry about your baubles, Dolly." 
 
 "Oh, never mind about them," I said, impatiently. 
 
 "You think that Rappelle is sure to give you more?" 
 he sneered, then, seeing my face clouding with disap- 
 proval, he changed his tone. "Forgive me," he said, 
 humbly, "I'm ashamed of myself, Dolly. Don't 
 worry about the servants. I'll make it all right for 
 them by suggesting that every trunk in the house be 
 searched. The police shall begin on mine." 
 
 255
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I did not thank him, he had tried me too sorely. 
 I went on upstairs. 
 
 Mrs. Allenby, pleading the necessity for quiet, 
 would not receive me; so I betook myself to my own 
 room, in hopes of a breathing spell. But there I 
 found Lilian and Josette, engaged in a dispute so vio- 
 lent that the former had lost her dignity, and the lat- 
 ter the respect due her employer's sister. Josette, 
 weeping, poured out her story first; since Lilian, at 
 sight of me, assumed a haughty attitude, and took 
 refuge in what might be called a sneering silence. 
 
 The cause of the quarrel was the theft of my jewels. 
 Josette declared that she had, 'acting in obedience to 
 Lilian's orders, left them in Lilian's care, she having 
 said that she would herself take charge of them, after 
 the tableaux. Lilian, on her part, denied this, saying 
 that she had, at the end of the evening, placed my 
 jewel box in Josette's hands. Here Josette inter- 
 rupted to insist that the box had not been brought 
 downstairs, but left in Lilian's room. 
 
 "I fancy my sister will hardly take your word be- 
 fore mine," sneered Lilian, "A mere servant, a 
 greedy Swiss!" 
 
 "Where is madame's opal, then?" flashed out 
 Josette. "That was left in the careful keeping of 
 mademoiselle, if I mistake not! Has it ever been re- 
 stored to madame?" 
 
 To my surprise I saw that she hated Lilian. I 
 never would have suspected that my gentle little maid 
 could show such fierceness. As for Lilian, she grew 
 pale with fury. 
 
 "Don't listen to her, Theo!" she cried. "A lying, 
 time-serving little cat! How dare she insinuate such 
 dreadful things, how dare you stand and listen to her? 
 I never touched your hateful gems I'll bet they're 
 nothing but paste, anyway and you know I lost the 
 
 256
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 opal. Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do? Insulted 
 by a vile maid-servant." 
 
 It was some time before I could stem the flood of 
 angry words that poured in musical tones from her 
 white lips. When I had imposed silence, I chose my 
 role with care. It was a difficult one to select, since 
 I knew that Lilian was not telling the truth. No, her 
 sneers when she thought she might escape detection 
 and her following angry asseverations of innocence, 
 mingled as always with denunciations of her chosen 
 victim, told me but too plainly that she was the one to 
 blame. Lilian, the woman, had the same peculiarities 
 as Lilian, the child. It was for me to protect her from 
 the consequences of her own fault. 
 
 "Try to compose yourself, Lilian," I said. "And 
 you, Josette, will remember that what is said in anger 
 is often only half meant. Miss Lilian, I am sure, will 
 be sorry later if she hurts your feelings; while you, I 
 know, will bitterly regret any disrespect shown on 
 your own part." 
 
 "Quite true, dear, dear madame," sobbed the poor 
 girl. . 
 
 "As for you, Lilian," I said, suavely, "no one can 
 expect you to recollect what you did, or said, after 
 your nervous attack of last evening. You were un- 
 conscious for some time." 
 
 "So I was," she exclaimed, grasping with eagerness, 
 as I had expected, at this chance of escape afforded 
 her. "So I was, Theo! As you say, I was not quite 
 myself after that terrible fainting fit. Oh, my poor 
 head," she passed her hand with affected weariness 
 across her forehead, "it really pains me yet! Josette, 
 I must have forgotten to carry Madame Rappelle's 
 diamonds and pearls upstairs with me. Yes, I dis- 
 tinctly remember now, just laying them down on a 
 little table and meaning to go back for them yes, 
 
 257
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 that was what I did. The thieves must have found 
 them there." 
 
 Josette sullenly accepted this half apology. I sug- 
 gested a thorough search for the opal among Lilian's 
 effects, saying that that probably was safe enough. 
 
 "No, madame," said Josette, "the opal, too, is gone. 
 Mademoiselle's maid and I have done our possible 
 not once, but many times. I would not tell madame 
 before; I had not the heart." 
 
 Lilian's brows drew together in a threatening frown ; 
 another outburst of anger was, I saw, imminent. 
 Josette had taken a liberty in searching her room. 
 
 I gave Lilian a warning glance. "What is lost, ia 
 lost," I said, sadly, for I loved my opal almost as much 
 as though it had been a live thing it had once grown 
 warm against my mother's breast. "Come, Lilian! 
 They must be waiting for us in the dining-room." 
 
 They were waiting. As unhappy and hungry a 
 set of people Hervey informed me as had ever col- 
 lected around the Braithe dining-table. I knew bet- 
 ter, but I did not contradict him. "Yet eat, drink, 
 and be merry, dear lady," he whispered, as I took my 
 place, "since none of 'em will die!" 
 
 They were happier when, late in the afternoon, 
 Etienne returned accompanied by a brace of detectives 
 New York men and a policeman from Hilltown, 
 leaned him for a few days by the town authorities. 
 
 "Only one policeman!" mourned Mr. Bandhar. 
 "Only two detectives! Well, I shall sit up all night." 
 
 "What for, you goose?" asked Mrs. Love; "I 
 thought your gimcracks were all stolen !" 
 
 "Never you mind why," he said, solemnly, "only 
 I ain't quite a fool." 
 
 "Dear me, no! Of course not," was the saucy 
 answer. 
 
 258
 
 xxm 
 
 The dinner that evening proved a very disagreeable 
 function. Mrs. Allenby, hearing of the arrival of 
 the detectives, forgot her headache and came down- 
 stairs. She had always been so exceptionally agree- 
 able, showing so much tact on every occasion where 
 social skill was needed, that it was a shock to find that 
 her fine manners were but a veneering. This was now 
 cracked by the loss of her jewels into unsightly rifts, 
 through which her real nature was plainly to be seen. 
 She had become ill-tempered, sneering, even rude. 
 Mrs. Ainslie, Mr. Carrington, and the Loves behaved 
 as usual. Everybody else was cross and unpleasant. 
 
 I, too, felt cross, and much inclined to be disagree- 
 able. I had had a hard day. I was very tired. My 
 beautiful pearls, my sparkling diamonds, were gone- 
 yet nobody seemed to care ! 
 
 As I looked across the table at Etienne my indigna- 
 tion deepened, for although he had been politely 
 attentive when I spoke of my morning at the brick- 
 yard, and had shown much interest when I told of the 
 masked man in the chapel, he had offered no sym- 
 pathy. All his care seemed to be for his guests. 
 Bent upon restoring their lost valuables, I, and 
 my affairs, were apparently of little account. The 
 anxiety he had shown the night before had vanished. 
 The daylight had evidently dispelled his superstitious 
 dread of and belief in the Death Coach. This in- 
 difference irritated me. I said to myself that since 
 he was not interested in what concerned me, I might 
 
 259
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 as well divert myself by saying and doing what I 
 chose and I chose to be unpleasant. 
 
 I thought a moment, then selecting the remark 
 most likely to prove an apple of discord to my trying 
 guests, an apple of Sodom to my inattentive husband, 
 tossed it lightly across the table to the latter. 
 
 "Etienne," I said, looking dreamily at him, "I'm 
 so sorry not to have met Mr. Fadd I do long to meet 
 somebody really interesting, somebody with a mind! 
 When was he to leave Dr. Strong's?" 
 
 "This afternoon, Theo." 
 
 "Mrs. Strong said he was occult," I went on, as 
 though thinking aloud. "I always thought I would 
 like to marry an occult man not an elderly one, 
 though. A young occult." 
 
 I had chosen a moment when conversation lan- 
 guished in which to launch this missile. It certainly 
 served to rouse the attention of the company, and to 
 divert their minds from their own woes. Mrs. Al- 
 lenby laughed disagreeably. 
 
 "You may have a chance yet, Mrs. Bappelle," she 
 said. "Qui sait?" 
 
 Etienne's eyes flashed my existence was remem- 
 bered. "Don't sign my death-warrant, Mrs. Alien- 
 by," he said, a little too suavely. "I have yet some 
 years ahead of me, I trust, in which to learn the full 
 meaning of the word 'occult.' " 
 
 "Unless some other chap cuts you out," bawled Mr. 
 Bandhar. "Death ain't the only way of breaking 
 marriage bonds nowadays," and he winked hideously 
 at me behind Mrs. Allenby's back. 
 
 "No," said Herbert, his eyes cast down, "there are 
 other ways fortunately in which the imprisoned 
 may find freedom." 
 
 "Only sometimes they find they ain't quite so free 
 as they thought they were going to be!" said Mr. 
 Bandhar, revenging himself for several ill-tempered 
 
 260
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 speeches from Mrs. Allenby. "There's many a 
 slip 'twixt the cup and the lip what do you say, 
 O'Leary?" 
 
 The unfortunate major, turning purple, buried his 
 nose in his glass of Burgundy, and pretended not to 
 hear. 
 
 As for me, with raised brows and eyes dilated by 
 surprise, I looked in apparent bewilderment from one 
 to the other, as if unable to understand what the sud- 
 den turmoil meant. In short, I behaved just as badly 
 as I possibly could. 
 
 "I'm afraid I have been rude!" I said, as though 
 in sudden alarm, looking at Etienne with feigned 
 anxiety. "What did I say, Etienne?" 
 
 "Nothing of any importance, my dear," was the 
 smiling reply I was pleased to see that his temper 
 was roused "you merely regretted your choice of a 
 husband!" He spoke as though jesting, and every 
 one, save myself, was deceived. 
 
 "Choice!" sneered Herbert, under his breath. 
 
 "What did you say, Bertie?" I asked. Since 
 Etienne was so blind in regard to Herbert's true char- 
 acter, I would do my duty and open his eyes. 
 
 "Do you really care to hear?" said Herbert, looking 
 steadily at me. 
 
 Mrs. Love and Lilian began to talk, as though moved 
 by a common impulse to relegate Mr. Fayne and his 
 remark to the background. Etienne, I saw, was 
 watching me with an interest that he tried to conceal. 
 I answered my cousin with gay nonsense. 
 
 "No, Alcibiades," I said, smiling, my finger upon 
 my lips, "you had best keep silent." 
 
 "I will tell you later, Dolly," he said, his splendid 
 eyes glowing with sudden excitement. 
 
 "Meet me by moonlight alone!. Is that your 
 game ?" demanded Mr. Bandhar. "Say, when you're 
 sentimental you're sickenin', do you know it?" In 
 
 261
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 his effort to drown the memory of his lost scarf-pins, 
 Mr. Bandhar had indulged far too freely in his favorite 
 beverage, champagne. His frankness of speech grew 
 more appalling every moment. "What do you mean 
 by calling him," he continued, pointing a rude finger 
 at Herbert, " Alcibiades, Mrs. Eappelle ? Sounds like 
 a dog." 
 
 "Give a dog a bad name and hang him!" I said, 
 laughing. Then, holding my glass high, I cried, 
 "Here's long life to the gallows!" 
 
 Mr. Bandhar's heavy laugh boomed through the 
 room. Everyone else smiled politely, as in duty 
 bound, while staring at me in evident amazement. At 
 this moment carriage wheels were heard on the ave- 
 nue. Everybody started; uneasy glances were ex- 
 changed ; Lilian grew deathly pale. 
 
 "Only the arrival of our evening's amusement," 
 said Etienne, hastily, in explanation. "I thought we 
 all needed something new to distract our minds, so I 
 engaged a palmist to come up from town to read our 
 hands." 
 
 "Who is he?" cried Mabel Allenby, delighted by 
 the prospect. 
 
 "A gentleman," said Etienne, smiling, "who pre- 
 fers not to have his name known. He is an amateur, 
 but, I am told, a marvel in his way; even the best 
 professionals yield the palm I don't intend a pun 
 to him." 
 
 "Do we know him?" 
 
 "Does he know us?" 
 
 Everybody demanded both questions, in chorus. 
 
 Etienne shook his head. 
 
 "He asked to be given the names of my guests be- 
 fore he consented to come," he said, gravely. "I 
 talked with him through the telephone. He does not 
 care to read the palms of his acquaintances; they bore 
 him by insisting that he is prejudiced when he tells 
 
 262
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 them pleasant or unpleasant things. He prefers 
 using his skill for strangers." 
 
 "What fun it will be to meet him to-morrow, when 
 the mischief's done!" said Mrs. Ainslie. 
 
 "I am very sorry," said Etienne, "but he prefers 
 not to meet anyone socially. And I am to tell you 
 all," he added, glancing quickly at me, "that your 
 characters will be quite safe in his hands, since he 
 never reveals professional secrets. A priest in the 
 confessional is not more to be trusted than he." 
 
 "Poor man!" I exclaimed, "he has chosen a dull 
 metier. Fancy learning the secrets of a host of stupid 
 people, without having the amusement of gossiping 
 about them afterward! Let us hope that someone 
 among us has a nature sufficiently baffling, in its com- 
 plexity, to give him the tang of excitement that he 
 must long for." 
 
 "Human riddles are not so rare as you seem to 
 think, Theo," said Etienne, quietly. "Doubtless he 
 will find plenty here to read." 
 
 "Yes," agreed Mr. Bandhar, wagging his head with 
 great seriousness, "he'll have to put on his spectacles 
 when he looks at my hand, I guess. Lots of girls have 
 made an awful bungle over it already." 
 
 Our guests were so anxious to have their palms read 
 by Trismegistus as Herbert dubbed the mysterious 
 stranger and so eager, on their return, to find an 
 attentive listener to whom to confide the story of their 
 horrible, delightful, or disappointing interview, that 
 it was late when I, the last of all save Etienne, entered 
 the library. 
 
 I found that the room had been well arranged to 
 impress the uninitiated. The portrait of my great- 
 great-great-grandfather was hidden by a curtain of 
 dull red silk, all save the eyes; they watched one's 
 every movement, gleaming through openings made in 
 the silk. In front of the fireplace, on a high teak- 
 
 263
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 wood stand, was a bronze Buddha, seated upon his 
 lotus-flower. Before the god, on the same stand, stood 
 a bowl in the shape of the lotus dull pink petals curv- 
 ing upward in a cup. This was filled with fragrant 
 oil, in which floated a lighted taper. 
 
 The evening breeze, stealing in through the turned 
 swivels of the blinds, made the little flame flicker, 
 casting a gigantic shadow of the Buddha upon the 
 ceiling, and giving a lifelike expression to the watchful 
 eyes of the veiled portrait. 
 
 In a corner of the large room two screens were 
 arranged to form an alcove, in which, seated cross- 
 legged upon a pile of dull green cushions, was en- 
 shrined the palmist. Before him stood a low table of 
 teak-wood, provided with a small cushion of black 
 velvet on which the seeker after self-knowledge was to 
 place his, or her, hand. The palmist wore a loose silk 
 robe the colors of the lotus the dull pink of its flow- 
 ers, lined with the soft green of its leaves. This was 
 richly embroidered in green and silver, in an intricate 
 pattern formed of wreaths and bunches of the lotus, 
 and fastened about the waist by what looked like an 
 uprooted lily; its shining snake-like stem coiled 
 around him, its pink flower hanging, as a tassel, in 
 front. On his head was a close-fitting skullcap of the 
 same design; an inverted lotus-flower. 
 
 The man was as strange looking as his costume ; but 
 this was owing to his expression, and not to any 
 peculiarity of feature. His brown hair was nearly 
 concealed by the cap; his eyebrows were finely 
 marked, level, and intensely black. From beneath 
 them a pair of marvellous gray eyes looked out upon 
 the world with the patient acceptance of its pettiness 
 yet, withal, the kindly interest that belongs to those 
 who have acquired wisdom through a long study of its 
 peoples, and their widely divergent ways. His face 
 was clean shaven, his upper lip very long; the nose 
 
 264
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 straight, but a trifle broad; the mouth of the flexible 
 kind that changes shape constantly. 
 
 He sat as quiet as the Buddha; looking as though 
 having kept that position through many centuries, he 
 was prepared to remain thus placed until the end of 
 time. I did not at first see him very distinctly, as the 
 only light in the room, besides the feeble taper, was a 
 lamp on a stand near the teak-wood table, so arranged, 
 with its thick shade of some dull stuff, that its glow 
 fell upon the little velvet cushion, and left the occu- 
 pant of the niche in shadow. But if his pose belonged 
 to the Orient, his wonderful eyes were Anglo-Saxon, 
 and he kept them fixed upon me as I moved slowly 
 toward him up the long room. I searched rapidly 
 through my memory for a suitable phrase of welcome, 
 and sweeping a deep courtesy when still at a respectful 
 distance from his shrine said, while I looked down 
 modestly: 
 
 "O most illustrious of the disciples of Budd, O Ele- 
 phant among Palmists, accept the ardent admira- 
 tion of the humblest among thy votaries! Gladly 
 would I perform a pradakshina around thee, were I 
 sure that so poor a thing as woman could be allowed 
 to celebrate that graceful ceremony of respect or if 
 the narrow limits of thy shrine would permit of its 
 execution." 
 
 He answered me in kind. "Many have knelt be- 
 fore this poor table of teak-wood," he said, in a voice 
 so sweet yet vibrant that listening became a pleasure, 
 "but to kneel is not fitting for one who is at once the 
 Diamond, the Ruby, the Pearl, and the Opal among 
 women the most beautiful of all the Daughters of 
 Earth ! Before thee, even the Heaven-born must veil 
 their faces! Be seated, O Rose in bloom." 
 
 An oddly shaped teak-wood seat was in front of the 
 table, and I placed myself as desired. I wore the 
 gown trimmed with peacocks' feathers of jet. This 
 
 265
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 was to please little Josette, who, having repaired it 
 with marvellous cleverness, wished me to show appre- 
 ciation of her efforts. Naturally I disliked the frock 
 with its memories. High up on the left side of the 
 low corsage, so that they rested against my shoulder, 
 my maid had pinned three very perfect red roses. 
 These had, I fancied, provided the palmist with his 
 last flower of speech, for looking up after I had seated 
 myself I saw that his eyes were upon them. 
 
 "Koses please thee, O King among Sages?" I in- 
 quired, respectfully. 
 
 "They should, O large-eyed Lady," was the pictu- 
 resque response, "since we learn in the Pervigilium 
 Veneris that they are made from the blood of Venus, 
 from buds and breezes, from radiant sunbeams and 
 the kisses of love." 
 
 "And that poor thing, Woman, O Giant among 
 Prophets," I inquired, humbly, "dost thou deign to 
 cast thy piercing eyes tolerantly upon Woman ?" 
 
 The piercing eyes sparkled with what looked like 
 merriment, but the repose of face and figure remained 
 unaltered as he answered, gravely: 
 
 "Know then, O Lady of the radiant smile, that it is 
 said that after the creation of man no solid elements 
 were left; so, after profound meditation, the Great 
 One took the rotundity of the Moon, and the curves of 
 Creepers; the clinging of Tendrils, and the trembling 
 of Grass; the slenderness of the Reed, and the bloom 
 of Flowers; the lightness of Leaves, and the tapering 
 of the Elephant's trunk; the glances of the Deer; the 
 clustering of rows of Bees ; the joyous gayety of Sun- 
 beams, and the weeping of Clouds; the fickleness of 
 the Winds; the timidity of the Hare; the vanity of the 
 Peacock" I covered the jetted feathers on my breast 
 with both hands, and smiled deprecatingly at the 
 palmist "the softness of the Parrot's bosom," he went 
 on, speaking impressively, "with the hardness of Ada- 
 
 266
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 mant; the sweetness of Honey, with the cruelty of the 
 Tiger; the warm glow of Fire, and the coldness of 
 Snow; the chattering of Jays, and the cooing of the 
 Kokila"; he stopped speaking a long moment, then 
 continued, "the hypocrisy of the Crane the fidel- 
 ity," again he paused, "of the Chakrawaka. And, 
 compounding all these together, he made Woman!" 
 
 "Yet she pleased Man!" I said, thoughtfully. 
 
 "Yes, soft-voiced winner of Hearts," was the an- 
 swer, "and displeased him. First he would keep her, 
 then would none of her; at last he said, 'O Lord, what 
 is to be done ? I cannot li ve either with her or with- 
 out her!' ' 
 
 "That was before other men peopled the earth," I 
 said, slowly. "When others came he clung to the 
 one he had chosen, lest they wrest from him the De- 
 light of his Eyes even were she not the Joy of his 
 Heart." 
 
 "Of what use that I should look into the palm of 
 this Student of Souls," exclaimed the palmist, "when 
 she herself is a Reader of Thoughts!" 
 
 I laid my right hand, palm upward, upon the velvet 
 cushion of the table before me. "Will the Wisest 
 among Men deign to counsel the Ignorant?" I said, 
 pleadingly. 
 
 "Thy voice," said the palmist, slowly, "thy smile, 
 and thy beauty, surpass all voices, smiles, and beauty, 
 that " 
 
 "And my hand?" I interrupted. 
 
 He smiled, and his smile was charming, showing a 
 row of the most perfect teeth ; he bowed low, swaying 
 forward in odd fashion. 
 
 "Thy right hand shows what thou thyself hast 
 done," he said, suavely, "but I would read what thou 
 wast before thy Soul and Strength rose up and took 
 control, O deep-thinking Lady with the star-like 
 eyes !" 
 
 267
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 Then I must needs lay both hands, palms down- 
 ward, upon the cushion; afterward reversing their 
 position. Silence reigned in the large room a 
 silence so profound that distant sounds of the gay talk 
 in the drawing-room penetrated, and drew my 
 thoughts from this strange man, who was scrutinizing 
 my quiet hands as if they had been books of worth. I 
 thought, with an ache in my heart, of Etienne, of his 
 misplaced affection but was it misplaced? And 
 why, I asked myself, did I not rejoice, that the man 
 whom I had feared might grow to love me, had given 
 his heart elsewhere? This I could not understand; I 
 ought to have been glad, yet I was not. And I be- 
 gan to doubt if regret over his lost happiness, alone, 
 could so discomfort me. Then the old worrying 
 thoughts about Herbert swarmed back. I felt that 
 Etienne ought to know of Herbert's ill-behavior. Yet 
 how tell him ? If he had cared for me it would have 
 been so easy, but now, when he was all the time com- 
 paring me with that other woman doubtless to my 
 great disadvantage 
 
 "Those who come to me doubting," said the palmist, 
 breaking in upon my sad musings, "leave me believ- 
 ing." 
 
 He had finished his study of my hands, and swayed 
 back into his former position of profound repose. It 
 occurred to me that the poor man must be tired, he 
 had read so many palms. 
 
 "Never mind about telling my fortune," I said, im- 
 pulsively. "You are surely in need of rest. Let me 
 get you something to refresh you after your labors. 
 Will you choose what you would prefer, or may I 
 have the pleasure of guessing your favorite dishes, 
 and wine? Not," glancing, with a smile, at his lotus- 
 strewn robe, "that I have it in my power to offer the 
 viands to which you are probably accustomed." 
 
 "And what may they be ?" he inquired. 
 268
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITH.E 
 
 I shook my head. "Some preparation of the lotus?" 
 I suggested. 
 
 He smiled. Then, again becoming grave, he as- 
 sured me that he was not tired, and began to describe 
 my character very much as though he were reading it 
 aloud from some book. Following my lead, as before, 
 he dropped all Oriental imagery, and spoke plainly and 
 decisively. As for me I sat astounded, listening to a 
 strangely correct description of myself; of my mind, 
 heart, temperament, beliefs, virtues faults. Natu- 
 rally, he made this as flattering as he could, yet I found 
 it not a little trying that a stranger should thus hold 
 the secrets of my very soul itself. 
 
 "You are not superstitious," he continued, "so a 
 glimpse into futurity would not affect you. But your 
 nature is intensely religious. Although you believe 
 it cannot be done, the mere thought of lifting the veil 
 offends you." 
 
 "Yes," I murmured, "that is quite true." 
 
 He sighed. It was as though he would have given 
 me a hint of something important to come of danger, 
 perhaps yet, because of a firm conviction that the 
 beliefs of others should be respected, kept silence. 
 "Superstition is to be dreaded," he said, slowly, "yet 
 many so-called heathenish old superstitions have 
 grown out of truths. I may say to you, who are a 
 thinker, that it is unwise to be over quick in scorning 
 the creeds of others. Those who are willing to sift 
 the sayings of the primitive, of the ignorant, find some 
 gems of price." 
 
 I was reminded of my opal. I told the palmist of 
 its loss, and, thinking to turn the conversation into 
 what I considered its proper channel, asked, jestingly, 
 if I should find it. "I was born in October," I added, 
 "perhaps you believe that it is a lucky jewel for 
 me." 
 
 "It is a strange gem," was the grave answer. "The 
 269
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Turks believe that it falls from heaven in the light- 
 ning's flash; that it is the abode of af rites and genii, 
 since by its colors it suggests the glories of paradise. 
 They invest it with talismanic properties." 
 
 The flickering light of the taper, in its fragrant oil, 
 made the great shadow of the Buddha on the ceiling 
 appear to nod. The lamp on the stand near me had 
 begun to grow dim. I turned it higher. A few 
 sparks flew upward from its wick, showing that it was 
 nearly burned away. The stranger, leaning forward, 
 turned it out. We were almost in darkness; the faint 
 gleam of the taper before the bronze god alone re- 
 mained to illuminate the large room. 
 
 "Listen," commanded the palmist, but in a low 
 voice, as though fearing to be overheard, "your opal 
 will be restored to you but in what way you will 
 have to choose. It is your natal stone: it stands for 
 hope, innocence, purity! Rather than give up his 
 opal, Nonius, the Roman senator, sought banishment. 
 It was the size of a hazel-nut, and even in those days 
 was valued at what we call one million dollars. Yet 
 Marc Antony would have paid the price to have laid 
 it at the feet of the Egyptian sorceress!" The breeze 
 had died away, the tiny flame in the lotus burned 
 steadily, the shadow on the ceiling seemed as if listen- 
 ing, too. "Marc Antony would have given the jewel 
 of innocence, of purity, to her who had already de- 
 stroyed a pearl!" The shadow of the god appeared 
 to start. I looked uneasily over my shoulder and saw 
 two eyes watching me intently the eyes of my an- 
 cestor. "The opal worn by the Empress Josephine," 
 continued the palmist, "bore a strange name: L'in- 
 cendie de Troie. It disappeared. When who can 
 say? Where is it who can tell? Misfortune came; 
 the opal was lost." 
 
 There came a sharp knock at the door. I paid no 
 heed I must ask a question first. "My choice?" I 
 
 270
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 whispered, eagerly, "what is it to be? Between two 
 miseries? Can I refuse this choice ?" 
 
 I was strangely affected carried away by a some- 
 thing, I did not know what, about this man. An air 
 of strength, perhaps. Not strength of the body but 
 of the mind, of the soul. A feeling that he had 
 sought, and found, not only wisdom, but, in it, peace. 
 
 The knocking was repeated. Then the door was 
 abruptly opened. The shadow of the god flung itself 
 across the length of the room, then, as the light from 
 the hall rushed in, drew back disappeared. 
 
 "The Buddha himself makes answer," said the 
 palmist. 
 
 In the doorway stood Herbert and Etienne. 
 
 They brought me back to real life, for they said 
 they were waiting for me that supper was served. 
 
 271
 
 xxrv 
 
 On my dressing-table the following morning I found 
 a gift from the palmist. A fan a strange one. It 
 was arranged to hang from the belt by a slender snake 
 of silver; so pliable, its scales so fitting into each other, 
 that I could twist it this way and that at my ease. 
 The reptile held the ring of the fan in its mouth; its 
 tail was looped around the hook a lotus leaf that 
 slipped inside my belt. The sticks of the fan were of 
 ivory, the two outside ones heavily embossed with 
 lotus-flowers of silver. The fan was large of dull 
 gray silk. On it was the picture of a pond about 
 whose edges floated the lotus, in bloom. So cleverly 
 was this painted, that as I waved the fan to and fro 
 the water seemed to ripple, the flowers to sway, and 
 deep in the heart of the little lake a face appeared 
 the face of the Buddha. 
 
 When not in motion the face, beneath its veil of 
 rippling water, was hardly visible; the lilies were 
 quiet, the water still. 
 
 Twisted between the sticks of the fan was a slip of 
 paper on which was written, in flowing handwriting, 
 these lines: 
 
 As weapon grave, as weapon gay 
 (Or heart to save, or heart to slay), 
 Hang at thy side, as sword, alway. 
 (Need comes to-morrow, or to-day ?) 
 
 Both fan and paper were heavy with the scent of 
 sandal-wood. 
 
 As I looked admiringly at this evidence of the palm- 
 ist's courtesy toward his hostess, the words of his verse 
 
 '272
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 brought to my recollection the use to which my Scotch 
 ancestress had put her fan when saving the life of the 
 young Hungarian, the gypsy. Yet the palmist could 
 never have heard this story ! Then my mind reverted 
 to the opal, to its strange disappearance, and the 
 palmist's words about its recovery and my choice. 
 Scarce knowing that I did so, I again read his dog- 
 gerel, and lifting it, held it between me and the light, 
 idly wondering of what the odd silky paper on which 
 it was written was made. To my surprise I saw that 
 in the spaces between the lines of the verse there ran, 
 in each, two other lines, written in very small but per- 
 fectly legible characters. This had been done with 
 pale yellow ink. 
 
 Like subtle poison, sure if slow, 
 The Opal's vengeance follows on. 
 
 Grim Death will hail its twice-doomed foe 
 Ere thrice again has set the sun. 
 
 And ere thrice the sun has set 
 Comes thy choice do not forget ! 
 
 I smiled as I put the slip of paper away, amused by 
 the would-be necromancer's effort to impress me. I 
 promised myself that I would show the curious verse 
 to Etienne, after our guests had left Braithe, and he 
 was at leisure to think of me a little. That the 
 palmist had succeeded in thoroughly interesting every- 
 body, was proved by the conversation over the supper 
 table. He had been voted a wonder by all except- 
 ing Herbert, who declared that he had been told noth- 
 ing of the least importance. 
 
 Since it was Sunday morning, I did not, at first, 
 intend to wear my new ornament ; but upon reflecting 
 that were the palmist still at Braithe, he might feel 
 hurt did I fail to show appreciation, I hung it at my 
 side, as he had wished. It was wondered over, ad- 
 
 273
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 mired, pronounced a gem, by every woman in the 
 house. Some were envious; others declared that it 
 was uncanny, pointing out the lifelike sinuosity of the 
 long silver snake, the odd watchful expression in the 
 reptile's moonstone eyes, and the strange face now 
 hidden, now revealed under the rippling water of 
 the lotus pond. To Etienne alone the palmist's gen- 
 erosity seemed to give profound satisfaction. 
 
 The day was hot and sultry, with the promise of 
 more thunder showers. There had been no good 
 clearing after the heavy one of Saturday morning. 
 The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive, very try- 
 ing to those in delicate health. Poor little Jane looked 
 so miserable that I coaxed her into the hammock with 
 me after luncheon, when we had the rose-garden to 
 ourselves, all our guests having gone to their own 
 rooms for their usual siesta. 
 
 "How sweet you are in that black gauzy stuff, 
 Theo!" said the child, pillowing her golden head on 
 my shoulder. "Your arms and shoulders look lovely 
 through it, so white and cool! I'd like to sleep a lit- 
 tle, if it wouldn't tire you too much to hold me." 
 
 "Didn't you rest well last night, pet?" I asked, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Well enough, I guess," said the child, patting my 
 cheek softly. "And, anyway, you're not to fret about 
 me. There, let's sing each other to sleep and forget 
 our troubles," and she began to croon a little French 
 lullaby. 
 
 I was so tired that, although I had intended to keep 
 awake and guard Janey's slumbers, I fell sound asleep. 
 I was roused by hearing the child softly cautioning 
 someone not to wake me. 
 
 "Hush!" she whispered, "she's asleep, poor thing. 
 Don't she look lovely, just like a weary flower! But 
 you sit down, close by me. Draw up that chair, 
 
 274
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "I'm awake, Jane," I said, and opened my eyes. 
 Seated close by the child, facing us, looking steadily at 
 me, was Etienne. 
 
 "We were admiring you, dear," said Janey. 
 "Weren't we, Etienne?" He smiled kindly at the 
 child. "You're beautiful with your eyes shut, Theo," 
 she went on; "your lashes are so sweet against your 
 cheek! She was looking down when you first saw 
 her, wasn't she, Etienne?" He shook his head. 
 "What was she doing then?" 
 
 "Her eyes were very wide open," said Etienne, an 
 expression of such admiration in his that I felt my 
 color rise, "and she was scolding very hard and stamp- 
 ing her foot." 
 
 "What?" cried Jane, sitting up in her surprise. 
 
 "Yes," said Etienne, with an amused smile, "but 
 she wasn't scolding me, Jane. She wore," he went on, 
 impressively, "a blue and white check frock, soaking 
 wet ; and her dark mane, as she shook it in her indigna- 
 tion, flung off a shower of drops. When she saw me, 
 she ran away." He stopped speaking, and a look of 
 sadness clouded his dark face. 
 
 "And then?" questioned little Jane, her eyes big 
 with interest. 
 
 "Then ?" echoed Etienne, absently. 
 
 "Yes," urged Janey, "what happened then?" 
 
 "Nothing much," he said, steadily, "only I discov- 
 ered that I had fallen in love that was all." 
 
 "The cat episode!" cried Jane, in wild excitement. 
 "Did you help beat Herbert? When did you see her 
 again? Why didn't you come and see her, like the 
 others? Why did you wait so long, Etienne?" She 
 sank down beside me again; then, turning an anxious 
 little face, asked why my heart beat so. "It throbs, 
 and throbs!" she said. 
 
 I colored hotly. Etienne's eyes flashed, as if in 
 sudden excitement 
 
 275
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Lay your cheek against it, Janey," he said, softly, 
 "and you may, perhaps, learn its secrets." 
 
 The child obeyed, holding up a small finger to 
 enjoin silence. "It repeats two names over and over, 
 just two," she said, and laughed out in elfish fashion. 
 
 "What two, Jane?" questioned Etienne, a note of 
 intense eagerness in his voice. 
 
 "If I tell you," said the child, "may I hear about 
 all your sweethearts?" 
 
 "I never had but one," he said, gravely. 
 
 "No, no, Jane," I interposed. I was cut to the 
 quick already by his nonsense about seeing me as a 
 child. I felt I could not stand any more. "You 
 mustn't tease Etienne." 
 
 "May I hear about that one ?" Janey went on, pay- 
 ing no attention to my words. 
 
 "Yes if Theo is willing, Jane." 
 
 "Her heart says," whispered the child, " 'Janey, 
 Etienne Etienne, Janey!' Our names just ours." 
 
 Etienne bent forward, putting an arm across the 
 hammock, and rested his hand on the strands close 
 against my shoulder. He looked into my eyes until 
 I was forced to glance away daunted, frightened, by 
 the glow in his. 
 
 "May I tell the child my love story, Theo?" he 
 murmured. 
 
 I felt myself paling to the lips. "If you tell but 
 the truth," I said, coldly. 
 
 "Isn't her neck lovely through this filmy stuff?" 
 said Jane, dreamily; "see, I shall lay my head just 
 here," patting me softly, "and listen to your story." 
 
 "Isn't this golden hair lovely, you mean," I said, 
 drawing a long lock through my fingers. "But you're 
 not a vain little pussy!" 
 
 "Vain!" exclaimed the child. "How can I be, 
 when it's worn long to cover a hump?" 
 
 I glanced appealingly at Etienne. His answer 
 '276
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 startled me, for, stooping, he kissed both golden tress 
 and the fingers that held it. I drew my hand away. 
 
 "It is too soon for my love story, then?" he said, 
 sadly. "Yet I have waited so long, Theo!" 
 
 "Go ahead," commanded small Jane, "we're both 
 ready now. Why did you wait, that's the question? 
 Of course you fell in love with my Theo the minute 
 you saw her they all do but why didn't you con- 
 trive to see her again and say so?" 
 
 "I saw her every year," said Etienne, gravely, "but 
 I took great care that she should not see me." 
 
 "Why?" demanded the child. 
 
 "I was only a Rappelle " 
 
 "And you were afraid that father would make her 
 marry you for your money," cried Jane, starting up 
 again in her eagerness, "and he would. But oh 
 dear me!" she burst into a sudden storm of sobs, "she's 
 done it, after all." 
 
 "No, Jane," I said, earnestly, clasping the poor 
 little thing in my arms, and forgetting Etienne in my 
 desire to soothe her, "no, no, no." 
 
 "For what then?" demanded Etienne, sternly. 
 "Don't quiet the child with falsehoods." 
 
 "You shan't scold Theo," she wailed, "for she's 
 'most too good to live ! Oh, dear, oh, dear, now I've 
 gone and made myself think of that awful Portent 
 again! I can't sleep for thinking about it. I'm too 
 bad a child to want to go in the Death Coach, yet I'm 
 the one who ought to, because of my crooked back 
 Lilian said so, and for once she's right." 
 
 I made no further effort to soothe her. I knew it 
 would be best for her to speak her heart out. 
 
 "This morning I thought mean thoughts of people," 
 she went on. "They all came to church for the first 
 time, and I knew why! They hoped to flatter the 
 Lord God into helping them get their jewels back 
 and I was glad He'd be angry with them for it, yes, I 
 
 277
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 was ! Old gump Bandhar down on his marrow-bones, 
 bawling out the responses as if he were good as good; 
 and all the time with half his mind full of scarf-pins, 
 and the other half full of hatred of Herbert." 
 
 "Why of Herbert?" asked Etienne, quickly. 
 
 "Oh, because Herbert's so fond of Theo he's got a 
 right to be, for he's our cousin and Bandhar's as silly 
 over her himself! No, not quite so silly, but almost." 
 
 "No wonder that my story fails to rouse interest, 
 when you listen to so many every day," said Etienne, 
 looking at me coldly. 
 
 Janey dried her eyes, forgetting herself in watch- 
 ing us. 
 
 "You tell such different tales," I said, suavely, 
 "that I always find them interesting." 
 
 "Different, Theo? Pray explain." 
 
 "Before the child?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What about the charming girl, married to the man 
 who fails to understand her?" 
 
 "Do I understand you, Theo?" 
 
 I was ashamed of the glow of happiness that sud- 
 denly warmed my heart. 
 
 "This is extremely interesting," said Janey, in an 
 awed voice. "May I help? Etienne," very sol- 
 emnly, "I think Theo likes you better than anybody 
 in the world after me. Now then, please kiss her 
 betrothal ring, and say that the big ruby is a drop of 
 your heart's blood." 
 
 Etienne said nothing, but he kissed both the ruby 
 and my hand. 
 
 "There goes your heart again, Theo, thump, thump, 
 thump!" said Jane. "Don't you feel well? Yes? 
 Then why don't you tell poor Etienne how much you 
 care for him now?" 
 
 "Say something nice to me, Theo, if you can," 
 pleaded Etienne. 
 
 278
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I smiled and blushed. How foolish they were 
 yet I found their nonsense sweet. 
 
 "You are both geese," I said. "But I prefer geese 
 to swans sometimes." 
 
 Etienne still held my hand in his, little Jane clasped 
 them close in both of hers. "Do you like him next 
 best to me, Theo? Answer." 
 
 "Yes, Jane," I whispered, meekly. 
 
 "Well now, Etienne, I hope you're satisfied!" said 
 the child. 
 
 "No, not yet, little Jane," he said, quietly. 
 
 "Then you're a Greedy Peter," said Jane, severely, 
 "for you can't come first. I'm first with Theo, always. 
 Listen to the soft rustle, rustle, up above in the 
 branches. The leaves are talking to the birds. Isn't 
 it pleasant here under these great big trees? How 
 quiet the river is; and such a queer gray! And the 
 sky's beginning to match it it looks unnatural, some- 
 how ! I hate unnatural things ! I'm unnatural, Her- 
 bert's unnatural. I do believe a storm is coming!" 
 
 "In what way?" Etienne asked. 
 
 "In what way what?" demanded the child. "Oh, 
 you mean about Herbert gracious, here comes 
 Hervey! Now what does he want? It's always the 
 way ! Just when we three are having a perfect time 
 together, all soothed down, forgetting our worries, 
 then along comes somebody to interrupt. What is it, 
 Hervey, please?" 
 
 Etienne was frowning at his faithful servant, and I, 
 too, felt annoyed. Jane's grumbling was echoed in 
 our hearts. We were very comfortable Hervey was 
 not welcome. I was more than comfortable, I was 
 ridiculously happy. Happy that the very thing had 
 happened that I had so earnestly wished to prevent; 
 Etienne loved me! To be sure, my happiness was a 
 trifle marred by self -scorn; I had the grace to be 
 ashamed of my unconquerable desire to please. My 
 
 279
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 conscience reproved me for the delight I felt in learn- 
 ing that I, and I alone, filled my husband's heart 
 that I had not, never had had, any rival. 
 
 "Mrs. Gill wishes to see Mrs. Rappelle," Hervey 
 announced. 
 
 "Well," sighed Jane, "I mind her less than one of 
 those tiresome strangers-within-our-gates. You will 
 stay with me, won't you, Etienne?" 
 
 "Yes, Janey," he said, kindly, as he almost lifted 
 me from my hammock. "Theo," he whispered, as he 
 slowly released me, "did you mean what you said just 
 now? Do I come next to the child?" 
 
 "Yes, Etienne." 
 
 "My darling!" he murmured. I moved hurriedly 
 away. 
 
 "Straws show which way the wind blows," said 
 Hervey, as he followed me to the house, "and felts 
 and velvets likewise, I imagine. Hers is on her right 
 ear." 
 
 I knew that he alluded to Mrs. Gill's bonnet. 
 
 "I hope nothing has gone wrong at the farm, Her- 
 vey," I said. 
 
 "I fear something has, Mrs. Rappelle, since her mind 
 to her a king-pin isn't," he answered, gravely. "She 
 doesn't even smile as she would want to smile she's 
 talking, with an effort, to Mr. Praie." 
 
 Hervey was right; Mrs. Gill sat in her high buggy, 
 her lilac-bestrewn bonnet on one side, making a very 
 apparent effort to keep up a lively conversation with 
 one of the detectives. She was evidently relieved to 
 see me, and asked if I would drive a little way with 
 her, as she wished to talk to me. 
 
 "We all come to Mrs. Rappelle now, same as we did 
 when she was Miss Braithe," she explained, with an 
 air of gracious condescension to Mr. Praie, who was 
 helping me into the buggy. "She an' me often put 
 our heads together over advising each other." And 
 
 280
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 with a smile that was intended to be arch, but was only 
 ghastly, because of her liveliness being forced, we 
 drove rapidly away. When we had passed between 
 the Leopards, however, she drew the horse down to a 
 walk. 
 
 "He may be smart as all possessed, Miss Theo, but 
 he certainly doesn't look to be!" she said, alluding to 
 the detective. "Whatever keeps 'em hangin' or here 
 so long, I wonder? Them thieves must be miles away 
 by now ! But p'raps they enjoy our mountainous air." 
 Then, dismissing the detectives from her thoughts, 
 she turned an anxious face toward me. "I'm harried 
 most to death about Jim," she said. "They say he's 
 been hangin' 'round the brick-yards lately, and I seen 
 him, only a half-hour back, slip along past the alders 
 just above the brook, as I crossed the bridge on my 
 way to church. I jest turned back an' come quick for 
 you. I think by now he's at the edge of the meadows 
 yonder, in the woods," pointing toward the river with 
 her whip. "Most likely in the little path that runs 
 top o' the bank. I do want my Jim to quit roamin' 
 and come home!" she burst out, with sudden vehe- 
 mence. "No," as I would have spoken, "of course I 
 know he can't stay though it's an extryordinary 
 thing to me why him an' Mr. Gill can't agree ! The 
 green-eyed monster, I guess, Miss Theo," wagging her 
 head with would-be playfulness. "But there, you 
 can't mix oil an' water, and if Jim does take after me, 
 his temper is most extryordinarily like Mr. Wylde's, 
 who, when riled, was worse than a prickly catcus but 
 it's ill speakin' against the dead. Now Abel has the 
 sweetest, flacidest disposition, but Jim was always a 
 limb of Satan! If only Mr. Rappelle would get a 
 chance for the poor boy out West ; an' if you'll speak 
 a word to him now I dassen't myself, he bein' so 
 mad!" 
 
 "I am very sorry to hear that you are still anxioua 
 281
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 about him," I said, gravely. Then, remembering 
 what Herbert had told me about giving Jim a chance 
 to earn his living, I added, "I understood Mr. Fayne 
 to say that Jim was doing well now." 
 
 Mrs. Gill shook her head. " 'Tain't true," she said, 
 sadly. "I guess Mr. Herbert's the same as ever; 
 he always would say black was white to pleasure you. 
 Oh, Miss Theo, if you only would try what you can 
 do! Jim sets such store' by you." I got out of the 
 buggy. "But you ain't got any parasol! Nor a hat! 
 Oh, Miss Theo!" 
 
 I assured her that I needed no protection from the 
 sun since the sky was, as little Jane had pointed out, 
 already overcast. 
 
 "An' you've got a fan, too," said Mrs. Gill. "My, 
 but that snake looks extry ordinarily reel ! I can most 
 see it wriggle." I took it from my belt that she might 
 examine it more closely. She passed her finger over 
 the silver lilies embossed upon the outside sticks. 
 
 "Ain't they heavy!" she exclaimed, in admiration, 
 "yet they appear to be as light as light, jest floatin'. 
 I won't wait, if you don't mind, Miss Theo; 'twouldn't 
 do for him to see me here." 
 
 She drove away while I, replacing the fan at my 
 side, and catching up my pretty trailing skirts lest 
 unseen briers should rend them, walked swiftly across 
 the meadow toward the point indicated. The woods 
 grew thick upon the steep bank above the river, and 
 the underbrush was dense and difficult to push aside. 
 As I picked my way carefully through the thicket, 
 thinking every moment to come upon the little foot- 
 path, I stopped now and again to listen, hoping to hear 
 Jim's firm footfall, or the crackling of twigs, to tell 
 me of his neighborhood. But I heard nothing, save 
 the ordinary woodland sounds. Presently I found 
 the path a mere track worn by the workmen and 
 stood uncertain which way to go. I decided to turn 
 
 282
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 to the right, but after skirting the bank, in the direc- 
 tion of the entrance gate, for some distance, I felt sure 
 that I might better have gone the other way, and have 
 followed the path eastward, toward the chapel. This 
 I did with no better success. Jim was nowhere to be 
 seen. 
 
 Despairing of finding him, I returned to the place 
 where I had at first come out from the thicket, think- 
 ing that if he were still in the wood he must pass by 
 me to return to the high-road. Here, beneath a tall 
 walnut tree, I seated myself to wait, with what patience 
 I might, for one who in all probability would not come. 
 My thoughts were such pleasant company, however, 
 that some time passed before I realized that I had 
 been waiting long; and then it was an odd rustling in 
 the underbrush that recalled my mission to my wan- 
 dering mind. Ashamed of my selfishness, I listened 
 intently. Was it Jim? A long moment passed ; then 
 a brown rabbit hopped briskly into the path, and, see- 
 ing me, came to an abrupt standstill. The little 
 creature was so much frightened that its tiny heart 
 throbbed, and I held myself as motionless as the tree- 
 trunk against which I leaned, hoping to quiet its ter- 
 rors. I succeeded in convincing it that I was harm- 
 less, for after a few moments it hopped away and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Tired of sitting still, I began to walk up and down 
 the narrow track, quite without hope of seeing Jim, 
 yet unwilling to return to the house until I had waited 
 as long as possible. I felt I must give him every 
 chance. Because of the dull heavens, it was already 
 darker than it should have been at that time of the 
 afternoon. I fancied that it must be long past six 
 o'clock. Under the heavy trees, shut in so closely by 
 the thicket of underbrush, a gloomy twilight reigned. 
 The dampness from the recent showers brought out 
 all the sweet scents of the woods, and had it not been 
 
 283
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 for the knowledge that Etienne might disapprove of 
 my loitering, unaccompanied, so far from home, I 
 would have enjoyed the repose of the hour. 
 
 Below the rugged slope the river seemed to be say- 
 ing "Hu-s-h, hu-s-h!" to the shore. I stopped to lis- 
 ten. As I did so a hand was laid lightly upon my 
 arm. Terrified, I turned quickly, crying, "Jim?" 
 
 It was Herbert Fayne. 
 
 284
 
 XXV 
 
 I had not been alone with Herbert since the 
 night of the accident, but his look of displeased sur- 
 prise quickly dispelled my alarm. For if I frowned 
 at him, he certainly did not smile at me; but, his fin- 
 gers tightening upon my arm, eyed me with suspicion. 
 
 "What are you doing here, Dora?" he demanded. 
 
 "I am looking for Jim Wylde, Herbert," I said, 
 coldly. "Have you seen him?" 
 
 "And what do you want of Jim?" he asked. 
 
 "I wish to speak to him, Herbert please let go of 
 my arm I want him to be reconciled with his people, 
 to turn over a new leaf, and to go home." 
 
 "You want to spoil him with some philanthropic 
 nonsense, I suppose. Is that it?" he said, sneeringly. 
 "You want Rappelle to provide for him?" 
 
 I did not answer. 
 
 "You mustn't pauperize poor old Jim, Dolly," he 
 continued, slipping his fingers down my arm until he 
 could clasp my hand, "that will never do!" 
 
 "Have you been talking to him yourself?" I asked. 
 "Have you really given him work, and renewed your 
 old intimacy?" 
 
 "There never was, never could be, any intimacy 
 between Jim Wylde and me," was the careless answer. 
 "Class distinctions forbid." 
 
 "Class distinctions!" I exclaimed, scornfully. 
 "What nonsense you talk! You are both Americans, 
 your grandfathers were Americans, so you stand as 
 equals in the race." 
 
 "What race, dear?" he asked, idly. 
 285
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "The race for success," I said. "You look as 
 though dressed for some race now." 
 
 He wore a blue shirt of light-weight flannel, knick- 
 erbockers, golf stockings, and tennis shoes. These last 
 had enabled him to approach me noiselessly, their rub- 
 ber soles making no sound. He wore no hat, and the 
 damp atmosphere made his closely cropped hair curl 
 in soft rings about his forehead. This careless dress 
 showed his beautiful figure to the utmost advantage. 
 His necktie was almost unfastened, allowing the flan- 
 nel collar to fall away from his pillar-like throat; his 
 sleeves were rolled up above the elbow, disclosing mag- 
 nificently shaped arms. I thought I had never seen 
 anyone to compare with him but I tried to draw 
 away my hand. 
 
 "I make all the others sing small, Dolly?" he asked, 
 smiling, the suspicious expression dying from his eyes, 
 and the one I feared succeeding it. "Is that what 
 you're thinking, dear?" 
 
 "Let me go, Herbert," I commanded. "It is time 
 I was at home." 
 
 He did not answer, but looked down at me in a way 
 that made me wish that the black silk lining of my 
 thin summer gown were cut high. In a passion of in- 
 dignation I strove to wrench my hand away. I 
 stamped my foot. 
 
 "Herbert," I cried, "you are detestable! Let me 
 go, at once." 
 
 "Dear, dear, what a little termagant!" he said, smil- 
 ing, and released my hand only to catch me lightly, 
 but firmly, about the waist with both arms. I placed 
 my hands upon his breast, pushing him from me. This 
 he allowed, as far as the length of his arms would per- 
 mit. "No horses for me to manage here," he went 
 on, "I can devote myself entirely to my sweet little 
 cousin!" 
 
 His eyes shone, but he had paled in his excitement 
 286
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 he looked a reckless dare-devil. So must Apollo 
 have looked, I thought, when he pursued poor 
 Daphne ; and a great disgust filled my heart. 
 
 "Herbert," I said, gravely, trying to conceal both 
 this feeling and my fear, "because you are my cousin 
 I have given you, as such, many rights " 
 
 "I want a husband's or a lover's, Dolly," he broke 
 in, quickly, "a cousin's rights be hanged!" 
 
 This insult stung me to fury and, scarce knowing 
 what I did, I lifted my fan and struck him sharply 
 across the face. Because of the silver lotus-flowers, 
 the blow was a heavy one ; but, disregarding it, he only 
 laughed gayly, as if in delight at my prowess, and, 
 crushing me to him, cried: 
 
 "You know the saying, Dolly a kiss for a blow! 
 Now, take what you have earned." 
 
 Covering my face with both hands, I strove, desper- 
 ately, to save myself from the stain of his lips, although 
 heart-sick from the consciousness that this effort must 
 prove vain. Then I heard singing close at hand 
 and knew that I was free. Someone was approaching, 
 along the road from the direction of the chapel. 
 
 ' ' Her brow is like the snaw-drift, 
 
 Her throat is like the swan ; 
 Her face it is the fairest " 
 
 sang a pleasant tenor voice. Herbert released me 
 quickly, moving aside; and, as I strove to regain my 
 composure, Mr. Praie, the detective, appeared before 
 us. 
 
 "I'm after you, Mr. Fayne," he said, taking off his 
 hat in acknowledgment of my presence. 
 
 "What?" exclaimed Herbert, sharply, stepping back 
 a pace, and eying the man oddly. 
 
 "Can't do without you, sir," was the smiling an- 
 swer, "for you're a host in yourself!" 
 
 Herbert, looking relieved, said, with his customary 
 287
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 air of good-nature, that he was quite at Mr. Praie'a 
 disposal. 
 
 As I tried to recover some ease of manner, realizing 
 keenly all the time the impossibility of hiding my dis- 
 tress, I could not but agree with Mrs. Gill in her opin- 
 ion, that the detective was stupid. For he stood star- 
 ing at us with an air of benevolent density, apparently 
 unconscious of my embarrassment, and not seeming to 
 see the mark of my fan across Herbert's cheek. But, 
 even while I wondered, he commented upon this. 
 
 "I guess you've been scrambling up the bank 
 through the brambles," he said, comfortably, "they've 
 slapped your face badly." 
 
 "Yes," said Herbert, coloring faintly, "you're right, 
 as always, Praie. It would take a clever chap to fool 
 you!" ; 
 
 Again I wondered at the detective's obtuseness 
 but was it real or only assumed? Herbert had made 
 no effort to hide the sneer in his voice, yet the man 
 chuckled, as if pleased by his flattery. Mr. Praie was 
 fat and sandy. He looked as if he might readily de- 
 tect a mistake in some favorite dish, but not a flaw in 
 the heart of a fellow-creature. 
 
 "I guess you've been playing tennis," he now said, 
 with an air of conceit that I might, under other cir- 
 cumstances, have found amusing. 
 
 "Right again," said Herbert, laughing; and his 
 laugh was insolent. 
 
 "Want to know how I knew?" demanded the de- 
 tective. 
 
 "Yes," sneered Herbert. 
 
 "Tennis shoes," said Mr. Praie, pointing at Her- 
 bert's feet with a fat forefinger. 
 
 "Praie, you're an out-and-out marvel!" exclaimed 
 Herbert. "Those thieves haven't the ghost of a 
 chance, have they, Dolly?" And he smiled at me as 
 fondly as though we had been alone. 
 
 288
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 I became suddenly afraid that Mr. Praie might 
 leave us; while the fear that he might not seemed to 
 enter Herbert's head at the same moment, for he said, 
 hastily, "I must take my cousin home before I can be 
 of any use to you, Praie. I don't like to have her go 
 alone so many toughs about, you know. You wait 
 here, and I'll be back in a jiffy." 
 
 "Toughs? Yes, you may bet your life!" was the 
 cheerful answer. "I stumble upon 'em by the dozen 
 in my profession." 
 
 I looked at the man appealingly could I make him 
 desire to return with me? He must. 
 
 "Mr. Praie will come, too," I said, smiling at him. 
 "He doesn't want to be caught in the storm that is 
 coming. Do you, Mr. Praie?" 
 
 "A storm is coming sure enough, Mrs. Rappelle, but 
 not this afternoon, I guess," was the placid answer. 
 "Nothing, that is, but a preliminary caper, so to 
 speak," he added, jestingly. 
 
 "No, no, Dolly," Herbert interfered; "Praie will 
 wait here for me. This is a grand place to discuss 
 secrets in." 
 
 "Grand," assented Praie, absently; "did I feel a 
 drop?" He held up a fat hand. "And you without 
 an umbrella or cloak, Mrs. Rappelle! Guess you'd 
 better hurry along." 
 
 "Please come, too!" I said. I looked at him pite- 
 ously, and, unconsciously, held out my hand. I had 
 made up my mind not to go without him. 
 
 Herbert stepped quickly forward and took my out- 
 stretched hand in his. "Come, Dolly!" he said, 
 attempting to draw me on. "I'll be back directly, 
 Praie." 
 
 I tried to pull my hand away; but Herbert, perhaps 
 counting too much upon the detective's lack of in- 
 sight, released it only to throw an arm around me, and 
 urged me along the path. 
 
 289
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Isn't she an obstinate little cousin?" he said, in 
 would-be playful tones. "Come on, child! Praie's 
 got sense enough to know that two's company." 
 
 "And three's a crowd. And four," said the detec- 
 tive reflectively, "is a gang! A gang of ruffians, I 
 guess." 
 
 I felt that the moment had come when I must speak 
 out, and tell at least a part of the truth. I decided 
 to say that Herbert was teasing me, and that I did not 
 wish to be alone with him. But to say this lightly 
 as I knew it must be said required such an effort, 
 and my nerves were already so unstrung, that as I 
 began to speak my eyes filled with tears. 
 
 "Mr. Praie " I faltered, looking into his fat face, 
 imploringly, "Mr. Praie " 
 
 "Bless me!" he interrupted, apparently not noticing 
 that I was speaking, "I'd forgotten all about it, and 
 it's just the thing. That queer party gave it to me, 
 and I popped it in here. Want to see a handy pocket, 
 Mrs. Rappelle ?" and he held open his coat. 
 
 As Mr. Praie evidently expected my undivided 
 attention, Herbert was obliged to let me go. Grate- 
 ful for the opportunity to escape him, if only for a 
 moment, I admired the large pocket let into the lining 
 of the detective's coat, enthusiastically. 
 
 "See what's in it!" continued Mr. Praie, in a tone 
 as though speaking to a child. "And you shall have 
 it, too, for he told me to give it to the lady it would 
 become the most. Ah! there's another drop of rain. 
 I guess I'd better hurry and cover you up." 
 
 So saying he drew from the big pocket a flat parcel, 
 wrapped in the same odd paper as that upon which the 
 palmist had written his verse, and, opening it, disclosed 
 what appeared to be but a square of very heavy em- 
 broidery. Silver lotus-flowers and their leaves, so 
 massed together that the material upon which they 
 were worked was invisible. The square, when un- 
 
 290
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 folded, proved to be but one end of a very broad and 
 long scarf, of diaphanous gray silk ; and this Mr. Praie 
 proceeded to twist deftly about my shoulders. As- 
 tonished, I stood quite still, while with puckered brows 
 and mouth pursed up, he arranged the voluminous 
 scarf to his liking. When he had finished, the broad 
 embroidered ends completely covered the thinner part ; 
 spreading over my shoulders on either side, like a 
 cloak. These ends were impenetrable, because of 
 the silver lilies and their leaves. 
 
 "Wait a bit," said Mr. Praie, "they've got to be 
 fastened at your throat, front and back. There's more 
 to come, see!" 
 
 He took from the same pocket a small flat box of 
 sandal-wood, and opened it. Within were two little 
 coiled snakes of silver, with tiny moonstone eyes. 
 
 "Brooches," said the detective, complacently. 
 "Cute, ain't they? Something like that wriggler 
 your fan is swung on. Guess that palmist feller buys 
 'em by the gross!" He laughed, and, taking out the 
 little pins, fastened my oddly contrived cape securely. 
 "Whole business smells of sandal-wood, don't it? 
 Hope you don't object to the scent, Mrs. Rappelle? 
 No? That's good. I don't like it myself. Now I 
 guess, if you're ready, we'll make tracks for home. 
 It doesn't pour, so to speak, but it's beginning to come 
 down quite lively!" And keeping up his common- 
 place rattle he started me on my journey. 
 
 His lack of comprehension or his pretence of it 
 served me well; for he utterly failed to understand 
 Herbert's efforts to leave him in the woods, and, when 
 that proved impossible, to induce him to give up his 
 place close behind me. Beside me neither could 
 walk, since the path was only wide enough for one. 
 Hints, innuendoes, and, at last, outspoken remon- 
 strances, were alike vain. At my heels Mr. Praie 
 kept until we emerged from the thicket, and entered 
 
 291
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 the open path leading from the chapel to the house, 
 when he appropriated the place at my side, leaving 
 Herbert to follow and to fume. 
 
 By the time we reached home the rain was falling 
 fast, and from the distance came the dull rumble of 
 thunder. 
 
 "It won't last long," said Mr. Praie, cheerfully; 
 "we're only getting the edges of the shower. See, 
 Mrs. Rappelle, the sun is trying to struggle out and 
 drive it away from you, and Braithe Manor!" 
 
 Over the hills to the west there was a slight rift in 
 the clouds; but even as I looked it closed, and the 
 feeble ray of sunshine was gone. 
 
 "Never mind," said my kind companion, "the 
 clouds have got a silver lining anyhow!" 
 
 "Like your famous pocket," I said, smiling. "And 
 if you will wait until I can take out the brooches, you 
 shall have its lining back again." 
 
 "Let me unfasten them, Dolly!" cried Herbert, 
 springing forward, and nearly knocking Mr. Praie 
 down. I was surprised at the dexterity the little man 
 showed in avoiding him, yet, somehow, managing to 
 remain just where he had been when Herbert ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 "Mrs. Rappelle's maid will do it best," he said, good- 
 humoredly, while he caught Herbert's arm and 
 punched him playfully in the ribs. "You and I are 
 butter-fingered fellers, Mr. Fayne! Say, will you 
 give me just three words apart, now? No, Mrs. Rap- 
 pelle," shaking his head at me, "I won't take the 
 scarf back. I don't gives presents with a string 
 tied to 'em. Honestly now, I'll feel hurt if you 
 won't accept it." . 
 
 "And the palmist?" I asked. "Surely he will feel 
 hurt if you " 
 
 "Not a bit of it," he interrupted, earnestly. "But 
 if you'd rather not have it for keeps, perhaps you'll 
 
 292
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 take care of it for me for just a few days. I'd really 
 be obliged." 
 
 To this I willingly consented. "Here's Mr. Rap- 
 pelle," he continued, as Etienne came into the hall 
 from the library. "Will you look at Mrs. Rappelle's 
 mackintosh, sir? It's a mighty curious one, but it's 
 kept her shoulders dry. Now, then, Mr. Fayne, shall 
 we step into your sanctum sanctorum?" And he drew 
 Herbert into the latter's room, leaving Etienne and 
 me alone. 
 
 "Silver wings folded forward!" said Etienne, 
 smiling. "An odd rain-cloak, indeed, Theo. You 
 went away with Mrs. Gill, Merle said. Won't you 
 spare time to tell me her errand?" 
 
 I followed him into the library with lagging steps; 
 I had no wish to relate my experiences of the after- 
 noon. 
 
 "See what quaint little brooches, Etienne!" I said, 
 as he closed both doors behind us. "Will you unpin 
 the one in the back for me, please, so that I may show 
 you the scarf?" He did as I requested, and I un- 
 wound it and held it up for him to admire. "It is 
 such a filmy thing, Etienne, it looks as though woven 
 of mist!" and I tossed it lightly over my head. It 
 fell far below my shoulders. 
 
 "A star in a cloud," he said, gently, "or the Lady 
 Moon herself!" 
 
 I smiled, and swept a courtesy if only I might es- 
 cape making a full confession! 
 
 "I want you to do something for me, Etienne," I 
 said, coaxingly. "I want you to find employment for 
 poor James Wylde, far, far out West if his mother 
 and I can persuade him to accept it!" 
 
 He took my hand and raised it to his lips. "I am 
 in a mood for granting favors, Theo," he said. 
 
 "What has happened to put you in so kindly a 
 humor?" I asked, blushing under his admiring gaze. 
 
 293
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "I am happy because of your gift, Theo." 
 
 "My gift?" I was indeed puzzled. "Do you mean 
 this scarf? It is not mine, but Mr. Praie's." And I 
 hastened to tell him everything that had occurred, 
 omitting, of course, Herbert's ill-behavior. 
 
 "So Praie brought you this?" Etienne asked, look- 
 ing keenly at me and touching the scarf. 
 
 "No," I said, "he did not bring it for me ; he only 
 happened to have it in his pocket when he happened 
 along." 
 
 "A great many happens," said Etienne, slowly. 
 "And I happen, I suppose, to be happy, Theo. Per- 
 haps I have no right to be, perhaps you did not intend 
 to give me what I prize so highly." 
 
 "May I know what this great gift is, Etienne?" I 
 asked, gently. 
 
 "It is Hope," he said. 
 
 I stood silent for I did not know what to say. My 
 heart began to beat in its new foolish fashion, my 
 color came and went, I dared not raise my eyes. He 
 came close to me, and, putting his arm around me, 
 drew me to him. 
 
 "Theo," he whispered, softly, "Theo, my darling, 
 did you mean what you said in the rose-garden? You 
 have begun to like me a little ? I come next to Jane 
 in your heart?" 
 
 "Yes Etienne," I faltered. And I felt his lips 
 upon my cheek. 
 
 "May I come in?" clamored Jane at the door. 
 "Herbert says Theo is in here, dressed up in the scarf 
 of a fairy!" 
 
 "Oh, yes," sighed Etienne, resignedly. "Come in 
 if you like, little Jane!" 
 
 294
 
 XXVI 
 
 I thought long of Herbert that night and the more 
 I thought, the more anxious I became. There had 
 been much notice taken of the welt across his face, and 
 great curiosity shown as to how he had come by it. 
 He had borne all the raillery and cross-questioning 
 with the utmost good-humor, not even wincing when 
 a chance shot went home, as when Freddy Love in- 
 sisted that the mark was the result of an effort to pick 
 forbidden fruit. 
 
 "Even when grapes hang far above my head," Her- 
 bert had rejoined, with his sunny smile, "I'm not a 
 fox, to call them sour!" 
 
 "Meaning that you will go on scrambling for them, 
 Mr. Fayne ?" Mrs. Allenby asked, with a swift glance 
 at me. 
 
 "Yes," was the laconic answer, "I shall." 
 
 This, being taken as a joke, raised a laugh, but my 
 heart sank within me. "What could I do, I asked my- 
 self, if Herbert persisted in his folly. The answer 
 from my conscience came quickly, "Tell Etienne." 
 Etienne, who had but just spoken of his love for me ! 
 I had thought before that it would be easy to speak to 
 him of Herbert, did he care for me; and now, had I 
 felt that his love was founded upon esteem, I would 
 not have hesitated. But I suspected that his fancy 
 had been taken, when I was in my early teens, only 
 because of my name. As a Braithe I possessed a 
 fascination for a Kappelle; my background of tradi- 
 tion threw a glamour around me. But the name, 
 while it gave me charm in his eyes, also did me a 
 
 295
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 wrong; for he knew of the evil in the Braithe blood 
 and might be pardoned for suspecting, did I tell of 
 Herbert's strange infatuation, that I had done much 
 to increase and nothing to prevent it. 
 
 My growing affection for my husband was founded 
 upon a rock; it must endure. But his love for me 
 would it bear so sharp a test? I thought not, and I 
 hesitated before the misery of seeing it die. I would 
 put off the evil day. Herbert's wicked thoughts 
 would wander from me were I careful to avoid him. 
 Even as I decided upon this course I knew it to be 
 wrong; but my besetting sin, my Braithe sin, the 
 desire to please, held me to it. 
 
 Monday was as depressing, as hot and muggy, as 
 had been the two preceding days; and I thought that 
 all the members of our house-party, save Mr. Carring- 
 ton, were glad to leave Braithe Manor. There was 
 something a trifle odd in their manner when bidding 
 us good-by ; a something that told me that the curious 
 superstition of the Portent had taken a strong hold 
 upon their imaginations. In the eyes of all there 
 lurked an expression of uneasy dread, as they went 
 through with the customary civilities of farewell. It 
 was as though each secretly wondered for which one 
 of our little family group Death had driven the Phan- 
 tom Coach and those galloping horses to the door 
 of Braithe House. They all said good-by so very 
 gently to my little Jane. 
 
 Mrs. Ainslie had invited Lilian to spend two weeks 
 at Newport with her, in August. But even with this 
 visit in prospect, Lilian was in very low spirits; her 
 cheeks were pale, the corners of her mouth drooped, 
 and her pretty forehead was marred by a disfiguring 
 frown. 
 
 Mr. Praie had given our guests a stirrup-cup, in the 
 shape of cheerful news about the missing jewels. He 
 had assured them that at last a clue had been found, 
 
 296 .
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 and that the lost trinkets would soon be restored. He 
 stood, with Lilian, Janey, Herbert and me, at the top 
 of the steps, seeing the party off. Etienne went with 
 them to town, for the day. 
 
 "Have you a clue?" Herbert asked, as the carriages 
 disappeared down the avenue. 
 
 "No," said Mr. Praie, composedly. "Thought I'd 
 give 'em a good send off, that's all." 
 
 "To speed the departing pests!" said Hervey, who 
 was standing just behind me. 
 
 "The good riddance of anything bad rubbishy 
 people, or any trash is comforting," added Janey. 
 
 I felt that we were rude. "Hush, Jane," I said, 
 gently. "You are very fond of Mrs. Love and Mr. 
 Carrington. And they are all pleasant people." 
 
 "Why did they all go at once, I wonder," said Her- 
 bert, while I felt Janey's kiss of repentance upon my 
 hand. 
 
 "Rats leaving a sinking ship," said Lilian, morosely, 
 then cried out in terror, as a large black spider sud- 
 denly appeared crawling upon her shoulder. "Kill it, 
 kill it!" she shrieked, as, quicker than the others, I 
 knocked it off with my fan. Shuddering for I dis- 
 like killing anything I complied. "A death's-head 
 spider!" moaned Lilian (it had had the odd markings 
 of skull and cross bones upon its bloated back), "and 
 you were fool enough to kill it, Theo Braithe. It's 
 not nine yet, hours from noon. 
 
 'Araignee au matin, chagrin/* 
 
 You'll have bad luck all day long." 
 
 "Why, you told her to kill it " Janey began, 
 when Mr. Praie interrupted her: 
 
 "Pardon me," he said, "but I don't understand that 
 lingo. Will someone kindly explain?" 
 
 Herbert answered him. "This is a French super- 
 297
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 stition," he said, with a contemptuous glance toward 
 Lilian. "Kill a spider in the morning, vexation; at 
 noon, pleasure; in the evening, hope. I mean to 
 smash mine at night every time, for I'm in need of 
 hope, badly," and he looked at me. 
 
 I avoided him all that day, and, thanks to Mr. Praie, 
 who seemed unable to get along without him, I man- 
 aged to do so easily. I wondered that the detectives 
 remained at Braithe (the policeman from Hilltown 
 had gone home), but they hung about the house, as 
 idle a pair of men as one might see. Mr. Praie spent 
 most of his time burning incense under Herbert's 
 handsome nose. And, although Herbert showed 
 openly that he found the little man in the way, I 
 could see that the detective's flattery pleased him. 
 
 I was in my oratory that afternoon when there came 
 a peremptory tap on the panel, and, sliding it aside 
 before I could rise from my knees, Lilian entered. I 
 stared at her in surprise, for she was already dressed 
 for dinner, and in a wonderful toilet, considering that, 
 save for Herbert and the two detectives, we were quite 
 alone. She wore a gown of exquisite white lace, over 
 pale lilac. Around her slender waist a belt of shim- 
 mering lilac satin ribbon, with long streamers. In 
 one hand she carried three red roses; in the other her 
 fetich, the little New Testament bound in red morocco. 
 
 In spite of her becoming frock, she did not look so 
 pretty as usual. Her cheeks were very pale, and her 
 eyelids red and swollen. Because of this, and of her 
 having entered my sanctum uninvited, the sight of 
 the fetich alarmed me. I had not been sworn to 
 secrecy in several weeks, and I wondered what trouble 
 was a-f oot. 
 
 "Come out of this dismal hole, Theo," she said, 
 imperiously. "But no, stay where you are, on your 
 knees before the cross, and swear that you'll never 
 breathe to a soul what I'm going to tell you." 
 
 298
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 As she spoke her eyes filled with tears, and, al- 
 though I knew these to be but tears of self pity 
 Lilian wept over her own sorrows only I remained 
 kneeling upon my prie-dieu as she desired. Her 
 trouble was real enough to her. 
 
 "You needn't be afraid," she went on, "for the 
 grocer and the brat aren't in it Now then 
 swear." 
 
 I took my oath. 
 
 "I don't believe you care for me one bit," she whim- 
 pered, as we entered my dressing-room. "I don't be- 
 lieve you'd even dress for dinner to please me ; or have 
 that beast of a dog stay with Jane to-night, so that I 
 can talk things over with you in peace without his 
 racketing about!" 
 
 In order to quiet her nerves, I let her choose my 
 gown, and promised that Charles Stuart should be ab- 
 sent for the night. I was surprised when, after toss- 
 ing over all my frocks, she selected one of black satin 
 that she had always disliked. It was very simply 
 made, the only trimming being a fall of rich black 
 lace around the low corsage. 
 
 "I thought you " I began, but she interrupted me 
 hastily. 
 
 "Yes, I know, but Etienne hates to see you in black, 
 and I want a real proof of your affection. Besides, 
 this shining stuff is becoming, and black throws up 
 the whiteness of your shoulders. The long train 
 suits you, too. Tell Josette to dress your hair low, 
 and to stick one of these roses in it; wear the others 
 high up on your corsage, so that they rest against your 
 velvety skin " 
 
 "O Lilian!" I remonstrated. 
 
 "They make it look like snow I heard someone 
 say so," she said, looking at me oddly. "And be sure 
 that you tie a narrow band of black velvet around your 
 throat to increase the snow effect." 
 
 299
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I frowned, indignant; but before I could speak, she 
 flung her arms about me, and kissed my cheek. 
 
 "I'm in such trouble," she whispered, "such awful 
 trouble, Theo ! but you'll pull me through." 
 
 "If I can," I said, gently, although no longer antici- 
 pating anything serious, since she could spare so much 
 thought on a trifle like dress. "Is it about Mr. Car- 
 rington ?" I hazarded. 
 
 "Yes," she sobbed, "and unless you or the Death 
 Coach help me out, I might better not have been 
 born." 
 
 "The Death Coach?" I repeated. "I wish you'd 
 forget that nonsense, Lilian." 
 
 She drew back, staring at me strangely. 
 
 "Before the clock strikes twelve to-night," she said, 
 in an awed whisper, "a Braithe will die." She stepped 
 forward, and grasping my arm, drew me into the little 
 cell we had just left; then, pointing to the ivory cross, 
 she continued, solemnly, "If, by midnight, a new devil 
 has been added to the legions in hell, I will believe in 
 that emblem and all that it stands for." And before 
 I could speak, could say a word in remonstrance, she 
 ran lightly away. 
 
 Her allusion to the Phantom Coach told me that 
 Herbert was at the bottom of her trouble, and I feared 
 that he must have managed to interfere seriously be- 
 tween her and Mr. Carrington. How he had contrived 
 to bring her into such a state of subjection I could not 
 imagine, rack my brains as I might; but I felt very 
 much ashamed of my own cowardice in not having 
 told Etienne of his mischief -making qualities. I tried 
 to make up my mind to tell just what I had but a few 
 hours before decided to keep to myself; but, as I was 
 putting the roses Lilian had given me into water, she 
 hastily re-entered the room and unconsciously vetoed 
 my good intentions. She still had the Testament in 
 her hand, and held it out toward me as she said: 
 
 300
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Swear that you won't tell Etienne anything not 
 even about wearing that gown to please me." 
 
 I refused to take my oath again, but consented to 
 keeping even that trifle a secret. 
 
 "I want you to meet me here at ten sharp, Theo." 
 
 "Very well, Lilian," I said, resignedly. 
 
 "You won't let Rappelle keep you late in the 
 library? Don't tell him I want you. Swear you 
 won't, Theo!" 
 
 Her lips had grown suddenly ashen; she looked ill. 
 I hastened to give my promise to do all I could for 
 her, and her pretty color swept back; she even smiled 
 as she left the room. 
 
 "One in the eye for the grocer this time!" she called 
 back, softly, over her shoulder, and again I felt that 
 I had been unnecessarily alarmed. 
 
 Herbert was standing at the foot of the staircase 
 when I went down to dinner. I paused, looking 
 doubtfully at him, when I reached the lowest step, my 
 hand upon the head of the Leopard that, erect upon 
 its haunches, the family shield clasped close to its 
 breast, served as newel post. He surveyed me as 
 closely, and smiled sadly, as if what he saw pleased, 
 yet hurt him. 
 
 "Theo," he said, gravely, "I've been hoping for a 
 word with you all day, but you have I fear purposely 
 avoided me. I want to ask your forgiveness. I 
 have behaved shamefully. I beg your pardon." 
 
 He spoke with great earnestness; his voice, his atti- 
 tude, expressed deep contrition. I was almost con- 
 vinced that he meant what he said. 
 
 "You don't believe me, I see," he continued, com- 
 ing close to the mahogany Leopard, and dropping his 
 voice to a mere whisper, "but you may. I am going 
 away from here very soon, only I beg that you will not 
 tell anyone; Praie insists upon my seeing this affair 
 out you understand?" 
 
 301
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I nodded. I thought I did. 
 
 "I won't pretend I don't care for you," he went on, 
 "for I do, but I've made up my mind to do the only 
 thing that's left for me I'll leave Braithe." 
 
 I remained silent, not knowing what to say. 
 
 "I shall never forget you as you look now, standing 
 on the dear old staircase, in your trailing satin, with 
 those red roses on your breast " He broke off as 
 though something choked him, and, in spite of my- 
 self, I began to make allowances. 
 
 I thought of his untrained boyhood, the lack of good 
 counsel, and of his Braithe blood urging him toward 
 evil. I remembered how hard it must have been for 
 him to return to the old home he so loved, and see it in 
 the possession of a stranger and that stranger the 
 descendant of a former servant of the House. Then 
 I suddenly realized how little I had done to make 
 things easier for him, too much absorbed in my own 
 affairs to trouble myself about my cousin's. I ought 
 to have interested myself in his life how shamefully 
 ignorant of his past I was to have given him the Tielp 
 that women owe to their near kinsmen; but I had 
 thought only of myself -and of Etienne. 
 
 In short, I became so busy upbraiding myself, that I 
 began to think that I was the most in fault. "I am so 
 sorry, Bertie," I faltered, the old nickname slipping 
 unconsciously from my lips. "I'm afraid that I've 
 not made your visit what it should have been. I've 
 been thoughtless, selfish " 
 
 "Hush, Theo," he said, softly; "I can't let you talk 
 such nonsense as that ! If you'll just say you forgive 
 me " 
 
 "I do," I cried, hastily; "I forgive you with all my 
 heart." 
 
 He bent his head and kissed the hand on the 
 Leopard. 
 
 "I've even been unjust to Rappelle," he said, his 
 302
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 eyes upon the ruby that glowed upon my finger, "pre- 
 tending to myself that he treated you meanly, when 
 that ring alone would prove me in the wrong." 
 
 I thought that he had chosen a poor place as con- 
 fessional, at the foot of the staircase in the central 
 hall, and so went on to the drawing-room, which I 
 knew must be empty. 
 
 "It is a beautiful ruby," I said, pausing in front of 
 the fireplace over which hung my portrait, with the 
 miniature of the Scotch countess, as pendant, "as 
 handsome of its kind as the Gypsy's Opal," and I 
 sighed. 
 
 "A pigeon-blood ruby, a remarkably fine one," 
 Herbert continued, meditatively. "It must have 
 cost a small fortune. Do you miss your opal, 
 Theo?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, shortly. I did not care to talk about 
 its loss. 
 
 "I've made poor Lilian's life a burden over it," he 
 went on, "and I'm sorry. Indeed, I've worried her 
 too much lately, but I'll make it up to her if you'll 
 help me, Theo?" 
 
 "Help you, Herbert?" I said, surprised. "I don't 
 see how I can help you with Lilian, but in any other 
 way, should you need help, I will give it gladly." 
 
 "Thank you, Theodora Gift of God!" he said, 
 gently. "I believe there's no mean Braithe blood in 
 you. Lydia used to say that you were the reincarna- 
 tion of your double there," he pointed at the mina- 
 ture, "and I half believe she was right. When you 
 struck me with your fan yesterday " 
 
 "O Herbert!" I cried, in remonstrance. 
 
 "I thought of Lydia," he went on, not heeding my 
 effort to stop him, "thought of her so suddenly, and 
 intensely, it almost seemed as though she looked at 
 me over your shoulder." He laughed oddly. "I 
 felt uncanny for a minute," he said, "as if you and 
 
 303
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 the countess were one and that Lydia had come to 
 tell me so!" 
 
 "Listen!" I cried, interrupting him. "Do I hear 
 wheels? It must be Etienne," and I moved toward 
 the door. 
 
 "One moment, Theo," said Herbert, hastily. 
 "Don't speak of my going, even to Rappelle, please." 
 
 I nodded, to show that I understood, and running 
 into the hall, greeted Etienne as he entered. His 
 stern face grew bright with pleasure at sight of me. 
 
 "You look like a gay Spanish girl, with that red 
 rose in your dark hair," he said, smiling. "Come into 
 the library and see what I've brought you from town." 
 
 He put a jewel box in my hands when the doors 
 were closed behind us, and watched me, as one watches 
 a child receiving a new toy, while I opened it and 
 cried out in delight over what I found there. 
 
 "How lovely!" I exclaimed, taking out a sparkling 
 diamond heart and looking at it admiringly. "How 
 kind of you to get it for me but how extravagant!" 
 
 "Nonsense!" he said, gayly. "If I may not buy 
 my wife baubles, I shall think myself hardly used. 
 May I clasp it around your throat?" He took the 
 slender chain, adjusted and fastened it then I felt 
 his lips upon my shoulder. I turned quickly, paling, 
 my heart beating wildly. "I beg your pardon," he 
 said, slowly. "I thought I had more self-control." 
 
 He looked at me steadily, but his face was as color- 
 less as my own ; and I saw that he was greatly moved. 
 I held out both hands to him, laughing a little. 
 
 "O Etienne, Etienne!" I said, "I am not angry. 
 What a foolish man you are!" 
 
 He drew me to him, looking earnestly into my eyes, 
 as if he would read my inmost thoughts; but he did 
 not speak. 
 
 "I am so pleased with my new trinket," I said, 
 quickly. "You are too good to me, Etienne!" 
 
 304
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "Tell me why it pleases you better than anything 
 I have ever given you before?" he asked. "I can see 
 that it does." 
 
 I was very much embarrassed my heart was so 
 tiresome in its persistent, unaccountable throbbing 
 and I felt strangely shy a new sensation for me. 
 
 "Well, you know," I faltered, "we have grown such 
 great friends now, you and I." 
 
 He put his arm around me, and, placing a hand 
 under my chin, gently tilted my face upward, the bet- 
 ter to look into my eyes. But I let my eyelids fall. 
 
 "And before, I was a stranger, Theo?" 
 
 "Yes," I murmured. 
 
 "And, as such, my gifts annoyed you?" 
 
 "Yes, Etienne." 
 
 "You felt degraded when you wore them?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "O Etienne, please " 
 
 "Answer, Theo." 
 
 "Yes," I whispered, flushing and paling by turns 
 under this strange inquisition, and unable to find any 
 graceful words in which to clothe the unpleasant truth. 
 
 "You are glad that your jewels were stolen, child?" 
 
 "No, no," I said, hastily; "I miss them dreadfully, 
 Etienne." 
 
 His arm tightened around me I feared he might 
 feel the beating of my heart. "I am not your friend, 
 but your lover," he whispered. "Will you wear the 
 diamond heart?" 
 
 "Yes Etienne." 
 
 "Willingly, Theo?" 
 
 The power of speech left me. I glanced up at him 
 for one fleeting instant. 
 
 "I love you," he cried, with sudden passion. "I 
 love you with all my heart and soul!" And he kissed 
 me on the lips. 
 
 The door was gently opened on the merest crack, and 
 305
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BBAITHE 
 
 Hervey's voice, in melancholy cadences, floated 
 through it announcing dinner. 
 
 "Go dress for dinner, Etienne," I said, nervously. 
 "You will be very late." 
 
 Unwillingly, he released me. "Merle will soon be- 
 come my bete noir!" he said, with a humorous smile. 
 "I shan't see you again this evening, Theo, for those 
 men will want to talk to me after dinner." 
 
 "They have no fresh clue," I said, moving toward 
 the door. "Mr. Praie told Herbert so this morning. 
 I have asked them to dine with us, now our guests 
 have gone." 
 
 "Quite right, Theo," he said, approvingly; but I 
 knew that at that moment he would have approved as 
 heartily had I done the opposite. And I was happy 
 because of this. 
 
 Lilian's behavior at dinner increased my serenity of 
 mind, for she seemed to be on excellent terms with 
 Herbert; and I fancied that while I had been in the 
 library with Etienne he had made his peace with her. 
 She laid herself out to be agreeable to everyone; ad- 
 miring my diamond heart, and paying such flattering 
 attention to Mr. Praie and his colleague that their 
 heads appeared to be quite turned. 
 
 Etienne smiled at me from his place opposite ; Her- 
 bert treated me with the respectful consideration of 
 an affectionate cousin; Lilian's difficulties were, ap- 
 parently, at an end. I was so happy, so very, very 
 happy, that I felt a trifle awed. From childhood I 
 had been unaccustomed to such a feeling. The ease 
 of heart that comes from a peaceful home environ- 
 ment had never been mine. As I sat silent, too happy 
 for speech, Mr. Praie suddenly addressed me. 
 
 "I got a line from that palmist feller to-day, Mrs. 
 Rappelle, saying he hopes the scarf has pleased the 
 person for whom it was intended." I looked at the 
 little man inquiringly. "He meant it for you," Mr. 
 
 306
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Praie continued, nodding his head at me ; "said so in 
 his letter. I'm glad to be rid of it; too strong of 
 sandal- wood for me ! Your wife must keep it now," 
 he turned to Etienne, "mustn't she, sir?" 
 
 "I think she will be glad to," was the smiling an- 
 swer. 
 
 I was pleased, but I wondered a little over the 
 palmist's strange ways. He must have left Braithe 
 that same evening, Saturday evening, I thought. I 
 asked Etienne if this were so. He looked at me oddly 
 for an instant, but Mr. Praie replied before he had 
 time to answer. 
 
 "Off at once after the seeance," he said, cheer- 
 fully, "but where he is now, Lord knows! No date 
 to his letter, and postmark too blurred to read. He's 
 a queer lot, that feller; but mighty sharp, I can tell 
 you!" 
 
 "Not a patch on you, Praie!" said Herbert, all 
 irony carefully kept from his voice, his eyes cast down. 
 
 "By the side of that palmist feller," said Mr. Praie, 
 with sudden gravity, "I'm the veriest fool alive." 
 
 As I rose to leave the room it was the little detective 
 who got first to the door, and bowed me out as though 
 I had been a queen. I smiled at him kindly ; I liked 
 him very much, because of his good heart. When the 
 men came into the drawing-room later, he chose to 
 sit near me. 
 
 "The moon has left us," I said, lightly, "and to- 
 night even the stars have disappeared, so drinking our 
 coffee on the portico is not to be thought of yet it 
 is far pleasanter out there." I rose and stepped 
 through the long window nearest me as I spoke. 
 
 It was as I had said; the stars were blotted out by 
 heavy vapor, while across the river occasional flashes 
 of heat-lightning against the horizon line made the 
 gloom that followed but the deeper. The night, like 
 the day, was hot and muggy. I was glad of my low- 
 
 307
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 cut bodice, and wished that Lilian had chosen a thinner 
 evening gown for me. I sank into a low chair near 
 the edge of the portico, and began to fan myself 
 slowly. Then, as the scent of sandal-wood floated 
 from the palmist's gift, I remembered Mr. Praie'9 
 dislike of the odor, and furled it gently. 
 
 "You never forget other people's tastes or feel- 
 ings, Mrs. Rappelle," he said, soberly. "And you 
 may bet your life that some of us will take care that 
 yours are remembered! There's going to be a big 
 storm before the night is over see that lightning 
 yonder? and may I be awake to see!" 
 
 308
 
 XXVH 
 
 I would gladly have lingered late on the portico, as 
 Braithe House promised to be too hot for comfort that 
 night, notwithstanding the thickness of its old stone 
 walls, the height of its ceilings, and the size of its rooms. 
 But, remembering my promise to Lilian, I said good- 
 night when the clock struck ten, and went upstairs. 
 Although convinced that her trouble was at an end, 
 since she and Herbert seemed to be on friendly terms 
 at last, I hoped that she might still have something to 
 confide. I wanted to hear of the happy ending of her 
 love story to learn that she was about to become en- 
 gaged to my favorite, Mr. Carrington. 
 
 She left the drawing-room with me and followed 
 me, in silence, up the staircase to my dressing-room 
 door. 
 
 "Send Josette away," she whispered, pausing at 
 the threshold. "Tell her you won't want her to-night 
 that's she not to hang around. Make her under- 
 stand this, Theo." 
 
 I looked at her in pained surprise, for her face was 
 drawn and haggard. Her pretty smiles, and the air 
 of girlish light-heartedness, of careless gayety, that 
 she had worn at dinner, had vanished. 
 
 "Is something still the matter?" I asked, anxiously. 
 "I thought that you and Herbert were on good terms 
 again, that " 
 
 "Theo Braithe," she interrupted, in a fierce under- 
 tone, "you're by turns the cleverest and the most 
 idiotic woman alive! Come to my room in half an 
 hour, do you hear? Send Josette away for the night, 
 
 309
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 and come just as you are. Do you understand? Yes? 
 If you didn't want to be up to your neck in misery, 
 why did you kill that spider this morning? I begged 
 you not!" And she swept away to her room. 
 
 I did as she wished, dismissing my little maid, and 
 waiting the required half hour. When this had 
 elapsed, I went, with lagging steps, along the gallery, 
 ashamed of my unwillingness to listen to what I be- 
 lieved would prove to be but a fretful outburst of 
 childish complaints. Upon entering her room, I 
 found that she had already exchanged her costly toilet 
 for a white peignoir, and her pretty fair hair rippled 
 over her shoulders. She closed and locked the door 
 carefully after me, and led me to the lounge at the 
 foot of the bed, well in the centre of the room. 
 
 "There's one thing I want to say first," she began, 
 speaking beneath her breath, as though in fear of be- 
 ing overheard, "and that is that I won't be reproached 
 and vituperated. What's done is done, and I can't 
 help it. I'm in awful trouble." The corners of her 
 pretty mouth turned down, she looked very childish 
 and helpless. "Carrington has proposed." 
 
 "Lilian !" I exclaimed, smiling and much relieved. 
 "Is that all? What a foolish girl you are ! I thought 
 you liked him so much. Have you changed your 
 mind?" 
 
 "Like him?" she cried, fiercely, "why, you fool, I 
 love him like, indeed!" 
 
 "Then what are you fretting over?" I demanded. 
 "He is a charming fellow why not say yes at once? 
 I congratulate you, dear." I took her hand and 
 would have kissed her, but she pushed me away, and, 
 springing to her feet, began to pace the floor. And 
 as I watched her lithe, free movements, I thought of 
 the Leopards of the House. 
 
 "Say yes?" she repeated, in a passionate undertone, 
 pouring out her words as though they had been pent 
 
 310
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 up for months, and now escaped her fevered lips 
 almost without her volition. "Say yes at once? I 
 wish to God I might. I did almost as much, for I 
 asked for two weeks to think it over! Like an idiot 
 I counted on the Death Coach to pull me through. 
 In three days, I thought, in only three days' time I 
 shall know who is summoned; perhaps I myself," she 
 shuddered, "and perhaps that devil ! But I reckoned 
 without thought of his cunning; I might have known 
 he'd manage to use me up to the very last " 
 
 "Who, Lilian?" I asked, interrupting. "Whom do 
 you fear?" 
 
 "Who, you fool?" she echoed, passionately. "Her- 
 bert Fayne, of course." 
 
 "I'm tired of this nonsense," I said, severely. "I 
 can't understand why Herbert is of any importance to 
 you. Why do you allow him to interfere between you 
 and Mr. Carrington. He is nothing but a cousin " 
 
 She held up her hand, imposing silence. She came 
 close to me. "I am his wife," she said. 
 
 I broke the long stillness that fell upon the room 
 with no questions. Before many seconds had passed, 
 I felt that I had known this blighting secret for a 
 dreary length of years. At last Lilian spoke again: 
 
 "It was all the fault of that old wretch who played 
 fast and loose with us," she said, and I knew that she 
 alluded to her great-uncle. "He swore at first that 
 Bertie should have the money, because he was the 
 grandson of his friend. And then that I must, be- 
 cause I was his grand-niece. By and by Herbert sug- 
 gested that we might marry (he knew a lawyer who'd 
 do it for him on the sly), and so both get the fortune. 
 We did and lost." 
 
 I roused myself from the mental inertia that had 
 settled upon me like an evil mist. This dreadful 
 revelation, following so swiftly upon the hour of my 
 happiness, had deadened all my senses. I was the 
 
 311
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 eldest; I must be the one to rid Lilian of her self- 
 inflicted burden. It was for me to act. 
 
 "Take courage, Lilian," I said, and my voice had 
 an odd, weary inflection, despite my effort to speak 
 cheeringly. "Herbert will release you; and Carring- 
 ton, knowing that you were under age, and that it was 
 no real marriage, only a legal ceremony " I hesi- 
 tated, my words died upon my lips. For again she 
 had paused in her walk, close before me ; and her ex- 
 pression was so strange that it shocked me into 
 silence. 
 
 "Legal ceremony no real marriage!" she repeated, 
 sneering contempt vibrating in every tone of her sweet 
 voice. "For Heaven's sake, don't talk that rot to me ! 
 I'm sick of him, and I hate him like poison, but I was 
 half in love with him then, and willing enough to be 
 his wife. All the girls wanted him, and I got him 
 and I wish to the Lord he'd died first ! There, there's 
 nothing to be shocked about I don't mean to make a 
 row getting a divorce. All I ask is to be allowed to 
 destroy that hateful certificate and my silly letters 
 and have Herbert let me alone. Then it will all be as 
 if it had never happened, and I can marry Carring- 
 ton, and be happy!" 
 
 She looked so like the portrait of the Lady Sophia 
 as she spoke, so hard and cold, so brazen even, that, 
 remembering the wicked career of our common ances- 
 tress, and realizing that my fair-haired sister was be- 
 ginning already to follow in her footsteps, I was over- 
 powered by a feeling of repulsion, of disgust. I rose, 
 and going to the window leaned out into the night. 
 I longed for a sight of the heavens; for a breath of 
 pure air in my face ; Lilian's confession had, somehow, 
 tainted even the atmosphere of the room. But there 
 was no night breeze bringing refreshment, no cheer- 
 ing sparkle of stars; instead, a pall-like blackness 
 over everything, and a deadness in the air that stifled 
 
 312
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 me. Suddenly, as I gazed into nothingness, the 
 gloom outside was dissipated by a flash of heat-light- 
 ning; the pale, uncanny flare illuminating the broad 
 lawn with its elms and sycamores, and showing me the 
 figure of a man lurking near the great tulip tree op- 
 posite the window. I turned back into the room. 
 
 "There is someone on the lawn, just across the road, 
 under the tulip tree, Lilian," I said, softly. "Does 
 Herbert know what you are doing?" 
 
 Before I had finished speaking she had gripped my 
 arm nervously, gasping, "My God! have they come 
 already ?" 
 
 "Who, Lilian?" I asked. But without stopping to 
 answer, she dragged me back to the window, and stood 
 peering out, with frightened eyes. 
 
 "The air is damp," she said, in high, unnatural 
 tones, as though wishing 1 to be overheard ; "I'll draw 
 in the blinds." And she leaned from the window. 
 
 Again the lightning, playing along the horizon, 
 made every object visible; the stretch of lawn, the 
 Leopards of the gate, the lines of locust trees beyond. 
 But the man was nowhere to be seen. Lilian closed 
 the blinds softly, then turned an ashen face toward 
 me. 
 
 "Could it have been Herbert himself?" she said. 
 "But no, he dare not leave the house " 
 
 "Why not?" I interrupted. 
 
 "The police," she whispered. "He was warned 
 this morning. Oh, why do you stare at me like that, 
 as if you'd lost your wits, Theo Braithe ?" 
 
 "Lilian," I began, imperiously, though my lips 
 trembled. But she drew me from the window before 
 I could speak further. 
 
 "Listen," she said, softly, "and, for God's sake, 
 don't faint, or lose your nerve. They're after Her- 
 bert, and he's got to get away, and you'll have to 
 manage it. Don't look as if you didn't understand 1 
 
 313
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Through the By-Ways. You are the one who holds 
 their secrets. You are the Head." 
 
 "What has he done?" I asked. My lips felt sud- 
 denly parched, I spoke with an effort; for I knew 
 that whatever it might be, I must, as Lilian had said, 
 help him. It was only by helping him that I might 
 hope to protect her. 
 
 "I told him that he needn't count upon you," Lilian 
 continued, paying no attention to my question, "for 
 that you thought the old traditions nonsense. But he 
 said they'd hold you now. He was in a tight place, 
 he said, and you'd show your blood and pull him 
 through." 
 
 "What has he done?" I repeated, coldly. 
 
 "Forged stolen done everything he shouldn't, 
 the selfish wretch!" 
 
 "Forged stolen," I said, faintly, "O Lilian!" 
 
 "He says if you'll get him out of Braithe before 
 midnight," she went on, "he'll give me my marriage 
 certificate I let him keep it, like a fool and all my 
 letters (I wrote him silly love-sick ones, at first), and 
 never trouble me any more. But" she paused a 
 moment, looking like a wild thing at bay "if he's 
 caught, he'll clamor for me. And my letters will 
 be published in every yellow journal in the country! 
 Theo," she flung herself at my feet in an agony of 
 fear, "Theo, help me! Don't let Carrington hear! 
 He will will despise me. O Theo, Theo, I wish Her- 
 bert was dead!" 
 
 I could not speak; despair had made me dumb. 
 For I thought of Etienne, to whom dishonor was 
 brought so near, because of me. His wife's first cousin 
 a forger, a thief! Yes, Herbert must escape; must 
 carry his dreadful secret away with him, and but 
 no, he could not take it from Lilian, or me. We must 
 keep it always; must lie down with it, get up with it, 
 feel it upon our hearts forever! I sighed heavily, the 
 
 314
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 burden of it already weighed me down. Tears had 
 come to Lilian, bringing relief; she began to speak 
 more quietly. 
 
 "If you'd had the sense to read the letter father left 
 for you, you'd have been able to help me before. 
 That told me of Herbert's having forged. It was his 
 forgery that cut him out of uncle's will and my 
 marrying him that ruined me. The old man found 
 out everything and told father." 
 
 She ceased speaking, absorbed in her bitter mem- 
 ories. And I, I knew at last why Braithe House had 
 been closed to my father's once favorite. 
 
 "Herbert's a fool," Lilian recommenced, "for he 
 was doing well enough for him earning his living, 
 at least when his infernal vanity spoiled everything. 
 He was in with a lot of men who make counterfeit 
 money (he had something to do with passing it I 
 don't understand exactly, but it's a kind of business in 
 its nasty way), and was getting along fairly, when he 
 must needs ruin himself showing off at that fire. You 
 thought him brave and all that!" She laughed 
 sneeringly. "It made me sick to hear you all praising 
 him. Brave! Oh, yes. Letting women down out 
 of windows, and pocketing their jewels. As souvenirs 
 of the fire, I suppose!" 
 
 I sat silent, too sick at heart for words. 
 
 "His picture was put in the paper," Lilian went on, 
 "but how that helped to let the police into his counter- 
 feit money record, I don't know. He says they're 
 after him about that, not about the other and I'm 
 nearly dead, I am, with keeping his vile secrets, and 
 he tells me everything, yes, everything!" She again 
 began to pace up and down, up and down, like a caged 
 animal. "Yes," she stamped her foot in a controlled 
 fury that made every action, every word, more im- 
 pressive "and he's got the jewels those two fools 
 downstairs are after." 
 
 315
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 I sank down upon the couch, feeling too weak to 
 stand. 
 
 "Theo" she leaned close over me "he's got the 
 opal, too!" Her eyes flashed, the sweet rose-pink 
 flushed her pale cheeks, she clinched her small white 
 hands. "The Gypsy's Opal," she said, slowly, "so 
 sooner or later he's doomed." 
 
 "Where are the jewels now?" I asked, faintly. 
 "Has he them still?" 
 
 "He says that he didn't dare keep them here," was 
 the answer. "That he had to trust them to his con- 
 federate, Jim Wylde." 
 
 "Jim Wylde?" I exclaimed, a new horror of Her- 
 bert, in this discovery of his double villainy, sweeping 
 over me. "Is it Herbert who has ruined Jim Wylde ?" 
 And I knew that it must have been my old playfellow 
 whom I had seen, masked, in the chapel. 
 
 "Herbert's between two fires now," Lilian went on, 
 not heeding, "his old friends, the counterfeiters, and 
 the police. For if the old gang find out that he's 
 doing something on his own account, they'll make it 
 hot for him. There ! the clock is striking eleven, it's 
 time to go. Herbert is waiting for you now." 
 
 "Where?" I whispered. 
 
 "In your room. He said there must be some hid- 
 den door there. And in case the police came unex- 
 pectedly, they'd leave your room till the last. For 
 Heaven's sake, don't faint where's my vinaigrette ?" 
 
 But I pushed away the dainty bottle and rose. "I 
 am ready," I said, quietly. 
 
 "You are so awfully white, Theo! Are you sure 
 you can go through with it?" 
 
 "I must," I said. 
 
 "Make him give you my letters," she whispered, 
 vehemently, "before he leaves the house. And look, 
 yourself, to see if the certificate is there." 
 
 "Yes, Lilian." 
 
 316
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "And, Theo, just one thing more. You needn't be 
 afraid that he'll make love to you, for he won't. He's 
 only thinking of saving his own skin now. He said 
 himself you'd be a burden ; and that he was glad you 
 had had more sense than he about running away. I'll 
 go with you to your room; it may avert suspicion. 
 And I'll wait for my letters there." 
 
 As we went along the gallery the door of little 
 Jane's room opened softly, and the nurse came out. 
 "I was just coming for you Mrs. Rappelle," she 
 said. "Miss Janey can't sleep, and I think a glass 
 of warm milk may soothe her she had her supper 
 at six, you know. Will you please stop with her till 
 I come back ?" 
 
 Lilian sighed heavily. 
 
 "I'll go on to your dressing-room," she said. "Don't 
 be long." 
 
 Little Jane was in bed, the Chevalier stretched close 
 beside her. She looked so lovely as she lay there 
 her golden hair streaming in soft masses over the pil- 
 low, her big blue eyes bright with sleeplessness so 
 sweet and pure, that I, with my new knowledge of 
 evil, felt unfit to approach her. The Chevalier 
 thumped his tail gently, but did not offer to move. 
 Since he was allowed to sleep on the bed, he bore his 
 exile from my room with exemplary patience; but he 
 glanced at me and blinked his long brown eyes with 
 an air of hypocritical resignation. 
 
 "Funny old Charles Stuart!" said the child, smiling. 
 "He's really a Pretender, isn't he, Theo? Come, 
 kneel down, and put your head here," she patted the 
 pillow softly, "close, close to mine. Ah, how sweet 
 your roses smell ! Mustn't crush them, no. Let me 
 kiss you," lifting the flowers, "under the rose. But 
 I'm not quite sure I like them there to-night; they 
 make me think of blood. Yes, Theo, blood upon 
 your breast." 
 
 317
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "I'll take them off, pet," I said, quickly. 
 "~No" said little Jane, "leave them. I've nice 
 thoughts coming now. You are a lily, Theo. 
 
 * Queen lily and rose in one.' 
 
 See, your soft neck is as white as a lily; and the rose, 
 leaves lying there make lily and rose in one." 
 
 "Fanciful little sister!" I said, caressingly. 
 
 "Yes, that's true," said the child, "and I'm sorry. 
 My mind is as queer as my back, Theo." 
 
 "What makes you so wakeful, pussy?" I asked, 
 anxious to change the trend of her thoughts. 
 
 "It's that awful Portent," she whispered, flushing 
 feverishly. "The three days end at midnight who 
 will mount the Coach ?" 
 
 "My darling," I cried, clasping her close, "my fool- 
 ish little Jane! How can you worry so over that 
 nonsensical old superstition?" 
 
 "It ought to be me," the child went on, not heed- 
 ing, "for I'm sickly; or Lilian, for she's no good; but I 
 believe it's coming for the Flower of the House. And 
 I'm most crazy thinking about it! No, don't inter- 
 rupt me, or I'll begin to cry. Talking corks up the 
 tears, somehow. If you were afraid of anything, 
 you'd think religious thoughts, and get soothed down. 
 But I can't. Religion to you is like a great tall 
 tree; and you climb up among the topmost branches, 
 and listen to the leaves rustle and the birds sing, and 
 forget your worries. Yes, a tree," she continued, 
 dreamily, "a magnolia tree full of white flowers. 
 Do you remember ours, last spring, how lovely 
 it looked? An oriole came one day and flashed 
 in and out among the big white cups you said 
 it was drinking perfume from them. Religion is like 
 the magnolia tree, to you. Yes, and you're like that 
 oriole ! You said it looked like a living jewel such 
 
 318
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 pretty words, Theo! and that's what you're like, a 
 live jewel; a beautiful, glowing gem." 
 
 "And you are my jewel," I said, fondly, kissing 
 her, "and my bright little bird, as well. You and I, 
 pet, will find comfort together and strength, and 
 sustaining thoughts, in the beautiful Tree that shelters 
 all." 
 
 "If it only weren't for the Deluge !" burst out poor 
 little Jane, in a sudden wail of despair, "that awful, 
 awful Deluge, I might. But it washes away the roots 
 of the Tree, for me. To start a lot of people and 
 then, because some of them were wicked, to Deluge 
 them all to death ! Yes, all. Innocent children and 
 babies, along with the bad men and women! Now 
 don't contradict me, Theo, for I know all about it. 
 I've seen pictures of the Deluge and they've given 
 me the crawling creeps. And He saved that ridicu- 
 lous old Noah, with his Shem, Ham and Japhet; yet 
 allows college boys to make rude songs about them! 
 College boys don't get Deluged away for poking fun 
 at the Ark and why not? But the ways of the 
 Creator are hard to understand." 
 
 "Don't try to understand, my darling," I said, 
 gently, "just believe in His goodness, His wisdom. 
 Put your trust in Him and have faith." 
 
 "I don't like to hurt you, Theo," said the child, 
 patting my cheek, "and I can believe in everything 
 lovely, when you hold me close. Pretty, pretty dia- 
 mond heart!" She kissed my trinket. "Etienne's 
 heart, Theo, yet your very own. Oh, here's nurse 
 with my milk! Will you sing to me a little, before 
 you go?" 
 
 Kneeling beside her bed, I chanted the beautiful 
 old psalm, Qui habitat. 
 
 "Whoso dwelleth under the defence of the 
 Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the 
 Almighty." 
 
 319
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 The child settled down among her pillows, and 
 closed her eyes. As I softly chanted the fifth verse, 
 beginning: "Thou shalt not be afraid for any terror by 
 night," her gentle breathing told me that sleep had 
 come, to banish all her fears. I stole quietly away. 
 
 320
 
 xxvin 
 
 I went swiftly to the door of my dressing-room; 
 then paused, striving for the composure of heart and 
 soul that could alone carry me through the coming 
 ordeal. My mind was full of resentment toward the 
 two who, under the guise of affection, had but striven 
 to accomplish their own selfish ends. Lilian's choice 
 of the black satin was only a precaution against the 
 tell-tale dust, or damp, of the By-Ways; her gift of 
 the red roses, a signal to Herbert that I had sworn to 
 keep her secrets and his. She had not needed to 
 assure me of the death of Herbert's so-called love 
 for me. The remembrance of his appeal for help 
 disguised by how many flowers of speech! of hia 
 announcement of his speedy departure ; of his graceful 
 self-reproaches, and affected desire for forgiveness; all 
 told me that his ephemeral passion was gone. Yet, be- 
 cause I knew him to be a criminal, and because I, by 
 aiding him to escape justice, became his accomplice, 
 the thought of being alone with him in the By- Ways 
 brought horror. . 
 
 I stood with my hand upon the knob of the door, 
 unable to find courage to turn it. 
 
 "Thou shalt not be afraid for any terror by night," 
 I repeated, under my breath and entered. 
 
 Lilian came forward quickly to meet me. "How 
 dared you keep me in agony so long?" she whispered, 
 fiercely. "I'm almost mad with waiting in suspense ! 
 He's in there" she pointed to the closed door of my 
 bedroom. "Go, for God's sake, and get him out of 
 the house!" 
 
 321
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 The large room was dimly lighted ; only one lamp 
 was burning, and that turned low. At first I thought 
 that Lilian was mistaken, that Herbert had not yet 
 come. But as I opened a secret cupboard, seeking 
 the lantern kept there always for those who must 
 travel the By-Ways, he stepped from behind the tall 
 cheval-glass. A remembrance of his admiration for 
 my ruby flashed across my mind. Before lifting, 
 with both hands, the heavy old-fashioned lantern, I 
 hastily slipped off the well-loved jewel, and left it in 
 safety behind. 
 
 I busied myself lighting the lantern, neither look- 
 ing at nor greeting the man who advanced slowly 
 toward me; yet I knew that he had changed his even- 
 ing suit for one of dark tweed, that he wore a shirt of 
 blue flannel, and that he carried a slouched hat in his 
 hand. In spite of my efforts to steady them, my 
 fingers trembled so that I could not accomplish my 
 task; and Herbert, taking the lantern from me, lighted 
 it himself. While he was thus occupied I unfastened 
 the chain from about my throat and, re-opening the 
 cupboard, placed the diamond heart beside my ring. 
 That, too, must remain mine. 
 
 "What a queer old thing!" said Herbert, turning 
 the lantern this way and that, the better to examine 
 the quaintly carved iron frame, surmounted by the 
 twin Leopards of Braithe. 
 
 The light through the thick, colored glass, cast a 
 purplish-red glimmer over everything about me, mak- 
 ing the familiar objects seem unreal, and flinging a 
 stain upon Herbert's handsome face. 
 
 I went quickly to the ponderous mahogany armoire 
 built against the wall, opened its door, and thrusting 
 my hand between the silks and velvets that hung 
 there, found and pressed a secret spring. The back 
 of the armoire gave way. I motioned to Herbert to 
 precede me. He did so; and I closed both outer and 
 
 322
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 inner door behind us, as we entered the By- Ways of 
 Braithe. 
 
 We stood upon a narrow ledge of stone at the top 
 of a steep flight of steps, that led sharply downward to 
 the basement of the house. These steps ran side by 
 side with the staircase that connected Etienne's bed- 
 room and dressing-room, and were so narrow, so 
 squeezed in between the walls, and so precipitous that 
 they were difficult of descent. 
 
 When I had been taken by Mr. Braithe through the 
 By- Ways, it had been a surprise to me to find them 
 both simple in construction and limited in extent. 
 Like the rest of the uninitiated, I had imagined that 
 the old walls of the house were fairly honey-combed 
 with secret passages ; while in reality these mysterious 
 hidden ways consisted, in all, but of two private exits. 
 Any good architect, or builder, could have readily 
 detected where the staircases leading to these were 
 placed. Why my great-great-great-grandfather had 
 had them made, I could not imagine ; since were they 
 exact copies of those in the English Braithe House he 
 could not have hoped, by means of them, to have 
 eluded his justly incensed brother. Theodore, as 
 Head of the Family, knew their secrets better than he. 
 But I doubted if he had been able to steal along with 
 its other valuables a chart of the English Manor. I 
 fancied that these hidden stairways had been planned, 
 and placed, by Vivian, more from a desire to have all 
 that his brother had than with any thought of putting 
 them to use. I knew that they had never served any 
 purpose good or ill in the time of the Kevolution. 
 Braithe House had never been occupied as headquar- 
 ters by either the British or our own people. 
 
 Herbert glanced about him curiously. I forced my- 
 self to speak. 
 
 "There are two exits," I said, coldly. "One just 
 below; one under the portico. Pray choose." 
 
 323
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "The one under the portico, please, Theo," he an- 
 swered, quietly. "I want to get to the boat-house 
 if I can." 
 
 He took off his coat, throwing it across his arm, and 
 slipping the ring of the lantern over his wrist, began 
 the descent. 
 
 As I followed I noted, with fresh repulsion, how 
 carefully he braced his hands against the walls as he 
 moved slowly downward, knowing that this was done 
 for me. Did my foot slip I should fall against him, 
 and thus avoid injury. Since he had chosen to ally 
 himself with the scum of the earth, it would have 
 pleased me better had he treated me as, I suppose, 
 such creatures do treat women. This survival of his 
 early training, of the manners that had come to him 
 with his gentle birth, disgusted me. His care for my 
 physical well-being, when he was doing such cruel 
 wrong to my heart and soul, shocked every finer feel- 
 ing within me. 
 
 It was hot to suffocation between the thick walls 
 on that stifling July night. Yet as I crawled stealth- 
 ily like a guilty thing past Etienne's room, I shiv- 
 ered as with a chill; so cold was my heart with the 
 dread of discovery. I dared not think of the morrow, 
 when I must meet him; dared not allow my imagina- 
 tion to conjure up the scenes that must follow this 
 night flight. The questions that would assuredly be 
 asked the lies that I must tell and act. No, I forced 
 my mind to concentrate itself upon the need of the 
 moment. I must think only of getting Herbert away ; 
 must face each emergency, fight each danger, as it 
 came and not look forward. 
 
 The ladder-like stairs turned where those leading to 
 Etienne's room ended, and a second sharp flight took 
 us to the lowest story. Under the library and draw- 
 ing-room were the cellars of the house, while the rest 
 of the basement held the kitchen and servants' offices. 
 
 324
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 Herbert looked on with keen interest while I slipped 
 aside the heavy bolt of the door leading into the cellar, 
 and, opening it cautiously, stepped through. When 
 closed behind us this door was not visible; its heavy 
 woodwork having been carefully incrusted with bite 
 of stone, it could not be distinguished from the wall of 
 which it formed a part. The air of the cellar was 
 damp, and again I shivered. Before I could prevent 
 him, Herbert had flung his coat over my shoulders, 
 and buttoned it at my throat. 
 
 "Don't waste time taking it off, Theo," he said, 
 quickly, as I would have removed it. "I shan't go a 
 step further till you consent to keep it on." 
 
 Realizing the futility of remonstrance, of any effort 
 on my part, I submitted; although the touch of the 
 coat was repulsive to me, since it was his. As I moved 
 on hastily the more hastily because of this fresh in- 
 dignity that I must endure I became conscious that 
 the coat was fragrant with the scent of sandal-wood, 
 and wondered why. 
 
 Keeping as near the east wall as possible, I hurried 
 on. Herbert still carried the lantern and, utilizing 
 his soft hat as a screen, so managed that its dull red 
 rays shone out in front alone. It was necessary to 
 enter the wine cellar in order to reach the exit under 
 the portico; and as I sought and found the key hid- 
 den away for those who used the By- Ways, I thought 
 I heard something or someone moving in the large 
 cellar we had just left. At the same moment the 
 purplish-red light from the lantern disappeared, 
 showing that Herbert shared my alarm. I held 
 my breath, listening intently. But my heart 
 throbbed so painfully that I could hear nothing else. 
 What seemed an eternity passed. Then Herbert 
 spoke. 
 
 "A false alarm," he whispered. "Probably a rat 
 scrambling about. Courage, Theo ! we are quite safe." 
 
 325
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 And again the sullen rays from the lantern made 
 threatening shadows start into evil shapes. 
 
 With trembling fingers I unlocked the door of the 
 wine cellar, and, entering, closed and relocked it with 
 nervous haste. I was sick with terror. A feverish 
 heat ran through my veins, driving away the chill of 
 the moment before. Yet I dared not take Herbert's 
 coat from my shoulders. He now stood in the middle 
 of the cellar, holding the uncovered lantern high, and 
 gazing about him with an air of almost affectionate 
 interest. 
 
 "What a jolly old place it is !" he said, in an under- 
 tone; "uncle used to bring me down here and tell tales 
 of its past glories. This is just the light to see it in, 
 too. Looks as though it were aglow with the rich 
 Burgundy those shelves are groaning under. I 
 shouldn't mind a glass of Burgundy now. Hold on a 
 minute, Dolly! You shall have some, too. There's 
 a corkscrew in my knife." 
 
 "No, no," I whispered, vehemently, "you must not 
 stop." 
 
 I went quickly to one corner, pressed my way in be- 
 tween two casks, and, counting the stones of the wall 
 behind them, drew out the one that concealed the bolt 
 of the hidden door. "Come, Herbert," I commanded. 
 
 He followed unwillingly. We stood beneath the 
 portico, whose sides Old Vivian had had walled up in 
 order to gain this exit, for a door, like the two we 
 had already passed through, here led outward. When 
 I had made ready to open this, I felt that my task was 
 accomplished. My journey with Herbert was ended. 
 
 "Please give me the the letters," I whispered I 
 hated to mention them "and take this." I unbut- 
 toned his coat, but he caught my hand and stopped me, 
 before I could throw it off. 
 
 "Not yet," he said. "Keep it on till I see if the 
 coast is clear. The letters are in one of its pockets. 
 
 326
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 You don't believe me? There, look yourself." He 
 took a packet from a side pocket as he spoke, opened 
 it, and, holding up the lantern, showed me that it con- 
 tained the letters. I saw Lilian's handwriting upon 
 the envelopes. "Best make sure," he went on, with a 
 sneering smile. And, opening one, he drew out the 
 certificate of marriage. I was convinced. "If you'll 
 hold the end of this," he went on, taking a roll of rib- 
 bon from his pocket, "and play Ariadne to my Theseus, 
 I'll have a peep outside. Now, Theo," as I began to 
 object, "do be sensible! How can I find my way 
 back, in the dark? For you'll have to cover up the 
 lantern." Seeing that I still hesitated, he added, 
 speaking very gently, "I should hate to shoot on 
 sight, Dolly, but I must if there is no other way of 
 retreat open. I won't be taken alive." 
 
 This was the last straw. My overstrained nerves 
 almost gave way. It had never occurred to me that, 
 in order to make good his escape, Herbert would not 
 hesitate to commit murder. A deadly faintness came 
 over me. I fought it down. My nerves must not, 
 should not, fail me now, when the lives of others de- 
 pended upon me. Herbert spoke again. His voice 
 seemed to come from a great distance, yet I knew that 
 he stood close beside me. 
 
 "Will you hold the ribbon dear?" For answer I 
 put out a trembling hand. 
 
 "Let me wind it about your wrists, Dolly," he whis- 
 pered. "If you dropped it you might not be able to 
 find it in the dark." 
 
 I submitted, and in another moment was alone. 
 Now and again a pale glimmer, flashing through the 
 partially opened door, told me that the heat-lightning 
 was still at play. I stood motionless; waiting in 
 dumb anguish for the pistol shot that would tell me 
 that my worst fears were realized. What appeared 
 hours of agony passed. Then the ribbon jerked sud- 
 
 327
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 denly, and Herbert re-entered, closing the door behind 
 him, and uncovering the lantern. Its baleful light 
 gleamed upon a revolver that he thrust into his hip- 
 pocket, and showed me his smiling face. 
 
 "No go, Dolly!" he whispered, gayly, as he un- 
 wound the ribbon from my wrists. "We're not far 
 enough from the madding crowd. Praie is enjoying 
 the evening air on the path to the boat-house, and 
 there's a light in the library. We must try the north 
 side of the house; the trees grow thick there. It's just 
 like old times. I feel as though we were children 
 again, playing hide-and-seek!" He laughed softly, 
 as though delighting in the excitement of the hour; 
 and, as we retraced our steps through the cellars, he 
 led the way. The contrivances of Vivian were but 
 clumsy, easily managed affairs, to his quick-witted de- 
 scendant. 
 
 To the ignorant the cellar under the library ap- 
 peared to end where the great chimney of that room 
 had its foundation. But back of it there was here, as 
 above, a small room, at the foot of the secret stairs by 
 means of which Herbert and I had reached the cellar. 
 This we now entered. I had the dreadful feeling of 
 having already spent years in this vain attempt to rid 
 myself of my detested companion; a nightmare sensa- 
 tion of being obliged to remain shut away with him in 
 these gloomy By- Ways forever. 
 
 "What a close little place!" said Herbert, in a care- 
 fully lowered voice. "No means of ventilation that 
 I can see. I'm glad there's a bench; do sit down." 
 As he drew out his handkerchief to dust off the heavy 
 wooden settle the only piece of furniture the room 
 contained he paused, bent down, ran his finger along 
 the seat; then asked, quickly, when I had visited the 
 By- Ways last. "Have you been here very lately, 
 Theo?" 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 328
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "Since uncle died?" he persisted. 
 
 "No," I said, shortly. 
 
 "Then someone else has," he continued, speaking 
 slowly, "for the dust on this is very light. Does Rap- 
 pelle know the secrets of the House. 
 
 "Not to my knowledge," I replied. 
 
 "Someone knows them," said Herbert, musingly, 
 "and the question is who? But sit down, Dolly; 
 you are white from fatigue." 
 
 "No," I said, coldly, mounting the steps that led up 
 to the narrow door of exit, and preparing to draw its 
 bolt; "you had best go." 
 
 "Not yet," he answered, quickly; "I've changed my 
 mind. I'll give Praie a chance to get sleepy first. 
 There's time enough and I'm not anxious for a row." 
 
 He came to me, and, taking my unwilling hand in 
 his, drew me back to the bench. I dared not resist. 
 Etienne might already have entered his room, just 
 above us; and if, as Herbert suspected, he had mas- 
 tered Vivian's simple mysteries, our danger of being 
 discovered was great. 
 
 "I can see that Lilian has been poisoning your mind 
 against me," said Herbert, in a plaintive undertone, 
 as he sat down beside me. "How you can believe that 
 she has sufficient sense to judge anybody's actions, I 
 don't understand. Her mind is fairly eaten up with 
 selfishness and silly superstitions. Lilian is a fool!" 
 
 I sat silent, straining my ears for sounds in the room 
 overhead. There came a sullen mutter from without. 
 I started nervously. 
 
 "Only thunder, Dolly," said Herbert, reassuringly, 
 "and it's very far off. No storm is coming this way. 
 What did Lilian tell you about me ?" 
 
 "Everything," I answered, briefly, hoping that this 
 revelation of my knowledge of his evil deeds might 
 still his tongue. 
 
 "Just like her!" he ejaculated. "I might have 
 329
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 known she would. But I'm not so black as I am 
 painted, Dolly, I swear I'm not! Passing a little 
 counterfeit money isn't such a bad business as you 
 think. Shop-keepers, and such people, cheat so like 
 the devil that they ought to get let in for a few losses 
 once in a while, just to serve them out. As for the 
 jewels ah!" He ceased speaking, staring at my left 
 hand. "So you wouldn't trust me, Dora? I think 
 you might have spared me that Why," his care- 
 fully lowered voice vibrated as if with sudden excite- 
 ment, "your wedding-ring is gone. O Dolly !" 
 
 His eyes flashed, he watched me eagerly. I looked 
 at my hand. It was, indeed, quite bare. In my 
 hurry I had pulled off my wedding-ring along with 
 the ruby. Herbert turned his head away. 
 
 "It is time to go," he said, in a constrained tone, 
 pulling out his watch. "Twenty minutes of twelve." 
 
 This seemed almost incredible to me. Surely we 
 had been in these By- Ways for many hours! I 
 glanced over his shoulder. He had spoken truly it 
 was but twenty minutes of twelve. 
 
 "I must ask you to hold this again," Herbert went 
 on, "since I may have to come back." 
 
 "Come back ?" I echoed, faintly. 
 
 "Yes," he said, coldly, "but I don't expect to. Of 
 course, if you would rather I forced my way " I 
 held out my hand for the ribbon. "Both, please," he 
 whispered. "I must wind it around your wrists, as 
 before." 
 
 I submitted. Thank God the end was near. He 
 leaned down, his bent head between me and his busy 
 fingers. Suddenly I felt his arms about my waist. 
 
 "Herbert!" I exclaimed, in a fierce whisper. 
 
 "It's all right," he interrupted, and, before I well 
 knew what he was doing, he took something from one 
 of the pockets of the coat that still hung over my 
 shoulders and shook it out. 
 
 330
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 "The palmist's scarf!" I said, and would have 
 stretched out my hands for it. They refused to obey 
 me. Herbert had knotted the ribbon wound firmly 
 around my wrists about my waist. I was powerless. 
 Before I could cry out for aid, he had silenced my lips 
 with the silken scarf, binding it close across my 
 mouth. 
 
 The whole air was fragrant with sandal-wood, and 
 as I reeled, faint with the horror of my position, with 
 my desperate struggle for freedom, and for breath, 
 I seemed to be sinking into a sea of perfume. Her- 
 bert caught me, drew me down upon the bench, and, 
 his arm around me, began to fan me with the palmist's 
 gift, that still swung at my side. 
 
 "You can breathe perfectly, darling," he whispered, 
 tenderly, "if you'll just have the sense to realize it. 
 There, that's my own clever Dolly," as my breathing 
 grew less labored. "I knew you would not faint." 
 
 The fan swayed to and fro. The face of the Bud- 
 dha appeared from beneath the rippling surface of the 
 water. 
 
 "I shall take you with me, dear," murmured Her- 
 bert, "just as I have planned to do all along. I never 
 meant to leave Braithe alone, Dolly." 
 
 I glanced about me wildly. I prayed passionately 
 for discovery. I no longer cared to protect Lilian, or 
 to save Herbert from disgrace. I thought only of 
 myself. The ugly purplish-red glow from the lantern 
 swung high now, on a hook beside the door of exit 
 cast its hateful stain upon the stone walls of the narrow 
 room. I was so near Etienne yet shut away from 
 him, perhaps forever. As hope died, I thought I 
 heard someone moving in the tiny passage outside. 
 The faintest rustling, as if unaccustomed fingers were 
 trying very cautiously to press the spring of the 
 door. Did I imagine it, or did the heavy door move ? 
 
 "I took the jewels for you, dear." Herbert spoke 
 331
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 slowly as he made Ms strange defence. "It won't 
 hurt those people they're so rich. It will be an 
 amusement to them to buy new ones. I'll use the 
 gems to make you comfortable. We'll build a 
 Braithe House of our own some day, Dolly like 
 Vivian and Sophia. In another country Canada, 
 perhaps. I dare say he had to use a little gentle force 
 to persuade her to come here with him. Did you 
 throw away your wedding-ring as a sign to me that you 
 were ready ? I mean to believe so." 
 
 Was the door ajar? I stared at it until my over- 
 strained eyes blurred with the effort. I must rest 
 them to see the better. I looked at the fan. Her- 
 bert moved it slowly, languorously. The lilies of the 
 pond seemed swaying gently the full lips of the god 
 to curve in a dreamy smile. 
 
 "I made Lilian get your opal for me," continued 
 Herbert. "I was determined you shouldn't lose that. 
 I have it around my neck now. But it's time to go." 
 
 He crushed me to him suddenly, kissing my cheek. 
 As he released me, a lea^ from the roses on my breast 
 fell to the floor. 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaimed, "such tell-tales must be got 
 rid of." He lifted the coat, unpinned the roses, then 
 pressed his lips where their petals had lain. Where 
 my little sister's kisses had blessed me, his now 
 branded. And I felt as though I were going mad, in 
 my impotence in my awful despair. 
 
 He lifted his face at last white, even in the red 
 light of the lantern. "I can't understand why you 
 don't love me," he whispered, passionately, "when I 
 worship you so!" 
 
 He took the rose from my hair and thrust it, with 
 the others, into his breast. Then, still holding me 
 fast, drew me with him up the steps to the door, and 
 after extinguishing the light opened it, lifted me in 
 his arms, and carried me out into the night. 
 
 332
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 The atmosphere was still hot, oppressive; a death- 
 like hush was over everything, save when at long 
 intervals there came the dull rumble of distant thun- 
 der. The darkness was intense and Herbert paused, 
 uncertain of his path. Then a faint flash of lightning 
 made the shapely trunks of the surrounding sycamores 
 and tulip trees stand boldly out, and showed the grove 
 of arbor-vitse on the edge of the bank beyond. Be- 
 hind us loomed up, black and sullen, the windowless 
 end of the north wing. The light vanished, but Her- 
 bert as if still seeing bore me forward, threading 
 his way, without apparent difficulty, between the 
 trees. And, even in my wretchedness, I could not 
 but marvel at his great strength, for he carried me 
 with almost careless ease. 
 
 "Hide your face against my shoulder, Dolly," he 
 whispered, as the pleasant pungent odor of the arbor- 
 vitse told me that we had reached the grove. "These 
 trees grow close; their branches may hurt you." And 
 he moved slowly, shielding me with arm and hand, as 
 he began to descend the bank. 
 
 My eyes were growing accustomed to the dark- 
 ness. We were in a little glade, its sides topped 
 by trees; below us the river. Herbert set me down 
 gently, needing a moment's rest But his arms 
 were still around me, and I felt his lips upon my 
 hair. I strove to draw away. He but pressed me 
 closer, murmuring that he loved me, and would hold 
 me fast. 
 
 "That you, Bert?" said a voice very near us. 
 
 My heart stood still, then beat with suffocating 
 rapidity, for I was saved! Close beside me, though 
 hardly visible in the darkness, was my old playmate, 
 James Wylde. I struggled to speak, to free myself, 
 but Herbert held me firmly, and my words were but a 
 moan. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" Herbert asked, 
 333
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 sharply, in evident surprise. "Is the boat below? 
 Then don't wait." And quickly, dexterously, he 
 turned, so that he was between me and Jim, adding, 
 "Be off! and meet me later, where I told you." His 
 words were followed by the soft rustle of retreating 
 footsteps. 
 
 I was sick with despair. But I said to myself, 
 fiercely, that the river was wide, and long, and deep; 
 and that before Herbert had gone far he should be 
 without a companion. The lightning, playing along 
 the distant horizon, now showed me Jim's tall figure 
 at the top of the side slope. I saw him turn and look 
 back, as if at us. Then the light died away, and Her- 
 bert, again lifting me in his arms, recommenced his 
 journey downward. Suddenly Jim's voice struck 
 sharply through the gloom : 
 
 "Who've you got with you, Bert Fayne?" 
 
 "Nobody," said Herbert, shortly. 
 
 "That's a lie," was the quick retort. "Who is it?" 
 
 I felt Herbert start. Then he controlled himself. 
 "You've done your part," he said, with forced good- 
 nature, "and if I choose to take a pretty face with me, 
 what's that to you?" 
 
 He spoke as though I had been some young girl of 
 the neighborhood, who had pleased his idle fancy. 
 And I knew from Jim's half-grumbled apology that 
 he was sorry he had interfered. But the faint glim- 
 mer of the lightning came again, and his words died 
 upon his lips, for he saw me. 
 
 "By God, it's Theo!" he cried, fiercely, seizing Her- 
 bert by the shoulder and twisting him sharply around. 
 "You leave her go, Bert Fayne !" 
 
 "Damn your impertinence!" said Herbert, with 
 equal fierceness. "How dare you meddle with our 
 affairs? Get out of my way." 
 
 He tried to struggle forward, but Jim held him 
 fast. "You wait till she says she wants to go off with 
 
 334
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 you," lie said, hoarsely. "I'll never believe it till 
 then!" 
 
 Herbert, knowing that my swathed mouth would, if 
 seen, bear witness against him, strove to conceal my 
 face; but the fitful light from across the river made 
 his effort vain. 
 
 "You've gagged her," said Jim, in an awed whisper. 
 "You're the biggest devil I know!" He tore the scarf 
 from my face, and caught Herbert by the throat. 
 "You'd choke her, would you, damn you?" he panted 
 through his set teeth. "Try how you like it yourself!" 
 
 Herbert staggered back, lost his hold and I was 
 free. With frantic haste, my bound hands crippling 
 every movement, I stumbled back up the bank, on 
 into the black shadows of the grove. How might I 
 make my way through the trees without my hands? 
 Alas! I knew that even could I do this, and succeed in 
 reaching the house, the By-Ways, because of my help- 
 less condition, would be closed to me. I might attract 
 Lilian's attention calling softly to her beneath the 
 window of my dressing-room and, with her help, 
 steal in. But no, the house was watched. If I were 
 seen, my hands bound, Herbert's coat upon my shoul- 
 ders No, I would re-enter by the By- Ways or not 
 at all. 
 
 As I paused at the top of the bank, my mind dis- 
 tracted by its harassing thoughts a hunted creature, 
 not knowing which way to turn a heavy thud from 
 below told me that one, if not both, of the combatants 
 had fallen. If Herbert had conquered, he would come 
 for me would search everywhere. I held my 
 breath; the effort to hear what was taking place be- 
 came a positive pain. 
 
 "Courage, O Diamond among beautiful women!" 
 said a voice from out of the darkness, and I felt deft 
 fingers .unknotting the ribbon at my waist. 
 
 "The palmist!" I gasped, a great sob rising in my 
 335
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 throat, in my joy at my release in my misery at my 
 position. Discovered thus, by a stranger! 
 
 "And Felix Fadd, Mrs. Rappelle," said my unseen 
 companion, ceasing to use fantastic language, directly 
 it had served its purpose and quieted my alarm. Then 
 as my hands were freed, he added : "Give me the coat." 
 I obeyed quickly. "And take this." A match-box 
 was placed in my trembling fingers. "The light from 
 the library will guide you now," he said, gravely, "and 
 the door into the By- Ways is ajar. Go swiftly, Mra. 
 Rappelle." 
 
 All the strange happenings of the night had been 
 so unreal to me that I accepted the presence of the 
 palmist, and the disclosure of his identity, without 
 question or surprise. I murmured a few broken 
 words of thanks, and hastened back to the house. As 
 I reached it and was closing the secret door behind me, 
 the metallic voice of the old clock cut through the 
 heavy air like a knife. I. listened, counting. Twelve 
 strokes. Twenty minutes had seemed a lifetime ! 
 
 While hurriedly lighting the lantern I heard the 
 sharp report of a revolver. Shuddering, I hastened up 
 the ladder-like stairs, on, through the armoire, to my 
 room. Running to its eastern window, turning the 
 swivels of its closed blinds, I stared out into the night. 
 The light from the library had vanished. Was it 
 fancy, or did I really hear the sound of footsteps, mov- 
 ing quickly toward the grove? 
 
 The rain had come. It fell with dull, unceasing 
 patter upon the roof of the portico. 
 
 Who had fallen, after that pistol shot James 
 Wylde? And who was outside, in the pall-like dark- 
 ness Etienne? 
 
 336
 
 XXIX 
 
 "Theo?" said an impatient voice from my dressing- 
 room, "Theo are you there? When did you come 
 in? What was that pistol shot?" And Lilian, tip- 
 toeing across the room, joined me at the window. 
 "Why are you looking out, you can't see in this dark- 
 ness Oh, how awful!" as the lightning illuminated 
 the short stretch of grass below the window, the great 
 trees, the wide river, and a little group of men slowly 
 mounting the steps of the portico. "Theo ! have they 
 caught him? Oh, what shall I do; what shall I " 
 she broke off, turning upon me fiercely. "The let- 
 ters?" she whispered, feverishly. "The letters 
 where are they?" 
 
 I gave them to her, and told her rapidly what had 
 happened. 
 
 "Herbert may have been shot he may be dead!" 
 she gasped. "Oh, if that's only true ! Quick, get off 
 this scarf." It still hung about my throat. "Make 
 yourself presentable before you're seen. Your hair 
 is coming down, there's a long rope of it hanging over 
 your shoulder. Hush! What was that? If Herbert 
 isn't dead, I shall go mad ! I'm almost crazy now, sit- 
 ting all alone, waiting, waiting, in this dreadful room. 
 All its silken roses and soft rugs can't cover up its hor- 
 rors. It's full of dead people; Lydia ah!" she 
 clutched me nervously "what's that moving in the 
 corner?" She pointed across the room, staring, white- 
 faced, at the high four-post bedstead with its rose- 
 strewn hangings. "Oh, I see now, nothing but those 
 
 337
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 curtains waving," she said in a relieved voice. "But 
 the room is so dark. I'll turn up the lamp." 
 
 I stopped her. "No, no," I said, hastily; "if they 
 think I am asleep, they may not disturb me." 
 
 "By 'they,' you mean Etienne?" 
 
 "Yes, Lilian," I said. 
 
 We stood together by the window, in the dimly 
 lighted room, listening breathlessly. It seemed to me 
 that I could hear people moving about in the library, 
 the murmur of hushed voices, the laying down of a 
 heavy burden. But my imagination was so fevered 
 that I could not trust my own senses. I asked Lilian 
 if she heard anything. 
 
 "I can't tell," she said, in a terrified whisper. "I've 
 strained my ears so long, listening for you from the 
 dressing-room (I couldn't stand waiting in here), that 
 they're full of noises rustlings, whisperings, footsteps 
 ah ! somebody's coming now " 
 
 But no one came. 
 
 "You had better go to your room," I said, striving 
 for composure, "and to bed. You can rest, if you 
 can't sleep. There is no use of your staying here with 
 me." 
 
 "No," she whimpered, "you're worse than nobody; 
 white as a ghost, your eyes caverns, and that coil of 
 hair, like a great black snake, hanging over your 
 shoulder. You are awful looking ! Theo!" she stared 
 at me strangely, "your wedding-ring is gone: What 
 a terrible omen! Where is it? Lost or what?" 
 
 As she ceased speaking the secret panel slid aside 
 and Etienne entered. 
 
 Lilian edged away from me, slipping quickly 
 through the shadows till she had put the width of half 
 the room between us; then paused, at the foot of the 
 bed, as though curiosity had conquered fear. Etienne 
 gave us no greeting, but, going to the lamp, turned it 
 high, lighted the candles on the tall chimney-piece, 
 
 338
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 and then confronted me. His face was colorless; his 
 hair and loose smoking-jacket of black velvet were 
 glistening with moisture. I stepped forward to go to 
 him, then stood still, daunted by the expression of 
 mingled hatred and contempt in his brilliant eyes. 
 He scanned me from head to foot, taking in every de- 
 tail of my disordered dress. 
 
 "I am here, madam," he said slowly, and his low 
 voice was terrible in its bitter scorn, "to tell you that 
 your lover is dead." 
 
 Lilian uttered a low cry, but Etienne did not notice 
 her. I think he did not even see her, for his passion 
 made him blind to all save me. 
 
 "His theft had been discovered," he continued, in 
 the same even tone, "but it was thought that he could 
 not escape; since you, and you only it was supposed 
 knew the By- Ways of Braithe. No one imagined 
 that my wife would help this man, although he were 
 her cousin, to get away with his spoils. As for sus- 
 pecting that the thief was her lover " 
 
 "Etienne!" I cried, imploringly, then checked the 
 words on my lips, not daring to begin a defence for 
 fear of involving Lilian, and so breaking my oath. 
 
 He waited a moment, and finding that I said noth- 
 ing further, spoke himself. 
 
 "Answer," he said, sternly, "and don't attempt to 
 deceive me. Did you, or did you not, guide Herbert 
 Fayne through the By- Ways to-night? Yes or no?" 
 
 I bowed my head, I could not speak. 
 
 "Did you enter them from this room?" 
 
 Again I made a motion in acquiescence. 
 
 "How long were you in them?" he demanded. 
 
 I was silent. 
 
 "Answer," he said, fiercely. 
 
 "A half hour," I faltered. 
 
 He laughed harshly. "A half hour!" he repeated. 
 "A half hour! And I suppose you would have me 
 
 339
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 believe " He broke off, his quick eyes had spied 
 the absence of my rings. "At least," he said, looking 
 at me strangely, "you had the decency to leave your 
 wedding-ring behind you. I knew from the first," 
 he went on, slowly, "that it meant little to you; but, 
 in my blind folly, I believed you respected what it 
 stood for. And so, to a certain extent, you must 
 have ; since you would not wear that symbol of honor 
 when " He did not finish his sentence; it was as 
 though he could not, as if the words would not pass 
 his lips. 
 
 "Those men downstairs," he said, presently, "are 
 wondering how the secret exits were discovered. Not 
 one of them would dream of questioning the immacu- 
 late purity of the lovely Mrs. Rappelle!" Again he 
 laughed. "You have so befooled them, that were they 
 to be told the truth, that you were the guide and com- 
 panion of that villain that you would have fled with 
 him to-night, they would either not believe it or they 
 would find some excuses for you still." 
 
 He pointed at my satin, a derisive smile twisting his 
 lips. I looked down. The long train was stained 
 with grass and mud, where it had been trampled upon 
 during that short struggle under the trees. 
 
 "Lies will not serve you, you see," he said, and as 
 he spoke he drew a handful of crumpled rose leaves 
 from his pocket, and held them toward me in his open 
 palm. "These were found upon your lover's breast 
 I saw them, earlier, against your own. I wanted to 
 kiss the white neck they rested on, but denied myself, 
 while he " 
 
 He was silent an instant, then his passion, kept 
 thus far in check, broke its bonds. He flung the 
 fragrant petals from him as if they had been poisonous 
 live things, a dark red suffused his rigid face, his eyes 
 blazed. 
 
 "You let me hold you in my arms and kiss your 
 340
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 lips," he cried, furiously, "when you were planning 
 to disgrace me! You fooled me with the pretence 
 that you were learning to love me, but the better to 
 put me off my guard !" 
 
 I tried to speak ; strove to tell him that I had wished 
 Herbert to escape because of the Braithe honor. I 
 could not force myself to voice this falsehood, know- 
 ing too well that but for my oath I would have carried 
 my trouble straight to him. As I stood silent, like a 
 guilty thing, he suddenly held up before me the opal 
 on its diamond chain. The great gem seemed shot 
 through with flames of green and blue ; it was resplen- 
 dent, surpassing the diamonds in its wealth of color. 
 
 "This you clasped about your lover's throat," he 
 cried, his voice hoarse with passion, "then forced your 
 innocent sister to bear the blame of its loss wanton !" 
 
 He hurled words and jewels at me. Both struck 
 upon my breast, but the cruel insult cut deep into my 
 heart. And I caught the opal, the Gypsy's Opal, my 
 mother's opal, and pressed it close, close to the wound ; 
 as if the mere touch of the gen glowing now, like a 
 heart on fire might bring me ease and healing. 
 
 Etienne stood silent, regarding me with sombre 
 eyes. He had regained control of himself. 
 
 "You seem pleased to have recovered your treas- 
 ure," he said, at last. "Doubtless you contemplate 
 using it again as a love token. Perhaps I have 
 wronged you in supposing that you thought of leaving 
 Braithe, with its comforts" he glanced about the 
 luxurious room "for a haphazard life with Fayne. 
 You may have intended after a half hour of fare- 
 wells in the By- Ways to return to enjoy my wealth 
 and the shelter of my honest name." 
 
 These continued insults stung me to action. I lifted 
 my head haughtily. I looked at him steadily. "I 
 will go to-morrow," I said. Nothing, I vowed to my- 
 self, should keep me under his roof another day. 
 
 341
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "You will remain," he replied his voice was 
 steeped in bitterness "and, to the world, appear as 
 my honored wife. You have not lost your beauty, 
 and other men will envy me my privileges." 
 
 I felt as though sullied by his dreadful words, as if 
 I could not endure this torture longer. I looked plead- 
 ingly, entreatingly, at Lilian. If she would but speak 
 and right me in his sight not that I could ever for- 
 give him, could ever forget his insults. Lilian stood, 
 eyes downcast, her pretty fair hair floating over her 
 white peignoir, the picture of lovely, girlish innocence 
 and sorrow. 
 
 "In a certain way," Etienne went on, "I love you 
 still. For although I have discovered that my idol's 
 aristocratic, high-arched feet are of clay, they are 
 very charming little feet. You are a true Braithe, 
 and as such out of place on a pedestal; but to while 
 away a man's time when Oh, my God!" He ceased 
 speaking, turned away, and, leaning against the high 
 chimney-piece, covered his face with his hands. 
 
 "I will take the child," I said, steadily, "and go to- 
 morrow. I will never forgive you, and never re- 
 turn." 
 
 "Theo!" exclaimed Lilian, softly. 
 
 I raised my tired eyes and looked at her, and she 
 knew that my decision was made. Then she advanced 
 slowly toward me and spoke for how might she fare 
 did Janey and I go? 
 
 "Etienne," she said, gently, "dear Etienne!" 
 
 He uncovered his haggard face and stared at her, 
 as though for the first time aware of her presence in 
 the room; but he did not speak. 
 
 "Dear Etienne," her voice was exquisite in its sweet- 
 ness, "aren't you too hard on poor Theo? I'm sure she 
 meant no harm." 
 
 My heart sank within me. I had not known how 
 much I had hoped for help, until I realized that it 
 
 342
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 was not to be looked for from her. Nothing, I saw, 
 would induce her to tell of her marriage to Herbert; at 
 all costs she would keep that a secret, and so win Car- 
 rington. 
 
 "What do you know of such matters?" said Etienne, 
 wearily. "Go to your room, Lilian; this is no place 
 for innocent girls." 
 
 "But, dear Etienne," she said, still more gently, 
 "you are really unkind to Theo. She could not let a 
 Braithe be dishonored " 
 
 "Why didn't she come to me?" he demanded, with 
 sudden fierceness. "She knew I was wax in her 
 hands, that if she wanted him screened I'd have bought 
 him off if it had cost every cent I had. Oh, she knew 
 her power well. There, go, you mustn't stay here." 
 
 He spoke to Lilian, but he looked at me, and there 
 was a great anguish in his eyes. She was silent for a 
 moment, and I knew that she was reviewing her 
 chances with Carrington; asking herself if he would 
 best approve her throwing in her lot with me, or ad- 
 mire her more did she remain quietly at Braithe with 
 Etienne. It was a difficult question, her pretty brows 
 puckered in anxiety, for a false step now might ruin 
 all. Mr. Carrington had always liked me but he 
 believed in wives staying at home. I saw that she 
 still held the packet of letters the letters that would 
 restore my good name if she would but show them 
 in her hand. But her arm hung by her side, and the 
 lace of her sleeve concealed both hand and package. 
 
 I stood near the tall cheval-glass, whose gleaming 
 surface reflected the brightly lighted room, with its 
 three silent occupants. Lilian, in her floating white 
 neglige; Etienne in his rain-bespattered velvet coat; 
 and I, in my disordered dress the shining satin 
 blurred with mud stains, my hair uncoiled, and the 
 splendid jewels blazing against my aching heart. We 
 were a strange trio. 
 
 343
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 Lilian began to speak. She had chosen her part 
 what would she say? 
 
 "I hope you may be mistaken, Etienne," she said; 
 "but if it is as you fear, if poor Theo has done wrong " 
 She ceased speaking, she stared into the depths of the 
 great mirror, her face grew haggard, ashen. "Ah!" 
 she gasped, shrinking back, her white lips twitching, 
 a look of awful fear in her dilated eyes, "Lydia! Don't 
 let her touch me in her shroud!" And flinging up 
 her arms as if to ward off some approaching horror, she 
 fell senseless where she stood. 
 
 I ran to her and, kneeling, lifted her head upon my 
 lap. I felt that I must ask aid of Etienne. I hated to 
 speak to him, but I forced down my anger, my pride. 
 
 "Etienne," I almost whispered, "she has fainted 
 bring water, please." 
 
 He did not answer. I heard the rustle of paper. 
 I looked up. He was by the table that held the lamp, 
 rapidly examining the letters, that must have been 
 flung almost at his feet, by Lilian's wild motion of 
 despair. I held my breath, I dared neither speak nor 
 move, for he was reading the marriage certificate. He 
 read it deliberately, slowly, as if in fear of making 
 some mistake; then selected, with careful examina- 
 tion of their dates, two letters, and read them through. 
 He turned and looked at me. 
 
 "You were her cat's-paw?" he asked, in a low voice, 
 pointing at Lilian. 
 
 "Yes," I said, wearily. 
 
 "You couldn't trust me?" 
 
 "I was under oath," I said. 
 
 "To get these back?" he demanded. 
 
 "Yes, yes and not to tell. But get me water, 
 please, and help me bring her to." 
 
 I spoke impatiently -for of what use were explana- 
 tions now, when his doubts had proved his love 
 worthless? 
 
 344
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 "These were the price of his safe conduct from the 
 house ?" he persisted, methodically retying the letters, 
 and putting them into his pocket. 
 
 "Yes," I again answered. "Ah! she is coming to 
 herself, I think " 
 
 "She shan't stay here," he cried, with sudden anger. 
 And snatching her up before I well knew what he 
 would do, he called to me to open the door, carried her 
 along the gallery to her room, and almost flung her 
 upon the bed. 
 
 "You are not to touch her," he said, imperiously; 
 "do you understand? Merle shall wake her maid, and 
 she can attend to her. Come back to your room, you 
 have " 
 
 "Theo!" cried Lilian, faintly. "I want Theo. Ah!" 
 as I leaned over her, "where is she?" Lifting her- 
 self feebly, she looked about her in terror, but finding 
 that she was in her own room, said, sighing, "Then it 
 was only a dream." 
 
 The next moment she was searching for her letters, 
 crying out that I had fooled her, played her false. 
 Etienne had gone, as I supposed, for the maid; but 
 while I was striving to soothe her, yet not to tell what 
 had become of the letters, he returned. 
 
 "I have your letters," he said, sternly, "and shall 
 keep them until you behave yourself. Drink this" 
 he held a wineglass to her lips "and stop tormenting 
 Theo for a few hours, at least." 
 
 Trembling, sobbing like a frightened child, she 
 obeyed, but insisted that I should remain with her. 
 I did so, paying no heed to Etienne's remonstrances. 
 The sleeping draught was a powerful one Etienne 
 had measured it out with no light hand and in a few 
 moments her deep breathing told me that I was no 
 longer needed. 
 
 Before the maid came I had sufficiently recovered 
 myself to think of appearances. I hastily knotted up 
 
 345
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 my hair, but the long train of my gown bore marks of 
 rough usage that would be hard to conceal from a 
 sharp-eyed femme de chambre. As I turned the light 
 low, I thought of Josette's wonder when she should 
 see the state of the satin ; and sighed as I realized what 
 a tissue of falsehoods must be woven, to hang over the 
 doings of that night. I went to my dressing-room, 
 and, putting on a wrapper, began my task of removing 
 the stains at once. I felt odd, unlike myself; my head 
 and eyes burning, my brain as if on fire. I repeated, 
 over and over again, Etienne's cruel words, as if to 
 stamp them indelibly upon my mind. I made no 
 allowance for the mad jealousy that had prompted 
 them, or for his hot temper; I refused to remind my- 
 self of the many ^kindnesses I, and mine, had received 
 at his hands. I had but one desire, to wound him as 
 deeply as he had wounded me I, who had never be- 
 fore wished to hurt anyone ! 
 
 Presently I heard someone moving in the adjoining 
 room and Etienne entered. I did not raise my eyes, 
 but, the train of the satin across my knee, continued 
 my task as if too much absorbed to notice that he stood 
 near. He sighed, then seated himself beside me. 
 My heart began to beat violently, painfully; my hands 
 trembled; I but made a pretence of working. He took 
 the gown from me, freeing my fingers gently as I 
 would have clung to it, and flung it aside. 
 
 "Don't touch me," I cried, passionately, striving to 
 release my hands that he held firmly in his own; "you 
 have made me hate you!" 
 
 "You can't forgive me, Theo?" he said. 
 
 "No," I cried, the hot color surging into my white 
 cheeks, my eyes flashing as I turned and looked him 
 in the face. "I had an affection for you, do you un- 
 derstand? I had grown fond of you. I trusted you, 
 believed in you! Yes, believed in you so entirely 
 that had anyone, had all the world, cried out that you 
 
 346
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 had done wrong, even had appearances shown you to 
 be guilty, I would have sworn that people and circum- 
 stances spoke falsely, yes, lied! So great was my 
 faith." 
 
 My voice sank as I spoke these last words; tears 
 sprang to my fevered eyes, ran over, plashed down 
 upon his hands folded close on mine. 
 
 "My darling!" he murmured. Then said, firmly, 
 "I will win it back." 
 
 "No," I sobbed, "you cannot. It is dead." 
 
 "I can never forgive myself," he said, sadly, and 
 again he sighed. He lifted my hand, and put back 
 both my wedding-ring and the great ruby. I knew 
 that he could have found them only by replacing the 
 old lantern forgotten by me in my excitement and 
 that he, too, held the wearisome secrets of the 
 House. 
 
 "You feel as you did at first," he asked; "that these 
 are fetters?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered, not sparing him. "And I must 
 again begin a life of pretence. Janey must not know 
 that I am unhappy. It would hurt her." 
 
 "Theo !" he cried. His voice showed how my words 
 cut him. Springing to his feet he walked restlessly 
 about the room, but paused at last before my dressing- 
 table. "Fadd gave me these just now," he said, 
 gloomily, taking my lost jewels from his pocket and 
 heaping them in a gleaming mass. "And the others 
 are all found, too. He Fayne had them concealed 
 about him." 
 
 "Was he shot?" I asked, faintly. 
 
 "I thought you knew," said Etienne, slowly, "that 
 Wylde choked him to death." 
 
 I sat silent. A great horror held me dumb. Her- 
 bert was dead, and James Wylde a murderer because 
 of me. At last one fear dominated all others, and 
 forced me into speech. 
 
 347
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "James Wylde," I whispered, "have they caught 
 him?" 
 
 "No" said Etienne, shortly, then added: "He got 
 away in the darkness and I am not sorry." 
 
 I looked up, our eyes met, and I knew that Mr. 
 Fadd had stood my friend, by telling my story for me. 
 
 "Yes," said Etienne, as though reading my un- 
 spoken question in my eyes, "Fadd was in the By- 
 Ways, with you. He was prepared to shoot Fayne, did 
 he reach the boat but Wylde came. I did not give 
 Fadd the secrets of the House. He discovered them. 
 As for me I bought them, with the Manor." He 
 was silent a long moment. "You will wear these 
 sometimes?" He pointed to the gems that sparkled 
 in the lamplight. 
 
 "Oh, yes," I said, indifferently. 
 
 "And this?" he held up the diamond heart. 
 
 "Yes," I said. 
 
 "For the sake of the child?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Theo," he said, earnestly, "won't you tell me what 
 I can do to make things easier for you? Would you 
 like to go away for a time just Janey and you?" 
 
 "Yes !" I faltered, my tears beginning to flow fast, 
 "just Janey and I and our Charles Stuart." 
 
 "So be it," said Etienne, quietly, and he left the 
 room. 
 
 And I, I went into my oratory, and wore out the 
 night in prayers for forgiveness. Might God be merci- 
 ful to me and to my erring cousin. Might he pro- 
 tect, and pardon, the poor fugitive, James Wylde. 
 
 348
 
 XXX 
 
 Herbert was buried near the chapel, as had always 
 been his wish. And with all honor; since he was be- 
 lieved to have met his death bravely, in an attempt 
 to prevent the jewel thieves from carrying off their 
 plunder. The burglars had hidden their booty in 
 the underbrush by the river, and returning to seek it 
 had been discovered by Herbert. Although alone, 
 and unarmed, he had fearlessly attacked them and 
 so lost his life. This Mr. Praie told all who asked for 
 an account of the affair; and newspaper reporters came 
 from far and near. 
 
 So for pall, Herbert had a tapestry of falsehoods, 
 and as shroud, a mask and domino of lies. 
 
 James Wylde never returned home. When the 
 war with Spain broke out he enlisted, and ended the 
 brief span of his reckless life while fighting for his 
 country. Herbert had not confided any of the stolen 
 jewels to his keeping, so he was never sought for. 
 
 "My Jim was like a spirituous horse," said poor 
 Mrs. Gill, weeping profusely, "an' I drawed the curb 
 too tight on him, I guess. "When he was mad he waa 
 like me; his wits turned tipsy-turvy, an' he done ex- 
 tryordinary crazy things. Anyways," she added, dry- 
 ing her eyes and striving for composure, "he couldn't 
 never have been totally happy, seeing you, Miss Theo, 
 was born a Braithe, and not just a plain farmer's 
 daughter like himself and married, too, to an hon- 
 orary gentleman as good as gold!" 
 
 Mr. Fadd's interest had been aroused when Mrs. 
 Strong, returning from her evening at Braithe House 
 
 349
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 in a state of painful excitement, had given not only an 
 account of the tableau from Faust, with its ending, but 
 had told him stories of the Braithes and of my opal, as 
 well. This interest had been added to, the next morn- 
 ing; since it was then, when he was calling at the 
 Manor, that the robbery was discovered. The theft 
 of the jewels, coming so shortly after the disappear- 
 ance of the opal, led Mr. Fadd to suspect that the thief 
 was not far away. He asked permission to come 
 secretly to Braithe, and to assist in the search for a 
 clue; suggesting, also, that his knowledge of palmistry 
 might serve to amuse our disturbed guests. I have 
 always fancied that, believing in his own skill, he had 
 hoped thus to learn much of the characters of the in- 
 mates of Braithe. But it was Herbert's close resem- 
 blance to the portrait of our great-great-great-grand- 
 father that caused Mr. Fadd's suspicions to centre ulti- 
 mately upon him. Mr. Praie had overheard Herbert's 
 conversation with me at the foot of the staircase, and 
 had thus learned that he contemplated leaving Braithe. 
 But it was Mr. Fadd who had insisted that he would 
 go secretly, and that very evening. The detectives, 
 however, had yielded to Mr. Fadd's wish that Etienne 
 should not be told either that Herbert was the thief, 
 or that he might even then be seeking to escape, until 
 after midnight. 
 
 Students are, sometimes, cruel. Had Mr. Fadd 
 been content to forego his strange study of supersti- 
 tions and of the doctrine of heredity I might have 
 been spared two hours of anguish. 
 
 Herbert's past record was never known. He had 
 told Lilian the police were seeking him, and that the 
 house was watched, in order to work upon her fears 
 sufficiently to enable him to carry out his plans. The 
 anxiety, and the subsequent fright, made Lilian ill. 
 She could not rid herself of the fancy that Lydia pur- 
 sued her. The mirrors in her room had to be covered; 
 
 350
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 she dared not look in them, dreading lest she might 
 see Lydia's grave-gray face, and meet her awful eyes. 
 
 Ten days passed before she was able to go, with 
 little Jane and me, to the cottage that Etienne had 
 taken for us on the south shore of Long Island. But 
 by the last of August she was well enough to make the 
 promised visit to Mrs. Ainslie, and returned to Braithe 
 only in time to prepare for her marriage to Ralph Car- 
 rington. Etienne had insisted that Mr. Carrington 
 must know of her secret marriage to Herbert. So she 
 herself told him, and so cleverly, that he thought her 
 but the innocent victim of Herbert's selfishness, and 
 his affection for her was, through pity, increased ten- 
 fold. 
 
 Etienne and I were not very happy. He could not 
 realize that I had forgiven his jealous outburst, long 
 before a month was over and I was too shy to tell 
 him so. It was impossible for me to bring myself to 
 speak of that night of misery. He was very, very 
 kind to Janey and me, quick to note any change that 
 might add to our comfort, and ever striving to pro- 
 mote our pleasure. But he seemed to care little 
 what he did himself; and when his face was in re- 
 pose, it was always sad. This worried me; and I 
 fretted over his altered looks, and our changed rela- 
 tions, until I lost my color, and grew thin thus 
 increasing his unhappiness, and making my little 
 sister miserable. 
 
 Lilian was married in October. To please her, I 
 consented to put off my mourning, and to wear colors 
 on her wedding day. Her superstitious fears thus 
 far quieted, her anxiety that the day might be fair 
 became painful since happy is the bride that the sun 
 shines on. Fortunately, it proved to be perfect. The 
 sun shone clear and warm. The trees were in gala 
 Attire of shaded crimsons, reds, yellows, and softest 
 browns. The river a pale blue mirror reflected 
 
 351
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 shores and mountains veiled in purple haze, and the 
 broad sweep of a turquoise sky. 
 
 The chapel was decked with chrysanthemums; with 
 long sprays of the graceful woodbine, dyed the deepest 
 red; with branches of russet-stained oak, and great 
 boughs of the many-tinted maple. So much had the 
 little church become a part of the woodland that it 
 seemed as though the old garden gay with autumnal 
 flowers and the belt of richly colored trees, through 
 which came the wedding guests, were but its length- 
 ened aisle. 
 
 The wedding was in the afternoon and Lilian made 
 the loveliest of brides; so fair and pure looking in her 
 snowy satin, and veil of filmy lace. The chapel was 
 filled to overflowing with a gay crowd from town, and 
 a few of these friends were to remain with us for a 
 short visit. Because of the long afternoon of festivity 
 the evening was cut rather short, and it was but eleven 
 o'clock when our guests said good-night. 
 
 "Do you know," said Mrs. Love, who had lingered 
 behind the others for a few last words with me, at the 
 foot of the staircase, "do you know, Mrs. Theo, that 
 this beast," laying her hand upon the leopard newel- 
 post, "always reminds me of the late lamented. Now 
 don't look grieved over my flippancy; his being dead 
 doesn't sanctify him any to me not a bit ! And when 
 I cast my eye on any of these catty, heraldic animals 
 of yours, I seem to see Herbert Fayne again. He had 
 such a pantherish way of sliding around after you, and 
 watching you, Madam R. I used to wish that some- 
 body would just choke the deviltry out of him. Why, 
 lovely girl, don't turn so pale! I didn't mean to talk 
 such a lot of rot about Fayne, but the truth is he got 
 on my nerves the last time I was here. I used to catch 
 myself holding my breath, waiting for him to pounce! 
 That gown of yours is just about perfect, do you know 
 it? I'm glad you put on a low bodice for dinner. 
 
 352
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 The other was pretty, too; but your shoulders are too 
 handsome to hide. And I'm glad you got your gew- 
 gaws back. Somehow the more you sling on the bet- 
 ter. Why, beside you the bride wasn't even a well- 
 backed second choice ! Oh, here comes Rappelle with 
 a lot of men. Kiss me good-night, quick!" 
 
 She ran upstairs, and I followed. I went into my 
 dressing-room. Josette was not there. Returning 
 softly to the gallery, I looked over the railing. 
 Etienne was re-entering the library, alone. He swung 
 the baize door to behind him, but, disregarding this 
 no-admittance signal, I went slowly downstairs. I 
 felt overwhelmed by all he had done for me and mine; 
 he had been so very generous to Lilian, so tender with 
 little Jane, so good to me. I thought I would try to 
 thank him. I would tell him how deeply I appre- 
 ciated his protecting care. I wondered if I should 
 have the courage to say what I felt. I lingered, hesi- 
 tating; then, pulling open the baize door gently, I 
 tapped lightly on the heavier one behind. No an- 
 swer. I turned the knob, and looked in. 
 
 He stood beside the hearth, his back toward me; 
 one arm rested against the tall chimney-piece, his head 
 was bowed upon it, and his attitude expressed utter 
 weariness and the most profound dejection. This 
 hurt me so much that I forgot my shyness of the 
 moment before. I took up my trailing draperies 
 firmly, and holding them so that they should not 
 rustle and betray me, crossed the room with noiseless 
 step and laid my hand upon his shoulder. He lifted 
 his face so grave and careworn and, seeing who it 
 was, held out a kind hand, while he smiled a welcome. 
 
 "What can I do for you, Theo?" he asked, gently, 
 seeming to think I had come to beg some new favor. 
 
 "Two things, kind sir," I said, gayly. He must not 
 know that I had noticed his depression of spirits. 
 
 "Name them, please." 
 
 353
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 "First, monseigneur," I said, with mock solemnity, 
 while I spread out my skirts with both hands and swept 
 him a low courtesy, "I wish you to say that you are 
 satisfied with your own taste" he had chosen my 
 gown "and to tell me that I have not done it dis- 
 credit." 
 
 I folded my hands demurely, and awaited his judg- 
 ment. 
 
 He looked me over slowly, with a would-be critical 
 expression in his keen dark eyes. And, although I 
 knew that my dressmaker had outdone herself, I found 
 that I had overrated my own powers. I could not 
 stand his scrutiny coolly, and my heart began to 
 beat. 
 
 My gown was exquisite, of palest pink silk, so rich 
 that in certain lights it looked as though beaded with 
 pearls. The rare point-lace that almost covered it was 
 like a tracery of intricate frost-work. High on the 
 left shoulder, close to the big puffs that served as 
 sleeves, and held in place by a diamond butterfly, lay 
 three red roses a bud, a half -blown rose, and the per- 
 fect flower. In my hair sparkled the diamond crescent 
 with its companion stars; the Gypsy's Opal glowed at 
 my throat, held by its gleaming chain. And I wore a 
 breast-knot of opals and diamonds Etienne's latest 
 gift. 
 
 "You think," he said, at last, with a smile half 
 amused, half sad, "that I have waited till now to look 
 at you, Theo?" 
 
 "JSTo," I said, blushing at my own ill-behavior, yet 
 not mending my ways, "but you have not told me that 
 I pleased you. Do I please you, Etienne ?" 
 
 The color surged into his face, his eyes flashed; he 
 stepped forward, then stopped short, paling to the lips, 
 as though it cost him a great effort to control himself. 
 
 "An idle question from you to me, Theo," he said, 
 gravely, and there was reproach in his voice. "You 
 
 354
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 know well that you always please me far too much for 
 my happiness." 
 
 "Etienne," I cried, holding out my hands to him, 
 the ready tears springing to my eyes, "Etienne, for- 
 give me! I am ashamed." 
 
 He took the outstretched hands gently, kissed them, 
 and let them fall. 
 
 "Tell me the second thing that I am to do for you, 
 Theo," he said, quietly. 
 
 "Just that for this once you will let me thank you, 
 Etienne," I said, impulsively; "just that you will let 
 me tell you how deeply I appreciate " 
 
 I got no further, for he raised his hand to enjoin 
 silence. 
 
 "If you really wished to please me, Theo," he said, 
 sadly, "you would spare me all nonsense of this kind." 
 He glanced at the clock, then said hurriedly, "It is not 
 late", if you could give me a few moments, there is 
 something I must speak to you about but no, you 
 have had a day of fatigue, you must be tired; another 
 time will do." 
 
 But I was anxious to make amends, and remember- 
 ing that he liked to see me in Old Vivian's chair, 
 begged him to draw it forward that I might sit beside 
 the fire. 
 
 "Now begin, please," I said, smiling up at him as 
 I seated myself. "I am not at all tired, and there is 
 plenty of time." 
 
 He returned to his former position, leaning against 
 the chimney-piece on the opposite side of the wide 
 hearth. Instead of speaking, he stared down at the 
 smoldering logs, that were already beginning to crum- 
 ble into ashes, with sombre eyes eyes that did not 
 see the fire, but something that memory, or imagina- 
 tion, pictured. 
 
 Always susceptible to surroundings, the gloom of 
 the big room, with its duskv corners, the old portrait 
 
 355
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 of the wicked Vivian (looking vindictively down upon 
 the sad-faced Rappelle who had become the owner not 
 only of Braithe House and Manor, but also of his brill- 
 iantly clad descendant now seated in his very chair), 
 and Etienne's attitude of determined composure, yet 
 air of intense melancholy, weighed upon my spirits 
 and crushed them down. I felt suddenly oppressed, 
 frightened by the depressing atmosphere. I began to 
 wonder what I was to hear, if Etienne were displeased 
 with me. I had been very gay and merry all that 
 day; I had laughed and jested with everyone, thor- 
 oughly enjoying the excitement and bustle attending 
 the wedding. Lilian and Ralph were so very happy, 
 and little Jane had been in an ecstasy over every- 
 thing. 
 
 "I'm so wickedly glad to be rid of Lilian that I can't 
 be as sorry for poor Ralph as I ought," she had said. 
 "For, of course, he'll rue the day. Lilian's been a 
 wet-blanket and a scourge. Come, let's put the Cats 
 in pages' capes and caps of red leaves, and make them 
 look as gay as we feel!" 
 
 Had we been too gay, Janey and I? Was Etienne 
 annoyed? Would he take me to task over my light- 
 hearted behavior? As I worried myself with these 
 questions, sitting quite still in the great high-backed 
 chair, Etienne transferred his gaze from the crumbling 
 logs to me, and I saw that he strove to smooth his set 
 face into more cheerful curves. 
 
 "I have made up my mind to send you and Janey 
 away for the winter, Theo," he said, at last. "To the 
 Riviera, perhaps. I think that you need rest and a 
 complete change of scene." 
 
 "You forget that I have had both, Etienne," I said, 
 smiling; "Janey and I have just come home. But if 
 you would like to go, that is a different matter, and 
 little Jane and I will be quite willing to repack our 
 trunks." 
 
 356
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BEAITHE 
 
 He grew a trifle paler. "I shall stay here," he said. 
 "Merle can take you over, and remain with you. He 
 knows what you like; and I can trust him." I 
 looked at him in such evident surprise that he 
 added, "When I say you need rest, Theo, I mean 
 absence from me rest from the life of pretence you 
 so dislike." 
 
 I did not speak. I sat very still, marvelling at his 
 lack of insight. For I loved him and this he failed 
 to understand. 
 
 "You must not fancy, Theo, that you have shown, 
 by word or look, that you find your surroundings wear- 
 ing. You have too sweet a disposition, and too much 
 tact, ever to betray your discomfort to others. But 
 you can't prevent my seeing that you grow thin, or 
 hide the great circles under your eyes." 
 
 Again there was silence in the large room ; save for 
 the gentle rustle of settling ashes on the hearth, not a 
 sound. 
 
 "I will come to see you during the winter, Theo 
 there shall be no vulgar gossip over our affairs and 
 in the spring we will make a fresh start. By then, 
 please God, my shortcomings may have faded from 
 your memory." 
 
 He looked full at me when he stopped speaking, 
 and I knew that he expected an answer of some kind. 
 But what he had said had wrought wonderful changes 
 in the atmosphere. The room no longer appeared 
 gloomy; Old Vivian's hitherto vindictive face had be- 
 come expressionless; and my blood began to dance 
 wildly through my veins, driven by a thrill of excite- 
 ment. For I knew the time had come for me to put 
 an end to his doubts forever. I was a little fright- 
 ened, yet I did not wish to keep him waiting. I 
 wanted to tell him soberly, gravely, of my affection; 
 to be dignified and very calm. But, in spite of my 
 efforts, I could not bring myself to behave as I thought 
 
 357
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 right, since it is not in moments of great excitement 
 that one can alter one's nature. 
 
 Hardly knowing what I did, I unfastened the dia- 
 mond butterfly on my shoulder, freed the three roses 
 and placing them singly in a row on my silken lap, 
 glanced up at Etienne and smiled. 
 
 "Did you ever study botany, Etienne?" 
 
 "No, Theo," he said, watching me intently. 
 
 "Those three roses that I gave you on our wedding- 
 day, Etienne, you did not pull them to pieces to see 
 how they were made?" 
 
 "More idle questions, Theo?" he said I saw that 
 his turn to wonder had come. "This last makes three 
 to-night." 
 
 "A question for each rose," I said, dreamily. 
 "But those other roses you threw them away?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 "Did you, Etienne?" 
 
 "No," he said, briefly. And I saw that he was dis- 
 pleased, thinking me unkind. 
 
 "They must be sadly withered by now," I said, 
 musingly. Then, looking down at the roses, "I have 
 no horn-book, Etienne, but if you will come here I can 
 give you, with these" I touched the roses lightly 
 "your first lesson in flowers." 
 
 He came quickly, an eager light in his dark eyes; 
 and that he might the better read my face, pushed my 
 footstool a little aside, and dropped lightly on one 
 knee. 
 
 "You kneel gracefully, Etienne," I said, approv- 
 ingly. "Few men do." 
 
 "Thank you," he answered, quietly, an amused 
 smile curving his lips. "You ought to be a finished 
 judge, Theo, so the compliment is great." 
 
 "You shall be decorated," I went on, only showing 
 by the hot blush I could not control that I had heard 
 what he said, "and with the order of the butterfly." 
 
 358
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 And"I pinned the one that had held the roses upon his 
 coat. 
 
 He bent his head and kissed my arm just below the 
 elbow, as my hands were busied fastening the sparkling 
 brooch. And the touch of his lips set my fingers 
 trembling so that it was with difficulty I accomplished 
 my task. I leaned back in my chair and looked down 
 again at the roses on my lap; I dared not meet his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Listen to the story of the roses," I said softly, and 
 as though speaking to a child. "And you must be 
 good, and not interrupt else it may never be finished, 
 Etienne." 
 
 "Ah, Theo," he murmured, "if " 
 
 I held up my hand. "Listen!" I said. "These are 
 strange roses; they have taken a long, long time, to 
 unclose. See," I lifted the bud, "in mid-April this 
 little bud uncurled its first green leaf, and beneath 
 was the rosy flush of the coming flower. But it did 
 not quite emerge from its sheath till till the last of 
 May, Etienne." 
 
 He laid his hand, palm upward, upon my knee. 
 "Give me the bud, Theo," he said. 
 
 I laid it in his open palm, but he took both hand 
 and blossom and held them close. So I lifted the 
 half-blown rose with my left hand, held it to my lips a 
 moment, then said, in the merest whisper, though I 
 strove to tune my voice to a higher key: 
 
 "This shows what June would have done for 
 the little bud if you had not gathered it, 
 Etienne." 
 
 "My darling!" he murmured, as he caught the rose, 
 and, placing it with what he had before taken, rained 
 kisses upon hand and flowers. 
 
 My heart beat so violently it stirred the laces on 
 my bosom. His passion made my affection seem but 
 a slight, pale thing. The great red rose that still lay 
 
 359
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BRAITHE 
 
 upon my knee was a more fitting symbol of his love, 
 than of mine. 
 
 "Theo," he whispered, pleadingly, "Theo the per- 
 fect flower? Can I hope for that, too?" 
 
 His strong face was white with emotion, his brilliant 
 eyes glowed with passionate entreaty. I swayed 
 toward him; I laid the flower against his lips. 
 
 "In July," I faltered, "all its petals opened for 
 you Etienne." 
 
 As he held me close, covering my face and throat 
 with kisses, I heard the clocks throughout the house 
 chime the hour. 
 
 "This is your wedding favor, Etienne," I whis- 
 pered, slipping the rose into his button-hole. "Now 
 take me to the chapel come!" 
 
 He rose, lifting me from the great arm-chair. But 
 still he did not release me, and his lips sought mine. 
 
 "Ah, Etienne!" I cried, entreatingly, "we must 
 make haste. And you and I will repeat our vows. 
 Just you and I, alone together." 
 
 He needed no explanation of my feelings, but say- 
 ing he would get me a wrap since the night was 
 chill went to my room by way of his private stair- 
 case, and fetched me one. 
 
 "Josette?" I asked, anxiously. 
 
 "She was not there." 
 
 "No one must know, Etienne." 
 
 He smiled his answer, as he wrapped the cloak 
 about me. 
 
 The hall was empty as we passed out and closed the 
 great door softly behind us. 
 
 It was a white night. No clouds disputed the 
 sovereignty of the moon, enthroned aloft in a heaven 
 of crystal. And Jack Frost was abroad. He had 
 powdered the heads of the tall chrysanthemums with 
 silver, as they kept night-watch in the old-fashioned 
 flower garden; guarding the sun-dial that slept, rest- 
 
 360
 
 THE BY-WAYS OF BKAITHE 
 
 ing from its day of labor true to the motto carved 
 upon its breast: 
 
 "I count life by sunny hours and them alone." 
 The trees of the woodland spread their great 
 branches above us in silent benediction, as we passed 
 along the path. The waves of the broad river rang 
 musically against the pebbly shore, chiming like fairy 
 wedding bells. The chapel was dimly alight, the 
 moon's brilliancy illuminating its dusky spaces. The 
 painted saints of the windows a row of serene-faced 
 ghosts, showing pale outlines against the glory of the 
 white world outside looked shyly down upon us. 
 
 Hand in hand we walked silently up the aisle, and 
 kneeling at the steps of the chancel repeated, in 
 hushed voices, the vows that bound us together for so 
 long as we both should live. 
 
 The stern old house looked bright and cheerful as 
 we left woodland and garden and mounted its steep 
 flight of steps. Many windows were alight, showing 
 that the wedding guests were still awake. 
 
 I glanced across the lawn to where the Leopards sat 
 on their posts of stone. But they looked as though 
 extinguishers had been drawn tightly down over their 
 menacing figures, so muffled were they in the bravery 
 of little Jane's providing. 
 
 "When we entered Hervey was busy covering the 
 back-log with ashes; and his arrangement of the few 
 lamps left burning made the old verse above the chim- 
 ney-piece stand out in bold relief: 
 
 pligbt troutbe, ff attb and f>onour, 
 wcle JSraitbe Aanor. 
 
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