-NRLF 
 
 B M IDE 7fi3 
 
MI 5KANV 
 
 OF Till . 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 /tA 
 Accessions No. / " Class No. 
 
THE 
 
 SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 IRENE OSGOOD. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THE CLEVELAND PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 No. 19 UNION SQUARE, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 1893. 
 
Copyright, 1893, by 
 
 THE CLEVELAND PUBLISH:? COMPAKT,, 
 
 19 Union Square, 
 
 New York. 
 
 (All rights reserved.) 
 
" And yet, I swear, it angers me to see 
 How this fool passion gulls men potently; 
 Being, in truth, but a diseased unrest, 
 And an unnatural overheat at best. 
 How they are full of languor and distress 
 Not having it; which when they do possess, 
 They straightway are burnt up with fume and care, 
 And spend their lives in posting here and there 
 Where this plague drives them; and have little ease, 
 Are furious with themselves, and hard to please." 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Gone ! Wholly gone ! How cold and dark, 
 
 A cheerless world of hope bereft, 
 The beacon quenched, and not a spark, 
 In all the dull gray ashes left ! 
 
 No more, no more a living part 
 
 In life s contending maze to own; 
 Dead to its kind, an empty heart 
 
 Feeds on itself , alone ! alone! 1 
 
 G. J. WHYTE-MEI/VILLE. 
 
 So he was dead. Ruth Parker shivered and 
 drew her crape closer about her as the pano 
 rama of her life revolved. 
 
 Just a year ago she had gone away in the 
 night with only her maid, a young negress, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEBIRK. 
 
 and married Wythe Parker, a tall, handsome 
 man, of twice her years ; she was only seven 
 teen then. How frightened she was after the 
 ceremony ; but he tried to comfort her. What 
 ideal days they passed traveling! For only 
 one cause was her happiness overcast : when 
 as time went on, she still did not hear from 
 her mother, sisters, or brothers, her heart be 
 gan to grow heavy. 
 
 " They will never forgive me," she said. 
 Then Wythe Parker would laugh, and cheer 
 her up again. 
 
 Through many foreign lands they roamed. 
 Slowly he grew to neglect her, as old, bad 
 habits returned. Often she would grow faint 
 with homesickness, while she waited for her 
 husband s return until daybreak, when he 
 would rush in, stupid with wine. One night 
 he came back, looking tired and troubled. 
 " We must return to-morrow to the States," 
 he said, huskily ; " the tables are too much for 
 me. They were then at Monte Carlo. After 
 that the ocean voyage; the long journey 
 south, and the rest in New Orleans with his 
 aunt, a maiden lady, whose gentle soul was 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEBIRE. 
 
 filled with love for her dead brother s child. 
 Wythe Parker returned her love by wild 
 extravagances. One night a report reached 
 her that he was killed in a drunken brawl 
 in a gambling den. The news shocked the 
 poor lady so severely that she survived only 
 a few hours. When her will was read it was 
 found that she had bequeathed all her for 
 tune, consisting of cotton and sugar planta 
 tions, to her nephew, Wythe Parker. He 
 recovered from the wounds received that night, 
 but his disgrace was so great that he and his 
 wife had to flee New Orleans. Fate over 
 took him at Memphis, and there he died, 
 a victim to yellow fever. 
 
 Euth Parker felt as if God had forsaken 
 the town and all the poor souls there. She 
 could never forget the sullen boom of the can 
 non which was fired regularly to purify the air 
 of the streets, and the bonfires which burned 
 before each fever-stricken house, to indicate 
 contagion ; and then the bell of the death-cart, 
 and the monotonous cry of the man : " Bring 
 out your dead!" to be driven off and be 
 thrown in a ditch all together, before they 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE8IRE. 
 
 were cold. People died so fast that it was 
 hard work to bury them at all. She would 
 never forget the tramp of the men, as they 
 carried her husband s body away to be cast 
 in the trench with the others, while she lay 
 burning and tossing with fever. Ah, God ! 
 it was horrible! And she covered her face 
 with her hands and groaned. After she had 
 recovered, she telegraphed to her mother, Mrs. 
 Milson, in Virginia; and the answer was: 
 " Keturn at once, my child." And now she 
 was going home. She looked out of the 
 window of the rumbling old carriage, with 
 listless interest in her big, gray eyes, that 
 were set in the purple shadows which grief 
 lends. Her brown hair, under the little black 
 bonnet, waved away from the 1)road, serious 
 forehead, and lay in fluffy rings of russet about 
 the blue- veined temples. As they passed the 
 old, familiar scenes, she trembled, and drew 
 her veil closer about her. How different, alas ! 
 was her return from her going away. Some 
 little negroes were picking basketfuls of corn- 
 ears, tearing them from the tall stalks. The 
 sun was bright upon them, and they laughed 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 aloud, for they were happy. Tears rolled 
 slowly down the proud face, and the tender 
 mouth quivered piteously. She shrank closer 
 in the corner, for she did not want her maid 
 to witness her distress ; but the girl, a bacon- 
 colored negress, who had waited on her young 
 mistress ever since they were children to 
 gether, and quite unconscious of race or class 
 distinctions, was too busy noting the home 
 scenes as they whirled along to observe her 
 lady s tears. Poor Martha had been wofully 
 homesick during the journeys of the past year, 
 though she had suffered uncomplainingly, and 
 consoled herself by dreaming of " the ole folks 
 at home." They were passing through the 
 big gate where the ivy tree grew. 
 
 " l)o you remember, Martha, how we used 
 to sit up in the boughs of that old tree, while 
 I read you Hans Andersen s stories ?" asked 
 Kuth Parker. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Mis Rufe, and I nebber seen 
 de like since or afore. De way dat tree growed 
 into a sofey, wid de leaves and branches hidin 
 and a-screenin it from the sun and de out 
 siders !" 
 
 
10 THE SHADOW OP DE8IBE. 
 
 They both relapsed into silence as the trap 
 rolled up the long avenue, where wonderful 
 cherry-trees grew on either side all in fruit 
 now. Down at the foot of the fields, the 
 river gleamed in the sunshine, and beyond 
 stretched the glorious Chesapeake Bay. At 
 last they came in sight of the old house, stand 
 ing fair and kindly in the flower-laden garden, 
 with its doors wide open in welcome, like a 
 tried and true friend, with open arms to one 
 who is aweary. 
 
 It was a long, two-storied brick house, with 
 old-fashioned green blinds, and wide piazzas, 
 where twined honeysuckle, yellow and white 
 jasmine flowers, Virginia creepers and climb 
 ing roses. How tenderly they coiled round 
 one another, and with what sweet capricious- 
 ness they tumbled over one another about the 
 pillars and lattices. Great sprays and wreaths 
 of roses were swinging from the corners in 
 the breeze. On the steps of the porch, Betty 
 Milson, Kuth s eldest sister, and her two small 
 brothers, stood to receive her. As she saw 
 her sister s sweet face, pale with the happiness 
 of seeing her again, a lump came in her throat, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 11 
 
 and she laughed and wept hysterically, for it 
 was so good to be at home. 
 
 " Mother is waiting for you up in her room, 
 dear," said Betty, leading her up-stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Milson was one of those highly strung 
 little women who retire to their room with 
 nervous headache on the slightest provocation, 
 and had been seized with her usual attack 
 when she received Ruth s telegram. Ruth was 
 shocked to see how thin and pale her mother 
 had grown ; and she thought : " It is all my 
 fault." 
 
 "I have told them to prepare your old 
 room for you, my child ; and I hope you 
 you will soon forget and be your bright self, 
 my baby, again." 
 
 Mrs. Milson smoothed and caressed the 
 girl s soft hair as she was talking, and thought 
 with a bitter sigh of the plans she had made 
 for the future, and how they had been spoiled. 
 She had not been able to forgive her for a long 
 time; but after all a mother s heart, warm, 
 and loving, and true to infallible human in 
 stincts, had prevailed at last. 
 
 " Where is Mabel ?" inquired Ruth. Mabel 
 
12 THE SHADOW OF DEBIRE. 
 
 was the youngest girl, a clever, dark child, 
 fond of art and music. 
 
 " She is at school in Winchester ; we expect 
 her home for the holidays. Betty, take your 
 sister up to her room. We will have tea pres 
 ently out in the garden; but don t fatigue 
 yourself by coming down, unless you wish, my 
 dear." 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn t miss the garden, nor the 
 tea, for worlds, dear mother, 5 answered Ruth, 
 smiling back over her shoulder, as she went 
 out of the door. 
 
 In her room she found everything almost as 
 she had left it a year ago. How large, and 
 cool, and simple it looked, with the gray linen 
 drugget on the polished floor, the large, white 
 bed, and the windows and furniture covered 
 and hung with white muslin. Even the por 
 trait of her father, who had died when she 
 was a child, smiled back at her from the easel 
 on her dressing table. What was that faint, 
 delicious perfume that pervaded the place, 
 and made her senses swim with dreamy 
 memories? "Ah, how lovely!" And she 
 buried her face with a low, glad laugh, in a 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 13 
 
 bowl of white jasmine flowers, which stood on 
 a table near, placed there, no doubt, by Betty. 
 Close to them she found her favorite books. 
 "Yes, just as I left them!" she murmured. 
 She remembered the handkerchief she had 
 left in " Bleak House," as a marker, and 
 opened the book where the handkerchief was 
 yet lying. It was at the part where the officer 
 tells poor Joe to " move on, ,and the little 
 street sweeper answers wearily: "Fee allus 
 a-movin on," as he drags himself away. 
 
 " I seem to be allus a-movin on, too, Joe," 
 she whispered chokingly, as she closed the 
 book. 
 
 She changed her gown for a cool, black 
 grenadine, and fastened a spray of the jasmine 
 at her belt, before she went down to the garden. 
 It had been his favorite flower, for the dead 
 man held his power in the girl s heart yet. 
 
 What a slender, beautiful creature she was, 
 with her long, dainty hands and graceful out 
 lines. Some one had told her once that such 
 strong, tapering fingers were only given to 
 violinists. 
 
 Betty had made her mother quite comfort- 
 
14 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 able in an invalid chair, and was pouring out 
 tea when Ruth joined them. The boys were 
 giving Carlos a fine Spanish pointer cakes, 
 which he bravely swallowed, because he did 
 not wish to hurt their feelings, although he 
 detested sweets ; and besides, Carlos was quite 
 a diplomat, and knew he was dependent on 
 them for long rambles and mysterious hunts, 
 u which mother must not know about," cau 
 tioned Carroll, the eldest, with the face of a 
 girl and the heart of a woman (brave and 
 noble natures are always soft and tender). 
 
 Mrs. Milson stirred her tea slowly, and 
 talked to Ruth of many things. " After you 
 have rested awhile," she continued, "I think it 
 would be pleasant to go abroad for the autumn. 
 I can leave the children at school ; and Betty, 
 you, and I can spend a few delightful months 
 on the Continent and in England. I m so 
 tired of staying at home." 
 
 Mrs. Milson looked at her daughters for ap 
 proval, as she went on telling them her plans. 
 She was one of those restless women who 
 never seem happy unless they are roaming 
 about from one fashionable resort to another. 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 15 
 
 "But, mother, we have only been home 
 a few weeks; surely you are not bored so 
 soon !" exclaimed Betty, glancing anxiously at 
 Kuth, who cried out pleadingly : 
 
 "Ah, mother, don t go away! It is per 
 fectly ideal here in this " old-home " world of 
 ours, with its flowers, and woods, and the 
 river. I should like to vegetate here, where 
 one can die in peace. It is wretched business, 
 tramping around the globe forever." 
 
 Mrs. Milson smiles at such primitive senti 
 ments, and remains firm. She knows and fears 
 the monotony of a quiet life. She feels that 
 the demon of unrest, which has pursued her 
 all her life, is urging her to go somewhere 
 anywhere so she can get away from the stale, 
 dull plantation, the roses, and the tiresome 
 gleam of the waves out there. But above all, 
 she has her schemes. Euth is her only beauti 
 ful child ; and she gazes dotingly on the sad, 
 Madonna face. Her blood gives a little exul 
 tant leap, as she realizes that it is not too late 
 yet to consummate her ambitions. She smiles 
 to herself, and absently eats the heart out of 
 a sweet moss rose that Kuth has just picked 
 
16 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 for her ; and watches the willowy form of the 
 girl disappear down the long paths, followed 
 by Carlos, who seems immensely glad to see 
 her. What welcome is so spontaneous as a 
 dogs? 
 
 Ruth walked on the terrace at the end of the 
 flower garden. She had found it a marvelous 
 playground when she was a child, and would 
 romp about through the fields and woods, and 
 paddle barefooted in the creeks, and row on the 
 river with her friend and chum, Jack Carey. 
 
 There was a stone culvert, or ditch, running 
 along the sides of the terrace, with here and 
 there footbridges and steps, that were slippery 
 with green moss. Old-fashioned roses bloomed 
 in wild luxuriance on the sunny side, and 
 great fig trees flourished there. Ruth turned 
 cold when she remembered how she had mis 
 taken the head of a green tree-snake for a fig 
 one morning, and had tried to pick it, much to 
 his snakeship s astonishment. 
 
 In the culvert they bred terrapin, and Ruth 
 used to watch the impudent little frogs taking 
 a ride on their diamonded backs, as they swam 
 down to the stream, which wandered out 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 17 
 
 through the flags and water-plants to the river 
 below the fields. It was a paradise all about 
 there for snakes of many sorts ; but somehow 
 they had never hurt the children. Big yel 
 low and brown water moccasins would glide 
 in and out the lilies and rushes, to sun them 
 selves on the warm, sedgy banks. Ruth had 
 a cunning way of catching the young mocca 
 sins and putting them in bottles of water, so 
 she would watch their eyes gleam to better 
 advantage ; but she would always liberate 
 them, for she had a strange sympathy with 
 them. 
 
 On the terrace there was a wonderful old 
 well, very deep, and made roughly of stones 
 and bricks. The negroes said that it was two 
 hundred years old, or more. It was a fearful 
 place for nervous people, because so many 
 snakes thrived there. They would dart out 
 their pretty little heads from the rocky 
 crevices on the sides, and play about in the 
 water far below. Mrs. Milson had often 
 expressed a desire to fill the well up, but 
 Ruth would entreat her not to do so. She 
 had an uncanny habit of stealing there, and 
 
18 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 lying flat on the damp grass at the edge of the 
 well, and peering down into its shadows ; their 
 sinuous movements charmed her. It was a 
 famous garden for an imaginative girl to grow 
 up in. Perhaps Ruth had assimilated some 
 of her grace from the wild things and the 
 snakes. 
 
 " Good-night, Mis Eufe ; hopes yer sleeps 
 well ! " said Martha, giving the finishing 
 touches to the bed, and arranging a night 
 light and matches on a side table. Then she 
 went out of the room, leaving Ruth Parker 
 standing in her long night-gown at the open 
 window, gazing out into the silver night. Up 
 in the sky the moon rode, throwing her golden 
 smile over the thousands of sleepy flowers 
 which exhaled their drowsy perfume. Some 
 where in the trees a mocking bird was sing 
 ing, clearly and plaintively. It must have 
 fancied that the day had come, the moonshine 
 was so bright. 
 
 Ruth leaned far out on the window-sill, to 
 drink in all the beauty of the night. A long 
 garland swaying in the wind beat gently 
 against her hot cheeks. It was full of dew 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 19 
 
 and heavy with sweetness. " Oh, you beauti 
 ful jasmine flower love me love me, for my 
 heart is broken ! " she sobbed, as she caught 
 at the starry blooms and kissed them. 
 
 Far into the night the bird sang on, while 
 Ruth dreamed of days that had flown. " But 
 it s good to be at home, my lovely jasmine 
 flower it s good to be at home ! " was the 
 refrain of her thoughts before they passed 
 into dreams. 
 
 " And the jasmine flower in her fair young breast, 
 O, the faint, sweet smell of that jasmine flower ! " 
 
 OWEN MEREDITH. 
 
 
CHAPTEK IT. 
 
 " I looked at thee, and lo ! from face to feet, 
 I saw my tyrant, and I felt the beat 
 Of my quick pulse." 
 
 ERIC MACKAY. 
 
 THEY were lounging in a boat, Ruth and 
 Jack Carey, out on the river near the fields. 
 The lines lay idle in the water while the fish 
 ran off with the bait. The waves softly rocked 
 to and fro as they talked. 
 
 She had been at home a week now, and 
 friends had called for miles around to welcome 
 her. She was beginning to be stronger ; and 
 it all seemed so natural ; it was pleasant to 
 be with Jack Carey fishing, just as they had 
 done a hundred times before. His kind eyes 
 smiled at her, while he told her of his plans 
 and hopes for the future. They had been the 
 dearest of friends, she and this boy, all their 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 21 
 
 lives. He had called her " his little wife " in 
 the halcyon days ; and somehow she knew in 
 stinctively that his love had not gone away 
 from her, and that it had grown as the boy had 
 grown. 
 
 She listened lazily as he told her of his pro 
 motion in the law firm that he had entered ; in 
 four years he had every reason to believe 
 that he would be taken in as a junior part 
 ner. She was very glad, for she had always 
 been fond of him, although he was younger 
 than herself ; she passively accepted his ado 
 ration as a matter of course. How strong and 
 brown he had grown in the last year ! The 
 sun went down, turning their world into a land 
 of crimson glory ; lighting up the girl s face 
 and making it seem like a fair saint s. Jack 
 Carey noticed that the face had grown colder, 
 and that a new strange light was in her eyes 
 which had not shone there a year before ; and 
 he blamed the dead man for the transforma 
 tion. The air was becoming chilly, so he drew 
 up the anchor and quietly pulled ashore. Ruth 
 was so absent-minded that she nearly upset the 
 boat as she steered to the rocks by the side 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 of the landing. She was thinking with sad 
 regret that in a few days she would be off to 
 Europe, instead of drifting along adored by 
 this boy with his soul in his eyes, while he 
 demanded nothing absolutely nothing; and 
 she was grateful, for she was tired. Her great 
 est happiness was in her dreams at night, when 
 her dead came back, warm and 1 loving, and 
 pressed his spirit-face to hers, while outside the 
 shadows deepened under the sweet rose bushes, 
 and the bird sang in the jasmine. 
 
 Jack Carey ran the boat in, and made her fast 
 in the shelter. They walked along the shore, 
 then up through the fields over the bridge, and 
 on up through the garden to the house. In 
 the trees, soft twitterings from hundreds of 
 birds filled the twilight. They seemed to be 
 talking to each other in their sleep, with their 
 heads tucked under their ruffled wings. 
 
 Jack Carey s profile was silhouetted against 
 the saffron atmosphere. Ruth wondered, and 
 thought how strange it was that she could 
 never love the boy. How much better it 
 would have been otherwise! Regrets of 
 what avail are they? Regrets are like the 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 23 
 
 vultures in India which hover over the Tower 
 of Silence o the Parsees, inevitable and grue 
 some. 
 
 Up at the house the Dunston girls and 
 their father, the Colonel, were just taking 
 leave. They had ridden over ten miles, and 
 were greatly disappointed not to find Ruth 
 at home.j^ Mrs. Milson had coaxed them to 
 remain for awhile to rest, so they had been re 
 warded by Ruth s return. She and the Dun 
 ston girls had been at school together at 
 Winchester. When Ruth ran off with Wythe 
 Parker, all the girls gossiped fearfully, with 
 the exception of Mildred Dunston, a tall gypsy- 
 faced girl, who was Ruth s best pal at school. 
 Mildred had wept many a secret tear over 
 Ruth s fate, and felt a joyous and guilty relief 
 when she heard of her widowhood, and her 
 safe arrival home. The girls rushed into each 
 other s arms with queer little screams of de 
 light ; and after asking each other dozens of 
 questions, which neither waited to hear an 
 swered, they quieted down to rational conver 
 sation. It was settled with Colonel Dunston 
 to leave Mildred to stay with Ruth for a few 
 
24 THE SHADOW OP DEBIBE. 
 
 days, and for him to send on a box of clothing 
 the next morning. " But I can t, dearie ! I 
 have nothing with me but the habit I have 
 on," Mildred had ejaculated. " Oh, don t 
 bother ! We can fix you up beautifully," 
 answered Ruth. " We ll raid Betty s ward 
 robe for a gown, and you can wear rny slip 
 pers, I remember. So it was all arranged. 
 Why is it that girls are fascinated by such 
 Bohemianisms ? Why do they possess such 
 charm for them ? The Colonel and Kate Dun- 
 ston cantered off over the fields home. Kate 
 was the hoyden of the family, and took the 
 hedge, while her father soberly unlocked the 
 gate and walked his horse through like a sen 
 sible man. He did not approve of larking, 
 and only jumped when hounds were running. 
 Up in their room that night the girls talked 
 for hours. Mildred had only come out the last 
 winter when she left school. She was two 
 years older than Euth, and was engaged to 
 marry an Englishman, the Hon. Percy Hoi- 
 bourne, whom she had met at her aunt s 
 house in Fairfax County, where he had been 
 shooting the season before. It had all been 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 26 
 
 settled before poor Mildred knew what she 
 should do. They were to be married at St. 
 George s, Hanover Square, London, in March. 
 Her aunt had taken a house for the London 
 season, and they were going over to Paris soon 
 to attend to her trousseau, which was to be 
 very elaborate. They would spend the honey 
 moon in Norway and Sweden, and then re 
 turn to England, and go down to Mr. Hoi- 
 bourne s estate in H , where he had fine 
 
 shooting. Mildred talked in a dry, hard 
 voice, and brushed her heavy black hair in a 
 jerky, cruel fashion, like an automaton ; all 
 the while avoiding Ruth s pitying eyes, for 
 she did not want to break down and cry ; not 
 now, she thought ; it was too late ; and she 
 stoutly steeled herself against all emotion. 
 
 Ruth s pity and astonishment grew, as the 
 girl went on with her story. 
 
 She remembered how Mildred had loved 
 her cousin, Will Dunston. She recalled the 
 books they used to read together in the long 
 holidays. She could see Mildred in fancy 
 again, lying curled up in a hammock, with 
 Will Dunston stretched out on the grass with 
 
26 
 
 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE- 
 
 his head against the trunk of a tree. He 
 loved to tell them of his college sports, or 
 tease poor Mildred, as was his custom. Euth 
 remembered so well, one day three years ago, 
 "Will Dunston had taken them both out sail 
 ing on the beautiful bay, and frightened them 
 by making believe that he could not manage 
 the boat. She had never liked him, he had 
 such a bold stare in his black eyes ; but he had 
 to be tolerated, for was he not Mildred s lover ? 
 And she loved Mildred also; and girls are 
 very clannish. 
 
 " But, darling, I I thought "she hesitated, 
 her eyes filling with tears ; " I thought Will " 
 "Oh, yes, I know what you thought," an 
 swered Mildred passionately; "but it s all 
 over now. He does not love me, and aunt ob 
 jects to our marriage, because we are first 
 cousins. My marriage with Mr. Holbourne 
 is much more desirable. I shall be quite 
 ha PPJ> n doubt," A hopeless despair drooped 
 the corners of her mouth lower than ever. In 
 her eyes was the gleam of burning tears, which 
 looked as though they would never be shed. 
 A great fear fell upon Buth, as she cried, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE,, 27 
 
 " Oh, you mustn t, you shouldn t ! You don t 
 love that man, dear; you can t marry him! 
 Oh, it is horrible !" 
 
 " I have not only determined to marry him, 
 Ruth, but to be happy ; so there is no more to 
 be said about it." 
 
 "Where is "Will Dunston?" asked Euth 
 presently. 
 
 " He is in Washington, I believe. He sails 
 for England soon, and will probably be there 
 for my wedding," 
 
 She tried to speak indifferently, but Ruth 
 saw that it was a desperate struggle. Mildred 
 stretched her long, lovely arms above her head, 
 and yawned. The pain and excitement of the 
 confidences had fatigued her. Deep, dark 
 rings encircled her eyes; Ruth had not ob 
 served them before. u Don t you sleep well, 
 dear?" she asked. 
 
 "Sleep!" and Mildred laughed bitterly. 
 " Why, I sleep like a stone, dead and heavy, 
 without dreams. Even when I m awake, I 
 feel as though I m going through life fast 
 asleep. It is a strange, numb sensation but 
 a blissful one for me now," she said under her 
 
28 THE SHADOW OF DEBIKE. 
 
 breath, as she turned tenderly to Ruth and 
 kissed her good-night. " You must go to 
 bed, and to sleep, little one," she continued. 
 " You ve so many preparations to make for 
 your departure in the next few days, you 
 mustn t throw your beauty sleep away." She 
 lit the candle mechanically and went to her 
 room, 
 
 11 Good-night, Mildred, dear," Euth echoed, 
 as she thoughtfully brushed and fastened up 
 her hair. She left a penciled message for 
 Martha to call her at eight in the morning, 
 as she had many engagements for the next 
 day ; and crept into bed, drawing the sheets 
 close up to her chin. She was tired, and the 
 story of her friend filled her with sadness. 
 How cold the linen was! She cuddled up 
 closer ; but try as she could, sleep would not 
 come. Every little sound startled her. Her 
 whole nervous body was like an instrument 
 strung so tight it was in danger of breaking. 
 A long ribbon of moonlight lay across the 
 floor and the coverlet. Something ran dain 
 tily over the foot of the bed. She started 
 up terrified, but to her relief found that it 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIBE, 
 
 was only a tame mouse, a wee tiny thing, 
 that she had often fed with crumbs from her 
 morning roll. She lay down again, glad of 
 the companionship of even a mouse. A 
 long, low sob rang out through the night; 
 another and yet another. Some soul was in 
 mortal agony. Quietly slipping out of bed, 
 she listened in the darkness, cold and trem- 
 blingo 
 
 Some one was talking and sobbing horribly. 
 " Oh, Heavens ! it s Mildred ! she whispered, 
 going swiftly to the door of her friend s bed 
 room, which communicated with her own. She 
 hesitated for a moment, not knowing whether 
 to go in, or back to bed. 
 
 " Ah, come to me !" she heard Mildred sob 
 out. "Come to me, my darling, my darling! 
 Oh, God! just to be in your arms, and feel 
 that you love me, only once again, Will, only 
 once ! I m going mad. Come to me, love 
 me, Will!" 
 
 A cold terror came over Euth, as she list 
 ened to the girl s agony. She knocked gently 
 at the door, but received no answer. Every 
 thing was as quiet and still as the grave. 
 
 f TOT 
 
 
 
 .;3 TOT 
 
30 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 She turned the knob of the door and 
 went in. The moon lit up the room well 
 enough for her to see. Much to her surprise, 
 Mildred was in bed, apparently fast asleep. 
 She was clutching the lace of her night-gown, 
 and one arm was thrown over her head, half 
 buried in the thick tumbled hair. She crept 
 close to the bed and gazed anxiously in the 
 girl s face. It was wet with tears, and drawn 
 with pain. Her eyes were closed, but Ruth 
 saw by the nervous twitching of the lids that 
 she was not asleep. She turned sorrowfully, 
 and drew the curtains closer to exclude the 
 morning light, which was faintly glowing. She 
 felt an unseen presence in the room ; so she 
 crept out as she had come in, dreading to look 
 back for fear of seeing she did not dare to 
 whisper what, even to herself. Mildred never 
 knew that Ruth had found out that she was 
 awake. The harmless deception would perhaps 
 make her happier so Ruth assured herself. 
 
 "Alas 1 for sorrow is all the end of this. 
 Oh, Bad kissed mouth, how sorrowful it is 1" 
 
 SWINBURNE. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 " Beauty like her s is genius." 
 
 ROSKTTI. 
 
 ONE day in early spring, a year later, a man 
 was sitting at a table by the corner window 
 which overlooks the square at Delmonico s in 
 New York. The merry hum of conversation 
 from the people in the room almost drowned 
 the noise of the street traffic for him, as he 
 leisurely ate his lunch, and idly watched a 
 gardener setting out the beds of hyacinths 
 and crocuses below the window-sill, and the 
 varied crowd of guests coining and going. 
 
 He was a well-built man, dark, with full red 
 lips, very white teeth, and a heavy black mus 
 tache, which gave him rather a foreign appear 
 ance. The eyes were brown and keen, and the 
 hair near the temples was thin and sprinkled 
 with gray. 
 

 32 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 An observer would at once have pronounced 
 him a bon vivant and a sportsman, from the 
 evidence of his strong brown hands and square 
 shoulders. He was not really more than five 
 feet ten in height, but impressed one as being 
 much taller. This was Mr. Waldo Bronson, 
 a Baltimorean, a famous club man, a large 
 stockholder in most of the desirable things 
 afloat, and a friend of the Hon. Mrs. Hoi- 
 bourne, nee Dunston. 
 
 Looking towards the door he saw three peo 
 ple enter. One was Mrs. Milson, and another 
 Mrs. Parker, a slender, lovely woman whom 
 he had met in England a few months before. 
 He had wondered then at fate s irony in 
 bestowing the lot of widowhood on such a 
 mere child. The fact that she had interested 
 him strangely was annoying to him, as he did 
 not consider himself easily moved. The two 
 women were accompanied by Ralph Dawson, 
 a young Englishman. 
 
 Every one stared at the girl as she ad 
 vanced to a little table at the side ; and she 
 flushed with embarrassment. Waldo Bronson 
 arose hastily and went forward to greet the 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 33 
 
 party. He was shaking with nervousness as 
 he smiled down in the young girl s face, 
 which glowed like a blush rose. 
 
 "How glad I am to see you again, Mrs. 
 Parker ! " he said almost solemnly, in the 
 fervor of his earnestness. 
 
 " Oh ! you have me to thank, Bronson, for 
 your gladness " interpolated Kalph Dawson. 
 " I was the lucky dog who persuaded Mrs. 
 Milson and her daughter to return. They 
 were booked to cross soon anyway, but Mrs. 
 Parker assured me that it was comfy to 
 have a fellow like me around to wrap her 
 up in her chair on board ship, and fetch and 
 carry " rattled on Kalph Dawson. 
 
 "I presume you availed yourself of the 
 privilege of making the ladies comfy 
 answered Waldo Bronson enviously. 
 
 "Well, rather! * was the cheery, provoking 
 reply. 
 
 They all sat at the table with Waldo Bron 
 son. Ralph Dawson wanted to get a good 
 view of the room, for he delighted in all this 
 Americanism, and enjoyed many things that 
 his conservative father would have pro- 
 
34 THE 8HADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 nounced " impossible." As Euth Parker 
 slipped her gloves off, her slender hands 
 looked fresh and lovely, like pale pink China. 
 
 Waldo Bronson noticed them, and was 
 pleased that they were not of that blue 
 white which most of his fashionable friends 
 affected. 
 
 The sunlight that came in at the window, 
 gliding daintily through the prosaic room as 
 though it did not wish to be contaminated by 
 touching common clay, rested caressingly on 
 the nape of her neck, where it could entangle 
 itself with the loose locks of the curly hair. 
 
 She wore a deliciously simple gray gown, 
 showing more of the throat than was usual. 
 
 The white shine of her skin, with its faint 
 rose odor, filled him with sensuous pleasure. 
 
 He always associated her with roses, for he 
 remembered how she had worn a big bunch 
 of roses with a white gown when he had first 
 met her. 
 
 "We are to do many of the northern 
 resorts, Mr. Bronson," Mrs. Milson was say 
 ing to him. " Next week we shall stay with 
 the Greens at Lenox." 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 35 
 
 " And of course you must take in Newport, 
 Long Island, and all the other heavenly spots 
 which have been sealed by the four hundred, 
 said Ealph Dawson, with mock gravity. He 
 was rather a rebel against conventionality, and 
 dubbed dinners, dances, and all such functions 
 bores. His many friends explained this eccen 
 tricity by the fact that he was only in his ele 
 ment when lie was bestriding a horse, or shoot 
 ing. They were going to hear Alvary sing 
 "Siegfried," so Mrs. Milson hurried them off; 
 but not before Waldo Bronson had received 
 permission to call that night. 
 
 He helped them into a cab, and stood at 
 the restaurant door looking after them until 
 the yellow wheels rolled out of sight. 
 
 Then he turned to the gas jet in the 
 hall, lit his cigar, and walked up Fifth Ave 
 nue with a light, springy step, feeling twenty 
 instead of forty. He stopped at a florist s 
 shop. He must send her some roses only 
 roses for her to-day, he thought. The man 
 held up a bunch of glorious " Jacqueminots," 
 and then some " American Beauties ; " but 
 he put them aside. 
 
36 THE 8HADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 They were too big and red for his dainty 
 lady, so he ordered some delicious moss 
 roses : how fair they looked, lying in their 
 little nests of pale green moss ! He felt sure 
 she would like them, they were dainty, like 
 herself. A fever possessed him ; and he wan 
 dered into the club and sat down at the win 
 dow where he could get a good view of the 
 Avenue. Perhaps they would drive by on 
 their way to the hotel. It was just four 
 o clock ; if he hurried he might be in time 
 to catch a glimpse of her as she left the 
 Opera House : but a crowded thoroughfare 
 delayed him ; the doors were closed when he 
 arrived, and he turned back, bitterly dis 
 appointed. 
 
 The servant seemed to be an eternity that 
 night in taking his card up at the hotel to Mrs. 
 Milson and her daughter ; but he finally re 
 turned and led the way to the apartment. 
 They were staying at one of those huge 
 hotels uptown, whose height seems trying to 
 reach the stars, and where people are known 
 as 2918 or some such bewildering number, 
 and not by their name. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESTRB. 37 
 
 The sitting-room was cosy and half lighted. 
 On a table near the fireplace a lamp was burn 
 ing, and a lounge was drawn up by the log fire 
 which this child of the South had ordered 
 immediately on her arrival. She detested the 
 coldness and stiffness of detail of an hotel 
 parlor ; besides, she always liked wood fires ; 
 they spoke to her of many tender things, she 
 said, with a far-off look in her eyes, as she 
 watched the glowing coals tumbling in a heap, 
 and the cheery flames licking the fire-dogs. 
 She was wearing a clinging white crepe tea- 
 gown. His blood gave a little leap of intense 
 pleasure when he noticed that two or three of 
 his moss roses were fastened in the lace on 
 her breast. 
 
 " How nice it is of you to come such a dis 
 agreeable night," she said rising languidly 
 and giving him one of her tiny hands, which 
 he did not return quite at once. " Mother has 
 gone to bed ; she hasn t recovered yet from 
 the fatigue of the voyage." She smiled softly 
 up at him, and, bidding him sit near her in 
 the large chair, adjusted the white silk shade 
 of the lamp to a more comfortable angle. 
 
38 THE 8HADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 " The Opera was divine to-day ; I enjoyed 
 every moment of it " she continued. " Some 
 how Wagner always satisfies one when the 
 spirit is moody; and his music is so often 
 ]ike a grand benediction." 
 
 " 1 fancied you liked Italian music more," 
 he remarked. 
 
 " Oh, it all depends on how I feel ; woman 
 like, I m never sure of myself. Sometimes 
 it s one, and again another. I have even 
 known myself to hate both." She arose 
 nervously and tucked up higher a coil of 
 hair which was trying to escape. Then she 
 glided over to the window and looked out 
 into the night. It had grown colder ; and 
 one of those sudden little snow storms which 
 so often visit New York in the spring was 
 falling. He watched her every movement. 
 How like a snake she was in her slow grace ! 
 
 She turned away from watching the crowded 
 streets through the half-blurred window panes 
 on which the snow-flakes were irregularly 
 huddled, and walked over to the fireplace. 
 " What a fascinating life one must live if one 
 were a street Arab, or in fact any sort of Arab, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE6IBE. 89 
 
 BO one could be at liberty to wander at will 
 anywhere, or at any time. But I suppose," 
 she continued, reflectively, " that even Arabs 
 are held in bonds sometimes. * The lace fell 
 away from her arm, while she leaned on the 
 mantelpiece, revealing the blue veins under 
 the fair skin. With one little foot she nerv 
 ously kicked the logs until the sparks made 
 miniature fireworks up the chimney in a glit 
 tering shower. 
 
 " I have never seen you in this mood before, 
 Mrs. Parker!" said Waldo Bronson uneasily. 
 " No ? * she interrogated, he fancied sarcastic 
 ally ; and as she turned her eyes full on his, 
 he observed a curious haunted look in them 
 like that of some wild thing. 
 
 "Is it unusual to long to be an Arab ? I 
 suppose it is. How droll !" she said laughingly, 
 and nestled down on the cushions of the sofa 
 with her arms curved over her head. " Well !" 
 she went on mischievously, "let us suppose 
 I m a seagull to-night. What a glorious time 
 I would have flying ahead of the storm, faster, 
 faster than the snow, waves, or clouds with 
 only the wind for company. I used to watch 
 
 / 
 
40 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 the seagulls from the ship and envy them 
 their flight." 
 
 Waldo Bronson became restless. He did not 
 approve of uncanny imaginations, for he did not 
 understand that no matter how thoroughly 
 some natures may be modified by culture, yet 
 the spirit of some unknown power perhaps he 
 reditary, or surviving from a past existence 
 will fill them with an indescribable desire to 
 do impossible things. 
 
 " I shouldn t fancy being a seagull" he 
 said shivering. " Just fancy sleeping on a 
 rough wave such a night as this !" 
 
 " It would be rather damp, wouldn t it ? * 
 and she laughed a little sharp laugh, which 
 made him more uncomfortable than ever. 
 
 " Why do you complain of not being free 2 
 You can go where you please. You have 
 nothing to hold you, and need only consult 
 your own inclinations." He was a bit fright 
 ened after he had said it, for she gave him a 
 quick, curious glance, and shrugged her shoul 
 ders. 
 
 " Oh, of course that s what everyone says 
 to me. I have learned not to expect anything 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 41 
 
 but the conventional. I think I should die 
 out of pure astonishment if any of my friends 
 developed anything beyond mediocrity. Just 
 imagine," she went on rapidly, " the engage 
 ments I must keep, simply because I m sup 
 posed to be a civilized young woman, and must 
 do as other young women do who are civilized ; 
 and because I must be civilized, I have a wild 
 longing to be a savage." 
 
 Waldo Bronson smiled and said : u I can 
 see you in fancy, in the privacy of your room, 
 with cold cream and powder plastered on your 
 poor, sunburnt little nose." 
 
 She laughed merrily at the picture. u I m 
 sure I would, after two days only in my savage 
 kingdom. She began to hum the bird song 
 from li Siegfried," although her thoughts were 
 far away from the poor imprisoned soul in the 
 bird. A servant brought in a card, from which 
 she read aloud the name of " Mr. Ralph Daw- 
 son." "How fortunate, he s just in time to 
 prevent our quarrelling about my savage ten 
 dencies" she said. 
 
 Waldo Bronson leaned forward eagerly, his 
 eyes bright with excitement, saying in a low 
 
42 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 voice : " Ah, please say you are gone away, 
 dead, or anything ; but don t let that wretched 
 boy come up to-night ! You can be undisputed 
 queen of all the savages on land or sea, as far 
 as I m concerned," he cried, " if you will only 
 permit me to be with you ! " 
 
 A serious expression stole over her sweet 
 face as he talked. Turning to the servant who 
 was waiting at the door, she told him to tell 
 the gentleman that she could not receive him 
 that night. Then she turned to Waldo Bron- 
 son. " I must send you away, also, Mr. Bron- 
 son. Good-night! It s growing late. The 
 savage mood has passed. I m only Ruth now." 
 He took her hands suddenly and held her 
 far away from him, so as to be able to enjoy 
 all the more the beautiful vision. " Only 
 Ruth ! " he echoed with strong emotion. 
 "Why, you are a woman made to be wor 
 shipped ; a woman made for love. Men will 
 remember the sound of your voice, the shine 
 of your eyes, and the perfume of your hair, 
 always always. Ah, my queen ! I would 
 die to-night for just a moment s possession of 
 you. It would mean so much to me ! He 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 43 
 
 drew her to his heart before she could resist ; 
 and she lay there, crushed and passive. She 
 never knew or understood why she did not 
 resent such sudden wooing, and often mar 
 veled and regretted that she did not send him 
 away and thus prove kinder to him in the end. 
 The sense of his power over her filled her with 
 peace and calm satisfaction for the moment ; 
 perhaps that was why. They talked on for a 
 long time. He threw some fresh logs on the 
 fire, which sent up bright flames, in whose 
 light her pale face and gown seemed ethereally 
 transformed. 
 
 " Promise me, little one, that we shall be mar 
 ried as soon ah, as soon as possible ! We will go 
 through the West and through the Rockies this 
 summer. You would like that?" he interrogated. 
 
 "Yes, yes," she murmured like one in a 
 dream. " It will all be so new and delightful. 5 
 Then suddenly a frivolous mood came over 
 her, as it often did, and she clapped her hands 
 childishly. " Why, that will be an excuse to 
 throw over all those charming old engage 
 ments. How jolly ! Why, I d marry if only 
 to have that happiness." 
 
44 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 "When we are married, darling, you 
 musn t make engagements unless you wish. 
 You must do just as you desire with me and 
 everyone else. I m sure they would be only 
 too willing ! " he said fondly. 
 
 So it was all arranged; and they were 
 quietly married a few weeks afterwards. Mrs. 
 Milson was well pleased with her daughter s 
 choice, and returned to the old home in Vir 
 ginia, quite content with her 
 campaign. 
 
 " So with the world, thy gentle ways, 
 Thy grace, thy more than beauty, 
 Shall be an endless theme of praise, 
 And love a simple duty. " 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 * There by so remote a fountain, 
 
 That whichever way one wandered, 
 League on league, one yet should never 
 See the face of man." YAMI. 
 
 THEY were all standing in the waiting-room 
 of the hotel at Glenwood Springs, Colorado 
 a charming town in the Rockies waiting for 
 the bronchos, Mexican ponies, to come around 
 from the corral. The party consisted of Ruth / 
 and her husband, Mrs. Rowe, a little widow 
 from Denver, Mr. and Mrs. Laddimer, Mrs. // 
 Shirley, and her handsome bachelor brother, / 
 Tom Edmonson characterized mainly by his / 
 sporting instincts, and three college boys, /// 
 all from Boston ; also a fair young man with j 
 a beautiful mustache, which might have caused 
 many a burning envious heart-throb to even 
 an Austrian officer one of those who af- 
 
46 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 feet marvelous straw-colored mustaches, which 
 they tie at the back of their heads on 
 windy days. 
 
 The group was completed by Mr. and Mrs. 
 Olney, who had asked them all to come and 
 stay with them for two weeks at Trappers 
 Lake, for the shooting ; and who had come 
 to meet them at Glenwood Springs, and to 
 conduct them thence to their destination. 
 They were all to ride up the trail, lunch 
 in the great wood about fifteen miles beyond, 
 sleep under the stars that night, and reach 
 the lake the next day at noon. Each person 
 was allowed fifty pounds of luggage, which 
 was strapped on pack mules; and everyone 
 followed in Indian file up the dangerous path. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Olney were so fond of sport them 
 selves that they fancied everyone else equally 
 afflicted ; for what is a greater affliction, pray, 
 than a love of sport and horses ? particularly 
 if one has social tendencies also. In Feb 
 ruary and March one is expected to go to 
 Monte Carlo, when one wishes to cling on 
 to the tag end of the winter hunting. In 
 April and May one is expected to do the 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 47 
 
 London season, when one s heart is with the 
 deer in the New Forest. In July and Au 
 gust one is expected to be in the country, 
 giving monotonous garden parties and occu 
 pying one s self with similar inanities, when 
 one s blood is tingling at the prospect of 
 hunting the stag on Ex-moor. Or else one 
 lets one s self be tempted to go yachting or 
 boating on " the river," when one wants a bit 
 of shooting in Scotland in late August and 
 September, longing to tramp about the rough 
 heather-grown hills, after the birds, and breathe 
 in from the rare pure air new strength and 
 youth. Then the cubbing in the autumn ! 
 What fascinating days Mrs. Olney had cub 
 hunting in Yorkshire, while staying at Scar- 
 boro , a seaside resort which she found per 
 fectly enjoyable ; for she knew and loved every 
 spot within walking or driving distance of the 
 place, where she had spent two happy seasons. 
 Those hunting mornings she would get 
 up early, so early that she would take her egg 
 and cocoa by candle light; jump into her 
 habit, and then drive through the misty half- 
 light for fifteen and often twenty miles to the 
 
48 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 meet of Captain J a foxhounds. The fog 
 
 was so dense very often that she could hardly 
 see her horse s head, as she spun rapidly along 
 in her little American buck-board. She felt 
 as though she were flying through a mother- 
 of-pearl sea, and the clumps of trees seemed 
 like ghostly islands, in the weird effect of the 
 swift movement and the strange light. How 
 she enjoyed driving her little team of Yermont 
 Morgan cobs, which they had brought over 
 with them from America. She knew every 
 road through the woods, and over the breezy 
 moors, all blooming with pink, white, and 
 purple heather ; while the North Sea sparkled 
 cheerily far down below. 
 
 She was never tired of exploring that beau 
 tiful Yorkshire country. When the real hunt 
 ing began, and she went down into the Shires 
 where she hunted regularly, she never forgot 
 the happy days at Scarboro , and the " brush * 
 that the gallant huntsman presented to her. 
 Somehow, the rough hills of Yorkshire re 
 minded her of the foot-hills in Colorado. 
 
 But to return to my narrative. On their 
 way up the mountains, the guest party passed 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 49 
 
 by the natural hot mineral springs, which are 
 so large that hundreds of people can swim in 
 them. They are just at the entrance of Glen- 
 wood Springs, and the Indians used to bathe 
 there, before they were driven into the Reser 
 vation, firmly believing that they would be 
 cured of every ailment, and delivered from 
 all evil spirits. 
 
 They also passed the caves about a mile or 
 so out, and everyone insisted on going in to 
 explore them. Ruth had wandered off thought 
 lessly from the others, when suddenly a gust 
 of wind blowing from some unknown channel 
 extinguished her candle. The cave she was 
 in was very large and dark ; only a faint 
 glimmer of daylight came in through a chink 
 in the rocks far above her head. Somewhere 
 in the frightful shadows she heard water drip 
 ping, and it seemed to her as if it were the 
 tears of some poor lost soul imprisoned and 
 doomed to eternal solitude there. With this 
 sound mingled that curious gurgling hum 
 made by a subterranean stream. 
 
 As she crept along cautiously, for fear of 
 falling into some fathomless pit, she heard her 
 

 50 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 husband calling " Ruth ! Ruth, where are 
 you ? " Her tongue was so parched with a 
 nervous dread that she could not answer for a 
 moment, but stumbled along blindly in the 
 darkness, till she reached the opening of the 
 cave, and half fell out on to the stony ledge, 
 where she found all her friends waiting for 
 her. Quickly mounting, she rode on after 
 Pattison, the guide, a tall muscular Westerner, 
 with keen, merry blue eyes, and an inexhausti 
 ble fund of anecdotes. The horses cantered 
 along up to their cinches, sometimes, in blue 
 bells and other wild flowers ; and then again 
 crawled stealthily around a narrow trail at 
 the corner of a precipice, while thousands of 
 feet below the giant trees looked like mere 
 toys. 
 
 " I should think it would be impossible to 
 describe all the grand beauty of Colorado" 
 Ruth remarked to her host, causing him to 
 flush with pleasure, for he was a staunch devo 
 tee of the Rockies. 
 
 " Oh ! you must wait until you get higher 
 up before you realize the full grandeur of our 
 scenery. You may then understand why it 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 51 
 
 fascinates so many people who are weary of 
 the world" was his answer. 
 
 " You do not seem very world-weary, Mr. 
 Olney!" said Buth, flashing on him an ad 
 miring smile, which rather upset him for the 
 moment. He did not know how to take this 
 woman, as he had never seen anyone quite 
 like her before. 
 
 " No ! far from it" he replied. " As a mat 
 ter of fact, I m brimful of worldly interest 
 running over with it, indeed ; but I can 
 quite sympathize with a man flying to the 
 heart of this lovely wilderness to get away 
 from the turmoil and vanities of life." 
 
 Ruth looked wonderingly out of the corners of 
 her long gray eyes at this man, who every one 
 thought lived only for money ; she was glad 
 to find that he had been misjudged. 
 
 " Why, we shall probably meet a trapper be 
 fore we reach camp," he continued, " who I am 
 sure has a story, and no uncommon one either. 
 He has been living in a dug-out in the White 
 River Valley for the last five years, with only 
 his rifle and an old collie as companions. He 
 is the queerest sort, and never speaks to a liv- 
 

 52 THE SHADOW OF DKSIBK. 
 
 ing soul, unless you come across him unexpect 
 edly, and he can t help himself." 
 
 " But how does he live ? One must be pro 
 visioned you know" cried Ruth, becoming 
 practical. 
 
 " Oh, very comfortably, I believe. Four or 
 five times a year the guides who trade at the 
 Springs bring him canned things and the rude 
 necessaries of life, and he repays them in 
 furs. They say he hates civilization, and 
 nothing can induce him to come out of his 
 hermitage." 
 
 They were loping in a go-as-you-please 
 fashion, over a mesa. The mountains rolled 
 over one another in the distance like big bil r 
 lows of a mighty sea. A solitary eagle poised 
 for a second in the air, far above their heads, 
 and majestically sailed away. 
 
 Ruth, as she idly watched it, ceased to think 
 of what Mr. Olney had just told her about 
 the recluse, and to wonder what was the trag 
 edy in his life ; and began to speculate as to 
 whether after all there was any truth in the 
 doctrine of reincarnation. 
 
 " How I envy that bird his flight ! What 
 
THE 8HADOW OP DESIRE. 53 
 
 a delicious sensation it must be to be float 
 ing in the heavens at one s own will" she 
 said, as the clever little horses picked their 
 way over a prairie-dog village. 
 
 " Perhaps he is the soul of some great ge 
 nius. See how he defies the sun, and with 
 what disdain he circles above us." 
 
 "I think all those advanced theories mad 
 dening! ejaculated Mr. Olney, feeling curi 
 ously vexed with the girl, for he was one 
 of those men who did not approve of isms 
 for women. Mrs. Shirley had once remarked 
 to her friend, Mrs. Laddimer (Mrs. Shirley 
 was from Boston), " Poor Mr. Olney is always 
 bored with women when they go into deep 
 water. I believe he thinks he is in danger of 
 drowning every time I open my mouth." 
 
 u It is rather large, dear !" sweetly replied 
 Mrs. Laddimer; and Mrs. Shirley felt as 
 though her fur had been stroked the wrong 
 way. Little things go to make up the sum of 
 life. Mrs. Shirley was not only very hand 
 some, but very brainy ; and her friend annoyed 
 her by insisting on misunderstanding all her 
 bright remarks. Not through any evil mo- 
 
54 THE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 
 
 tive though ; but she, being also a witty Bos- 
 tonian, liked to cross swords with her friends, 
 to see the sparks fly. 
 
 They rode into camp just before twilight. 
 Pattison, the guide, gave a wild whoop of de 
 light when he first saw the faint blue curl of 
 the smoke of the camp-fires coming up through 
 the trees. He galloped down the valley, fol 
 lowed close by Ruth and all the others in the 
 merriest helter-skelter. It was all so pictur 
 esque to Ruth, for it was the first real camp 
 scene she had ever witnessed. 
 
 The place where the tents were pitched for 
 the night, selected by the guides who had 
 been sent on in advance, was a small dell, blue 
 with gentians ; and near by, a cold, clear 
 brook leaped and brawled down the mountain 
 side. 
 
 The tent for the women was pitched against 
 some giant pines ; and in front of it a huge 
 log fire burned. Some yards off, the horses 
 were tethered to long ropes, so they could not 
 stray off too far while they ate the sweet wet 
 grass and wild oats all through the night. 
 
 Over in the shelter of some rocks another 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 55 
 
 fire burned, and around it crouched the trap 
 pers cooking supper. They all hurriedly dis 
 mounted, and the men quickly ungirthed the 
 horses to make them comfortable, before at 
 tending to anything else as is the unwritten 
 law and custom in that land of promise. A 
 large blanket was spread near the fire, on 
 which everyone sat in Turkish fashion, and 
 ate delicious trout fresh caught from the 
 brook ; elk steak ; and hot rolls, with which 
 they drank coffee. Ruth complimented 
 Wheeler, the camp cook, and begged for more 
 helpings. She was as " hungry as a hunter, * 
 and excited with the novelty. Soon after sup 
 per they all rolled themselves up in their 
 blankets, and slept ; for they had to make an 
 early start the next morning. One of the 
 trappers was left on guard to keep up the fire 
 during the night ; that was to frighten off any 
 wild beasts coming down from the mountains 
 and prowling around. The man, after smok 
 ing his pipe, lay down by the fire, fatigued 
 with his long day s journey. Ruth was lying 
 tucked up in a fur sack, next to Mrs. Shirley ; 
 all the women in the tent were sleeping ex- 
 
56 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 cept herself. Sitting up, she watched her 
 friends peacefully dreaming, rolled up in their 
 blankets. She fancied that she would like to 
 go outside, and gaze into the lonely mysteri 
 ous night. Cautiously getting up she put 
 aside the flap of the tent, and walked over to 
 the fire to feel the warmth of the glowing 
 coals. The guide was fast asleep, his 
 brown face darkened in the dying firelight. 
 The shadows beyond grew and deepened. 
 Ruth imagined she saw fiery eyes staring at 
 her from out the darkness. 
 
 The pines stood up noble and solemn, until 
 they almost touched the black-blue sky where 
 the stars gleamed in splendor. How near the 
 earth the stars seemed ; aod so many, so many, 
 and such large stars! Euth thought that if 
 she could only climb that great pine, she might 
 reach that star which came so near its highest 
 branches. Off in the depths of the forest she 
 could hear the strange low cry of some wild 
 beast ; and near by, the three short barks of 
 the timber wolf ; another, and then another 
 until all the night was an echo of their deso 
 lation. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 57 
 
 Shivering, she quickly fled back to the tent, 
 and tied the flap securely, for fear the poor 
 hungry brutes would try to get in, although 
 Pattison had assured her that they never ap 
 proached a fire ; but nevertheless she was 
 afraid, and listened to their sharp barks all 
 through the night. 
 
 The fire flared up fitfully and went out, just 
 as the valley around grew gray with dawn; 
 and she too slept. 
 
 1 Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt 
 In solitude, where we are least alone." 
 
 BYRON. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 * After touch of wedded hands, 
 After travel in strange lands." 
 
 MOHCKTON MILNES. 
 
 THE camp was astir as daylight broke over 
 the mountains. Men were calling out to each 
 other and getting the pack-mules ready. One 
 queer little Indian pony, that the guides had 
 dubbed " Forkie" because his ears had been 
 slit in his youth like a two-pronged fork, 
 was manifesting serious objection to the duties 
 of life. 
 
 It was his fate to carry the cooking uten 
 sils; and every time they were tied on his 
 back, he would deliberately roll over and rub 
 them off, much to the amusement of the guests. 
 It was a glorious morning; all the wild -flowers 
 and woods were silvered with a slight frost, 
 although it was the middle of August ; but 
 the sun soon made the air balmy, and sweet 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 59 
 
 perfumes from thousands of the flowers of 
 that bountiful and beautiful land floated 
 around. 
 
 After an ideal ride further and further up 
 into the fastnesses, and around the corner 
 of a jagged cliff, they came suddenly upon 
 Trappers Lake. 
 
 Ruth was awed by the majesty and beauty 
 of the spot. The Lake scintillated and flashed 
 in the sun like a great fire- opal set in millions 
 of sapphires and other precious stones. 
 
 Giant trees loomed around, and leaned 
 against the mountains like eternal sentinels, 
 grim, true, and never sleeping ; so jealous were 
 they in their vigilance. 
 
 The many tender greens of the firs and 
 spruces, and the quivering gleam of the silver 
 poplars and aspens, made fair smiling breaks 
 in the gloom here and there ; while huge red, 
 yellow and gray rocks stood out boldly from 
 the leafy shadows. 
 
 Trappers Lake is in the heart of the 
 Rockies. It is there whejre the brook trout 
 breed ; and deer, elk, mountain sheep, bear, 
 and other wild creatures come down to drink. 
 
 SIT 7] 
 
60 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 On the shore of the Lake Mr. Olney had 
 built three large comfortable log cabins ; each 
 one contained two rooms. One cabin was the 
 kitchen and dining-room, another was the 
 sleeping-room for the men, and the gun-room. 
 
 A little way up a hill was the cabin for the 
 ladies. 
 
 One room they all slept in, and the other they 
 transformed into a most comfortable sitting- 
 room, hung with hammocks, and adorned with 
 bits of bright calico, Indian rugs, and tin cans 
 cunningly arranged, and filled with wild-flow 
 ers and grasses. 
 
 Everyone improvised something. At night 
 when logs were blazing in the large stone fire 
 places, and candles were burning above it, 
 they would all congregate around the hearth 
 and tell of what sport they had had that day, 
 while outside the wild beasts and the wind 
 would howl in chorus. 
 
 -Sometimes one of the boys would play the 
 banjo, and everyone would sing college songs ; 
 or they would pass away the hour between 
 supper and bed time with cards or some sort 
 of game. 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 61 
 
 What a perfect Lotus land it was ! The 
 savage lullaby of the wilderness was much 
 more effective than chloral in inducing sleep 
 there. 
 
 It was a royal camp-life. Mr. Olney had 
 sent in many sorts of luxuries on pack-ani 
 mals, but of course the fresh meat had to be 
 shot ; and this necessitated hard work in that 
 rough land ; but it afforded the sporting ones 
 much joy, for nothing could exceed the keen 
 pleasure of those long tramps after the game 
 with which the country abounds. 
 
 All the men had good luck, so they said. 
 
 Mrs. Shirley was very fond of landing the 
 wily trout ; and she, Mrs. Laddimer and Kuth 
 had great success with the line. The silvery 
 darlings would steal in and out of the still, 
 clear, shadowy coves, and then dart up like a 
 flash of moonshine to the fly. How Ruth 
 loved to play them (she was beginning to love 
 to play men too), until weak and exhausted 
 she landed them in the little canvas boat, or 
 flung them high up on the mossy bank where 
 she would walk and cast. 
 
 Sometimes Mr. Olney and his party would 
 
62 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 make excursions to the higher peaks which 
 were covered with snow, and take luncheon, 
 sitting Turk fashion around a fire. 
 
 One day they went up to see the a Devil s 
 Causeway," so called by the mountaineers be 
 cause it is a narrow crossing only a foot wide 
 in some places, and fifty feet long. It is situ 
 ated between two of the highest peaks in the 
 mountains. They all rode up on bronchos, 
 and when they came to the dangerous cross 
 ing, dismounted, walked to the edge of the 
 precipice, and gazed down into the awful 
 depths with awe. Hoydenish Mrs. Olney ran 
 across as nimbly as a wild goat, much to her 
 husband s distraction, and waved a challenge 
 to Buth and Mrs. Shirley from the opposite 
 peak to join her; whereupon Mrs. Shirley, 
 with sturdy New England determination shin 
 ing in her blue eyes, held her breath for a 
 moment, and then walked safely over to her, 
 followed by Buth, who hated the idea of the 
 horrible distance far down below them on 
 either side; but she kept a " stiff upper lip," 
 and eyes fixed straight ahead. Yet she almost 
 fainted through sheer relief when she grasped 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 the helping hand which her kind little hostess 
 held out to her. Then the three women 
 laughed defiantly at their nervous cavaliers on 
 the other side, until the laugh became almost 
 a gurgle of despair in their throats, as they 
 remembered that they had to retrace their 
 steps over that dreadful chasm. How white 
 and pure it all was up there, and how close to 
 them stooped the caressing clouds ! The busy 
 world seemed far away. 
 
 Ruth wished that she could be alone there, 
 for hers was a selfish nature in such moments. 
 
 She took the keenest delight in perching on 
 some isolated spot near the lake, and dream 
 ing, dreaming of the love and infinite sym 
 pathy, and the tender protection of her lion- 
 hearted husband. So one might guess, to 
 look at her sweet, fair face ; but perhaps I 
 only say perhaps she might have been dream 
 ing of something else ; something less desira 
 ble. 
 
 Euth was slowly undergoing a transforma 
 tion through contact with the limited, narrow 
 disposition of her very excellent and devoted 
 husband. Above all, she was aware of the 
 
64 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 contradiction of his nature to her own essen 
 tially feminine one. Waldo Bronson chafed 
 and rebelled against the knowledge that he 
 was not all sufficient to his wife. He was not 
 broad enough in his worldly experience, even 
 at forty-three years of age, to realize that 
 women like Ruth require constant change of 
 companions, climate, and mode of thought to 
 keep them alive and bright. He grieved 
 sometimes because she was cold ; then he be 
 came more devoted than ever, not knowing 
 that it was intercourse with the world, and ex 
 change of intellectual sympathies, for which 
 she was unconsciously pining. 
 
 She was recalled from dreamland by Mrs. 
 Shirley, who had discovered in a sunny corner 
 some blue gentians with a strange new per 
 fume. The gentians in the East have no 
 scent, but the Colorado gentians around Trap 
 pers Lake are of an overpowering sweetness. 
 
 The three women gathered some of the 
 flowers, then quietly walked over to the other 
 side of the " Devil s Causeway " to where the 
 men were impatiently awaiting them. Some 
 how Ruth did not so much dread the return 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 65 
 
 as she had done the first crossing. It was 
 perhaps with this as with all of life s novel 
 ties ; the fascination of danger soon wears off. 
 
 They all loped slowly back to the lake 
 through the snow, by the shadowy Indian 
 trail of the forest. 
 
 The next afternoon, Ruth and her husband, 
 Pattison and another stalwart trapper set out 
 on horseback to shoot deer and elk, carrying 
 their cooking utensils and bedding on two 
 pack-mules as usual. 
 
 Until almost sundown they pressed on up 
 the White River Yalley and over the range. 
 
 Pattison encamped about a mile from a 
 deer-lick, a marshy place where the deer come 
 in the dim, gray mornings to drink. After 
 the usual simple supper, they "turned in" 
 under the stars, with the exception of Ruth, 
 for whom the others bent down the branches 
 of a small tree, and threw over it some canvas 
 to keep off the frost, which falls heavily in 
 that country at all seasons ; and they slept as 
 one can only sleep in that country, until the 
 first faint gray streaks of dawn appeared. 
 Quickly dispatching coffee and bacon, which 
 
66 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 is the main stand-by of that camping life, they 
 shouldered their rifles and marched one after 
 another, with as little noise as possible. After 
 a circuitous walk of a mile or so, they ap 
 proached the deer-lick. 
 
 In about fifteen minutes Pattison s " Sh " 
 called their attention to the brow of the hill, 
 where some deer were calmly grazing. One 
 big buck came trotting slowly down towards 
 the marsh. Ruth s heart beat fast as she took 
 a steady aim at him. For the moment she was 
 conscious only of the kick of the rifle ; and 
 next at the sight of the poor wounded animal 
 as he staggered on for a few yards, and then 
 fell amongst the bushes, as the men rushed up 
 to him. 
 
 Was it her sentimentality, or only natural 
 womanly weakness, she could not tell ; but 
 when the dying creature turned its big, sor 
 rowful eyes up to her appealingly, it seemed 
 to her as if the look in them was like that in 
 Jack Carey s those sad, brown eyes which 
 had gazed at her so pleadingly when she went 
 to Europe, before her second marriage ; never 
 could she forget them. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 67 
 
 On pulling out her knife to cut the beast s 
 throat, her hand fell nerveless at her side. She 
 was ashamed of her weakness, but powerless to 
 resist it. Her husband, with the unimpas- 
 sioned eye of a hunter, was eagerly watching 
 her ; and when she hesitated he stooped down 
 and gave the deer a home thrust : then the 
 men swung it across their shoulders on a pole, 
 and carried it back to camp. 
 
 All that day they stalked the mountains for 
 elk ; and at last Waldo Bronson, who was in 
 advance, brought down a noble one, the king 
 of the herd. Then they packed the elk and 
 deer on the extra mule, and returned to the 
 lake by dark. On the way back Pattison 
 shot several brace of tree-grouse with a 
 revolver. 
 
 McNerney, the man who had built the cab 
 ins and rafts, was a tall, broad-shouldered 
 blonde, the perfection of manly beauty, with 
 a clear-cut face and frank blue eyes, which 
 filled Ruth s artistic soul with admiration. 
 
 One morning while he was rowing her, as 
 she trolled for trout, she remarked to him, 
 * You remind me so much in appearance of 
 
68 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Adam Bede ; he was a carpenter, too, you 
 know." 
 
 McNerney looked up at her swiftly as he 
 bent his giant form to the oars, while a bright 
 color mounted his sunburnt face. " Adarn 
 Bede without the motive or voice perhaps 
 you mean," he replied. 
 
 Ruth noticed that his eyes had darkened 
 with emotion, and she felt embarrassed at the 
 thought that perhaps she had been too per 
 sonal. "Oh, no! I only meant a physical 
 resemblance," she said. They did not con 
 tinue the conversation ; but she learned after 
 wards that the carpenter s tent was full of 
 books, the classics dominating ; and she never 
 realized so strongly before or since that time 
 what strange phases of life were to be met 
 with in her native land. 
 
 They all rode back to Glenwood Springs a 
 day or two after, and went on to Denver by 
 the midnight express. 
 
 After enjoying a week in the charming lit 
 erary and musical circles of Denver, Ruth and 
 her husband bade all her acquaintances good 
 bye, and journeyed on to New York, where she 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 69 
 
 was booked to sail for England on the " Majes 
 tic." Her old schoolmate, Mildred, had invited 
 her to spend a month or so with her in her new 
 home, and she was eager with the anticipation 
 of it, and yearned feverishly to have the old 
 girlish exchange of confidences, with one who 
 had been born under the same Southern moon 
 with herself; but she had another motive, 
 that of a sacred duty to perform. She wished 
 to help Mildred to regain her womanhood and 
 strength of purpose amid the new complica 
 tions and difficulties of her recent life. 
 
 The guardian angel exists in every woman ; 
 no matter how many caprices she herself may 
 indulge in, she loathes the signs and the cruel 
 lines with which passion marks and mars the 
 faces and souls of her dear ones. 
 
 Woman is instinctively a mother, from the 
 time when she croons softly to her first doll, 
 until the happy time comes around (if it ever 
 does alas !) when the doll has become a soft, 
 living, breathing atom of humanity ; and a 
 great, overwhelming joy turns her young milk 
 sweet; and her loving eyes shine with the 
 grandeur of maternity. Kuth felt that noble 
 
70 THE BHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 instinct stir, when she received a pitiable letter 
 from Mildred, of which the following is a 
 portion : 
 
 "What a day and night I ve had, dear 
 Ruth ! Stupid in one way, and yet gay in 
 another, if you look at it in a worldly or 
 more truthfully speaking county way. Peo 
 ple to lunch, crowds to tennis and tea ; a hur 
 ried toilet and a rush to a dinner about seven 
 miles off. Lodge gates locked they are al 
 ways locked when I m in haste ! shouts for 
 the old woman and key ah me ! language ! 
 tears ! Thank goodness, we are on the road 
 at last. 
 
 " Darkness in the carriage I often want to 
 invent carriage lights inside, I mean. How 
 goes your latest flirtation ? I inquire of my 
 wicked cousin, while I am slowly getting 
 f or arder with a new pair of gloves ; knowing 
 his weakness, I feel safe in making this in 
 quiry ; but strange to relate, he doesn t take it 
 in the right way. 
 
 " I adore him yet, Ruth ; but one must not 
 spoil favorites ; we should take them down a 
 peg, as we Americans say, or they will climb 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 71 
 
 too high eventually with no support, and then 
 down they come crash ! 
 
 " How slangy one grows in this nineteenth 
 century ! That reminds me that we are a bit 
 hard on the nineteenth century. Everything 
 is blamed on her. I am sure her shoulders are 
 tremendous, or she couldn t bear up under the 
 censure. 
 
 " Well, to hark back to my question. My 
 relative seems very much annoyed, which 
 shows which way the wind blows ; or, in more 
 grandiloquent terms, how the blood pulses. 
 
 " The carriage goes grinding and crunching 
 up the gravel drive to my neighbor s door. 
 The fat old horses trot on like machines. The 
 scent of the hay-stacks in the fields over the 
 hedge steals through the landau windows, like 
 a tender caress, in the warm soft darkness, as 
 we get nearer the house. A sin ! A crime, 
 you say ! But the stars shine on, and our 
 hearts beat hotly. Ceremony dinner a hum 
 of voices. Cousin way down the other side 
 of the table talking to the daughter of the 
 house, making her blue eyes big with wonder ; 
 for cousin is witty, and knows how to use hie 
 
72 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 eyes also while talking. Those eyes of his a^re 
 brigands, I tell him, which steal away -0*11: 
 peace. 
 
 " That nasty jealous pain again in my heart ! 
 And I know I am growing pale. I begin 
 desperately to talk scandal, church affairs, ..sci 
 ence, and even crops how droll, for I don t 
 know turnips from corn. When I suggested 
 the shooting, I found that my companion was 
 not quite such a mere pudding as I had at first 
 fancied. He told me how well the birds flew, 
 what a big bag he and his friends had scored 
 the last day, and what a fine show of pheas 
 ants they had. Then he alludes fondly to^the 
 hunt, and tells of the show of foxes, and I 
 innocently remark that we have never been 
 known to find in his covers. 
 
 "A convulsive sound conies from behind 
 the napkin of a sporting young friend, who is 
 my neighbor on the other side, as he buries 
 his face in it. I stare at my shooting friend, 
 and wonder a wee bit about the wire, and the 
 blank days we have had over his land. A near 
 neighbor tells me merrily of his young mare 
 which he is making, and of what a clinking 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 73 
 
 c good un she is. Then he goes on to say 
 that he has kept fit all summer through 
 that glorious game of tennis. I hate tennis 
 myself, golf is much more amusing, but I 
 smile sympathetically, because I always like 
 to encourage comfortable looking men, and he 
 is decidedly that about eighteen stone, I d 
 wager. 
 
 "How long the dinner is! But I don t 
 mind. I like my host and his wife, who is 
 such a comfy practical dear ; besides she al 
 ways asks one or two of my chums. 
 
 " There s one congenial soul here to-night, 
 and I m going to sit on a lounge near the 
 door, and carelessly look over a magazine 
 where I noticed an article on electricity ; and 
 he will stroll in presently, and sit by me and 
 tell me wonderful things in the latest develop 
 ments of that force. 
 
 "How serious most of the women appear 
 to be ! They huddle in little groups, expa 
 tiating on their respective infants, and of what 
 their husbands will or will not allow them to 
 do. I m not a bit of a woman s rights advo- 
 vate, but I know I m superior to most of the 
 
74 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 men I know, both morally and intellectu 
 ally. 
 
 " It sickens me to see that dissipated, pomp 
 ous Mr. Hodkins patronizing his wife ; but 
 perhaps she likes it, so there s no harm done. 
 I seem foreign to these women; they don t 
 quite understand my independence. 
 
 "If I were a horse, I should try to break 
 anyone s neck who tried to put a curb in my 
 mouth. 
 
 " Good-nights are spoken, and we drive off 
 through the soft sweet night again. 
 
 " Only the monotonous roll of the carriage 
 wheels is heard. 
 
 " I lie back in a corner with my feet resting 
 on the opposite seat, puffing my cigarette in a 
 stingy way, dreamily regretting to see it burn 
 out, because it was the last in the case ; besides 
 cousin lit it for me. 
 
 " We have always smoked together, and he 
 often pretends that my cigarette is his when 
 he hears anyone coming. Ah me ! My blood 
 flows so fast to-night. Something cries out to 
 me in my inner consciousness Resist! Re 
 sist! Desire fulfilled is sweet, I know; but 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE8IKE. 75 
 
 sorrow will follow. Dream and love no more. 
 It will not avail. Life, age, death, every law 
 of God and man forbids ! 
 
 <( "We are at home at last. I go wearily up 
 to my room, throw open the window, and let 
 in the cool, pure air ; then I blow out the can 
 dle, fold the blankets close around me, and try 
 to sleep ; but sleep, rest, nor comfort will come 
 to me ; for I know that his room is near mine ; 
 and I picture him fast asleep by this time, 
 with his dark head and handsome face show 
 ing up clear on the pillow ; and I toss and cry 
 all night. The love of my childhood has only 
 grown stronger with my womanhood. 
 
 " When I no longer respond to his voice or 
 touch, I shall be dead. 
 
 " Come, Ruth, and comfort me ! 
 
 " MILDRED." 
 
 "And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 
 *TiB that I may not weep." 
 
 BYRON. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " I had a neet full once of my own ; 
 
 Ah 1 happy, happy I. 
 
 Oh, how I loved them ! But when they were grown 
 They spread out their wings to fly." 
 
 JEAN INOELOW. 
 
 THE train slowly drew up at Euston Sta 
 tion, with much fuss and noise, as though it 
 were utterly disgusted with the long and cold 
 journey from Liverpool and its load of tired, 
 grumbling passengers. 
 
 Ruth Bronson wiped the moisture from the 
 window-pane of the carriage, and peered out 
 into the grimy faces of the porters, who were 
 running alongside the train, to be in time, 
 when the doors were thrown open, to assist 
 with the luggage, and to pick up many an 
 extra shilling from the Americans. 
 
 The sun, glowing through the fog, and 
 
THE "SHADOW OF DESIRE. 77 
 
 looking for all the world like an exaggerated 
 orange, of which " Alice in Wonderland " 
 might dream, cast an amber glory over the 
 fretful passengers and their much-labeled 
 boxes. At last Ruth caught sight of the tall 
 form of Mildred looming up through the cu 
 rious shadows, as she hurried forward, fol 
 lowed by her husband, Mr. Holbourne, and an 
 enormous footman ; but Ruth was too dusty 
 and hungry to notice whether or not her 
 friend had changed much. 
 
 " I m going to rush you right through home. 
 A bit more exertion for you, perhaps, but 
 you ll be all the more < comfy. " So Mildred 
 chattered on, while they changed trains ; and 
 then after another half hour they drove up to 
 Forest House, and she was shown to a cosy 
 suite of rooms, with a fine view of the terrace 
 and the undulating park beyond. 
 
 The next morning she did not get up until 
 it was time for luncheon. Mildred came for 
 her, looking strong and rosy, and wearing a 
 shooting costume. 
 
 "I ve been out all the morning, prac 
 tising at clay pigeons. It s such fun ; did 
 
78 THE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 
 
 you ever try your hand ? " she asked, as 
 she showed the way through huge corri 
 dors, up and down, and around queer corners 
 and stairways, until they reached the morning- 
 room. 
 
 " No. I ve never had a go at pigeons, 
 but I m awfully fond of walking after the 
 birds." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I remember quite well what a 
 crack shot you were with the partridges at 
 home." 
 
 " Yes. I can thank Jack Carey for my 
 bloodthirsty tendencies, answered Ruth. 
 " Dear old Jack, what infinite pains he took 
 with my sporting education. Why, I never 
 knew how to jump until he put me on that 
 little mare of his and coaxed me over. I 
 never knew how to cast a fly, until he wasted 
 hours in showing me, dear old boy ! " 
 
 " Well, he is certainly well paid for his 
 trouble, for you ve a most enviable record 
 with your sporting friends, cried Mildred 
 enthusiastically. "By the way," she con 
 tinued, " did you know that Jack Carey is 
 abroad now ? 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 79 
 
 "No," answered Euth delightedly. " In 
 England?" 
 
 "He is in Scotland now, shooting with some 
 friends. He will probably stay with us for a 
 few days before he goes on the Continent." 
 
 There were quite a number of guests stay 
 ing at Forest House ; and amongst them Cap 
 tain Sultingham, an Indian officer, on home 
 leave, who sat next to Ruth. He was a tall, 
 thin man, with rather an unusually clever face, 
 if features and color go to make up intellect. 
 His pretty little cousin said that he was t( a 
 dangerous, naughty man," and that that was 
 why God had given him such an evil, ugly 
 face. 
 
 His pretty little cousin was a spinster of 
 nearly thirty, with the well-developed figure 
 of a matron ; and her friends did say that 
 but no matter, it is wicked to "telltales out of 
 school," and perhaps her friends were jealous 
 and spiteful. 
 
 Ruth found the Captain most charming, 
 despite his dangerous reputation ; and forgot 
 after awhile his yellow, drawn face, and chang 
 ing green eyes. His great intelligence, and 
 
80 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 unexplained magnetism fascinated the girl; 
 and she hung eagerly on his words, as he 
 talked smoothly on in a queer voice, which 
 had been spoiled, no doubt, by the hot climate 
 of the East. 
 
 Finding that she was a sportswoman, he 
 told her the most wonderful anecdotes about 
 sport in India, China, Japan, and Malay. All 
 the time Huth was beaming in rapt admiration 
 on this man who was neither young, rich, nor 
 good-looking. Can anyone explain these phe 
 nomenal inconsistencies ? 
 
 After luncheon Mr. Holbourne proposed a 
 drive on his coach, and amid much bustle 
 and laughter they all clambered up on the 
 top of that vehicle which has been the cause 
 of more jollity than any inanimate object I 
 know. 
 
 Waldo Bronson was made happy by secur 
 ing the long coveted place by the side of 
 pretty little Mrs. John Howes, at whom he had 
 been making eyes all morning, much to her 
 husband s amusement ; for he made eyes at 
 her himself, even now, after five years of " for 
 better for worse," and could thoroughly un- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 81 
 
 derstand what an irresistible and innocent 
 coquette she was. 
 
 Mildred, Captain Sultingham, and John 
 Howes were bunched together, and Will l)un- 
 ston was relegated to the off side of Mrs. 
 Howes. Mr. Holbourne called out in his 
 cheery English voice to Ruth to jump up on 
 the box with him. 
 
 " Do you drive a team ? * he asked her, as 
 he stood up for a moment to arrange the 
 wheel and lead reins, and adjust his driving- 
 apron well around him. 
 
 "Oh, yes, a little. When I was quite a 
 young girl I once took a three weeks coaching 
 trip up to the English Lakes and got my hand 
 well in then. , 
 
 "It must have been awfully jolly, if you 
 had congenial spirits with you," he remarked, 
 deftly touching up the near side leader under 
 the bar, to Ruth s great admiration. 
 
 " You know that touching up the leaders 
 is a thing I never can do well. I invariably 
 make a botch of it by touching the wrong 
 horse, which of course sets them all off," she 
 said. 
 
82 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 " There is no science in it," he answered, 
 while over his face there stole that amiable 
 look of importance which a man unconsciously 
 takes on when he is teaching a woman any 
 thing about sport. " You simply draw the 
 whip very quietly over and under the horse 
 so ; " and Mr. Holbourne again touched up 
 the little leader, who threw up her head, 
 snorting at the insult of another reminder of 
 her duty. 
 
 They had come up to a hill, and he dropped 
 his hands to the horses, and gave them a gal 
 loping stage down it, and up the other side ; 
 then drew them in for a breather. 
 
 The country around undulated beautifully, 
 and was unusually green for that time of year. 
 Forest House was renowned for its fine shoot 
 ing. From the hill where they were resting 
 for awhile, Buth saw the great wood, looking 
 like a huge army encamped ; and the broad 
 fields and meadows, where birds were so plen 
 tiful. " You must take Mrs. Bronson as one 
 of the guns, day after to-morrow," said Mil 
 dred, talking over the back of the seat to her 
 husband ; for she saw the eager look which 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 83 
 
 shone in Ruth s eyes at the promise of sport 
 which all these covers offered. 
 
 " Oh, how good of you ! " cried Ruth joy 
 fully. " But I m afraid I shall be in the way; 
 I hear that you Englishmen do not care for 
 women to join you in your sports." 
 
 " What a calumny on my poor country 
 men ! " replied Mr. Holbourne. " Why, when 
 a woman is really fond of shooting, she is 
 very often keener than the men ; and I hear 
 you re a crack shot, Mrs. Bronson." 
 
 " She is, indeed, Holbourne ; " spoke up 
 Waldo Bronson, slyly pinching the little hand 
 of his wife, which was idly lying on the side. 
 " You ll find you ll require ropes to get her 
 out of the piles of slaughtered victims which 
 steadily increase around her," he went on 
 mischievously. 
 
 Ruth smiled affectionately back at her hus 
 band. She was beginning to understand him. 
 Mrs. John Howes gave a nervous little cry, 
 saying: "I couldn t hurt any living crea 
 ture, and I should weep if I shot a dear little 
 bird ! " and she looked up with her baby blue 
 eyes plaintively into Waldo Bronson s brown 
 
84 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 face. Captain Sultingham asked her if she 
 wept over all the hearts she broke ; and her 
 husband sighed, for he knew only too well 
 how cruel this dainty bit of affectation could 
 be when in the humor. Mildred looked on 
 with an expression as imperturbable as that of 
 the Sphinx, and thought her own thoughts 
 meanwhile ; she did not approve of clinging, 
 blue-eyed baby- women; they were all more 
 or less hypocrites and bores, she thought. 
 But Ruth liked Mrs. Howes, simply because 
 she was so different from herself; besides, 
 Mrs. Howes was pretty, and Ruth was artistic. 
 
 " Will you take them now ?" said Mr. Hoi- 
 bourne, alluding to the horses. 
 
 " Thank you. How nice ! But if you don t 
 mind, I should like to put that mare in the 
 middle bar ; I m afraid she ll take a bit of a 
 hold going home, and my arms are rather soft 
 just now. 
 
 She slipped quickly down, and attended to 
 these details herself ; then gathering the reins 
 together in the most approved style, mounted 
 the box, and caught her whip ; and they were 
 soon bowling along homewards. The bars 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 85 
 
 clinked merrily, arid the little thoroughbred 
 leaders stepped up with pleasure ; for they 
 recognized the feel of a woman s hands, and 
 did their best accordingly. 
 
 John, the blue-eyed Irish coachman, who 
 was responsible for many of the woes of the 
 village beauties, was quite an artist oA the 
 coach horn, and made the country ring with 
 the lively strains of well, I will spare you 
 the name of that rollicking song and dance 
 which even royalty had on the brain last sea 
 son ; also " Old Kent Koad," Buy a Broom," 
 and " Johnny s so long at the Fair ; " to the 
 edification of the yokels and the urchins who 
 ran along by the side of the road making 
 " cart wheels " with the most surprising 
 rapidity. 
 
 4< I shall have to give up the reins now," 
 said Euth, with a little grimace of fatigue. 
 " My arms are getting so tired, and I don t 
 want to shipwreck you all." 
 
 They were drawing near the lodge gate, 
 where the turn was difficult. Mr. Holbourne 
 took the reins from her, and expressed his ad 
 miring surprise that she had held out so long. 
 
86 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 "Will you stop a minute at the lodge? I 
 want to run in and see how the old man is/ 
 requested Mildred. 
 
 She had to stoop as she entered the lodge 
 door. The room was tiny, but spotlessly 
 clean. Some scarlet geraniums bloomed in 
 pots on the ledge of the latticed window. A 
 small, aged woman, scrupulously neat, arose 
 and made her a low curtsy. 
 
 " I ve come to inquire about your husband, 
 Mrs. Hawkins," Mildred said kindly. 
 
 " Thank ye, mTdy," answered the woman. 
 " E wus took wus lawst night, and the doctor 
 sez that there do be no opes fur im, mTdy," 
 and the little woman made another jerky 
 curtsy. Her face was as quiet and patient as 
 that of a dumb beast ; and she kept her toil- 
 worn hands folded across her white apron. 
 Mildred wondered if she was as patient as she 
 looked, or whether, like most English people 
 of her class, she merely assumed that stolid 
 expression out of long habit. 
 
 From the next room the sick man s moans 
 came faintly in to them. 
 
 " I shall miss im, mTdy ; Awkins wuz a 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 87 
 
 good man tu me till e took tu drink. Five and 
 thirty year, mTdy, makes a body git sort o 
 use to each other." Two heavy tears rolled 
 down the still face, and dropped with a splash 
 on her folded neckerchief. Mildred was fas 
 cinated as she watched them roll down ; for 
 all the time the woman s expression remained 
 without the least change. She felt a great 
 pity for this lonely old creature, and arose 
 nervously as she heard the horses clanking 
 their bits impatiently outside. " I will send 
 you some more port wine and flannels at once, 
 Mrs. Hawkins, and will come and see you 
 again to-morrow." And she hastily left the 
 lodge. 
 
 " Thank ye, mTdy," the woman answered 
 gratefully. She peered out into the winter 
 twilight, after the merry coaching party, with 
 a dull pain at her heart, as memory slowly 
 tugged at its strings ; while the sound of 
 " Polly put the Kettle on, and we ll all have 
 Tea " grew fainter and fainter, as the coach 
 quickly disappeared around the bend in the 
 park, and darkness fell on all around. It 
 seemed but yesterday when her good man had 
 
88 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 sung the same old song ; but in reality it was 
 forty years ago. 
 
 Since then many children had been born to 
 them ; several tiny graves in the simple 
 churchyard, just over the fair hillside, all 
 smiling with field flowers, contained her baby 
 girls ; and over the sea to that land of prom 
 ise, America, her only boy had gone to make 
 his fortune. She had not heard from him for 
 a long time, but did not complain, as while 
 she waited in dumb, stupid patience for a let 
 ter, she did not know, poor thing, that a fair- 
 haired English boy had been shot in a brawl 
 in one of those mining towns out West, 
 and that he was lying buried hardly deep 
 enough to keep the coyotes from scratching 
 around the stones, which some rough but kind 
 pal had thrown on that shallow grave to 
 mark the spot. She did not know poor 
 thing what a blessed thing it is that we do 
 not know all. She turned and went in, and 
 mechanically wiped the moisture from her 
 faded eyes, as a feeble complaint from the 
 sufferer reached her ears. 
 
 An owl hooted in the turret of the lodge, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 89 
 
 and the sparrows stirred uneasily in their 
 
 nests in the ivy under the eaves. 
 
 # # # # * * 
 
 " Clear the way ! * rang out triumphantly 
 from the horn, as the coach drew up rapidly 
 with much jolly jingling at the entrance of 
 Forest House. They all crowded into the 
 library rosy with the cold air, and famishing 
 for tea. A bright coal and wood fire was 
 blazing in the large fireplace. Ruth threw 
 open her coat, and lay back in a big chair, with a 
 soft sigh of comfort, as the warmth and bright 
 ness of the room, and the smell of the tea, 
 permeated her senses. 
 
 A large bay window opened out on to the 
 graveled terrace, and beyond stretched the 
 Italian garden and broad lawn, skirted here 
 and there by firs, sturdy winter greens, and 
 laurels, which in the half-light of a Novem 
 ber evening appeared to Ruth s dreamy fancy 
 like faithful crouching beasts, protecting the 
 house against the unknown mysteries of the 
 wilderness and the shadowy park. 
 
 Outside the window clamored five enthusi 
 astic beggars, pawing and whining for admit- 
 
00 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 tance. Mr. Holbourne unfastened the swinging 
 glass doors ; and they came bounding in, wag 
 ging their tails furiously. Trap, one of the 
 Irish terriers, with wonderful brown, gentle 
 eyes, looked as though he would rather pray 
 than do almost anything else ; but in reality 
 he was the most hardened rascal of them all. 
 He would stop with you so long as you threw 
 sticks and stones for his amusement, or took 
 him rabbitting or ratting ; but if you happened 
 to get tired after long hours of assiduous at 
 tention, he would calmly trot off, to make the 
 lives of the stable cats, or anything else run 
 ning, crawling, or flying, not worth the living; 
 and leave you with a sheepish, inconsequential 
 suspicion that you were a failure, and not 
 worth your salt. 
 
 Chip, his son, was a most original little 
 trump. He was very inquisitive and rompish, 
 and if you scolded him for upsetting your tea 
 all over your favorite gown, he would insist 
 upon flopping his dirty little paw in your hand 
 to be shaken, with an air which said as plain 
 as words, "Oh, that s all right, old man. 
 "What s the use of being huffy with a fel- 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 91 
 
 low ? * The blarney in his ugly little face 
 appealed to you, and you found yourself 
 laughing and giving him your choicest bit of 
 buttered muffin, in spite of his delinquency. 
 The other was a big black retriever called 
 Senga, that both of the terriers adored. Their 
 mistress kept them up to their paces in the 
 most approved way. Trap and Chip under 
 stood only too well the pangs of jealousy in 
 all its variations. The other two were fox 
 hound puppies that Mildred walked, "Lan 
 cer and " Landsman " by name. There is 
 something about a fox-hound puppy that is 
 really irresistible. He is so clumsy, and his 
 feet look as though he had borrowed them to 
 leave around in people s way. His coat is 
 softer and more silky than a child s hair, and 
 his eyes gaze at you with such sweet, melan 
 choly trust, as he awkwardly and confidingly 
 puts his head in your lap to be petted. Then 
 he has such a cute way of walking away with 
 your pet cushion, that you have spent days in 
 embroidering, to try his new teeth on it ; or 
 the tea cosy, or your gloves, hats, storm- 
 shoes in fact, any blessed thing that he may 
 
93 THE SHADOW OF DE8IJRE. 
 
 spy in the hall, room, stables, or gardens, if it 
 happens to suit his mischievous, meddlesome 
 fancy. And yet we love these little wretches, 
 and take on a fresh couple every year, as fast 
 as the huntsman sends for the youngsters to 
 begin their education. 
 
 " Thank you, 5 said Ruth, smiling up into 
 "Will Dunston s gloomy eyes, as he handed her 
 another cup of tea. " What a famous institu 
 tion afternoon tea is !" 
 
 At this moment the door was thrown 
 open, and Bonner, the butler, inflated his 
 chest and announced in his most pomp 
 ous way, "Mrs. Rollins;" whereon a short, 
 cobby, fussy, red-faced little woman bustled 
 in. She wore a long, impossible-look 
 ing red cloak ; and her sleek dark hair was 
 parted in the centre, plastered flat down 
 on either side, and drawn properly behind her 
 ears in that prim way that many English ma 
 trons adopt. Perched severely on the top of 
 this correct coiffure was a prosperous-looking 
 black lace bonnet (warranted to keep off neu 
 ralgic attacks and all sorts of colds), gar 
 landed with arrogant fat roses of a purplish- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 93 
 
 red color, which harmonized perfectly with 
 the good lady s nose. She advanced gushingly 
 to Mildred. " Ah, my dear Mrs. Holbourne ! 
 So glad to find you at home. I m half frozen. 
 Yes. Of course I ll take some tea," as Mrs. 
 Holbourne handed her a cup. u Thanks ; lots 
 of sugar, please. There, that ll do, thanks. 
 
 " Have a wee drap o suthin in it," sug 
 gested Captain Sultingham, who had been in 
 Scotland a great deal, offering her a glass of 
 fine old whiskey. 
 
 " Why, dear me, how dreadful. I can t im 
 agine a woman indulging in such demoraliz 
 ing customs!" and she sniffed, and glared 
 around disapprovingly at the guilty party. 
 
 Ruth and Mrs. Howes had just taken some 
 brandy in their tea through the advice of 
 their hospitable host, who had the happy fac 
 ulty of making life smooth for his friends. 
 They were chilled from the long drive, and 
 found that it soon restored their circulation ; 
 but when Mrs. Rollins put such stress on the 
 wickedness of that indulgence, they both felt 
 very small and crushed. Mildred glanced up 
 sharply, and said with sweetness, casting a 
 
94 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 meaning glance at the dear lady s nose, "I 
 can very well understand why you should be 
 afraid to indulge in such things, Mrs. Rol 
 lins !" That irrepressible person talked volu 
 bly on, not noticing the insinuation, although 
 there was a subdued titter around the room 
 from the others. 
 
 " By the way, Mrs. Howes, I hear you are 
 going to run off to Paris, and leave your ami 
 able husband alone as usual to keep house. It 
 must be very useful to some people to have 
 such sweet-tempered husbands !" 
 
 Pretty little Mrs. Howes, who was sitting 
 poised on the arm of Ruth s chair, colored 
 hotly, and looked rather frightened when the 
 bomb was hurled at her by this coarse, evil- 
 minded woman. "I I go over twice a year," 
 she replied timidly, "to order my gowns." 
 
 " Oh, do you ? Well, for my part, I think 
 English things good enough for me or any 
 body, and always believe in encouraging home 
 industries. Can I trouble you to ring for my 
 carriage?" she asked, turning to Mr. Hoi- 
 bourne, who obeyed her with alacrity. "I 
 must be going ; Mr. Rollins is getting so ex- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRTC. 95 
 
 acting now that his gout is worse ; and isn t 
 at all pleased if I stay away more than an 
 hour or two from him. 7 Her hearers looked 
 at each other incredulous and astonished. 
 " Ah, thanks ! as Bonner announced her car 
 riage, and Mr. Holbourne helped her on with 
 her wonderful red cloak. " Good-bye, my 
 dear; I shall look out for you at Lady Sal- 
 tonbrough s ball to-morrow night ; I suppose 
 you ll look ravishing. You American women 
 always eclipse us. Good-bye, good-bye !" and 
 she stormed out like a cyclone, talking loudly 
 all the way to the hall door. 
 
 When she had gone, dead silence reigned in 
 the room for awhile ; but it was suddenly broken 
 by poor little Mrs. Howes jumping up and walk 
 ing swiftly to and fro. " I hate that woman. 
 She hasn t the slightest spark of humanity in 
 her, and always persecutes me in the most un 
 provoked and shameless way way and 
 thereupon she promptly went into violent 
 hysterics, and was led up to her room by her 
 husband, who soothed and calmed her until 
 she was quite her smiling self again. 
 
 John Howes worshiped his wife, and consid- 
 
96 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 ered everything she did perfection. He was so 
 full of charming tact, and was such a lovable 
 and sympathetic companion, that she actually 
 preferred his society to anyone s, a fact for 
 which the fashionable, worldly little creature 
 was not given credit. During his bachelor 
 days he had kept a hunting box at Market 
 Harboro , and been one of the hardest riders 
 in the Shires ; but since his marriage he had 
 given it all up. His friends marveled much 
 at this, but they never found out that the sac 
 rifice was made because he wished to have 
 more money with which to pamper his lovely 
 wife. Neither one of them suspected, though, 
 that he was slowly and surely changing her 
 weak character into a broader and nobler one. 
 Often she would blush and hesitate when she 
 had a capricious or foolish wish, because she 
 knew it would grieve the man who loved her, 
 and yet who never begged for more than she 
 offered. Ah, yes ! John Howes was a clever 
 man and a hero too. 
 
 " She s gone, a manifest serpent by her sting ! " 
 
 MH.TOK. 
 
CHAPTER YII. 
 
 " Desire is a respite from love, and the flesh 
 Not the heart is her fuel." 
 
 SWINBUBNE. 
 
 MAKTHA fastened a string of pearls around 
 her mistress* throat, and gave one or two fin 
 ishing touches to her hair hair which as 
 Ruth grew older took on deeper tints of red 
 brown. She herself pinned a bunch of pale 
 pink roses on her bodice, and then walked 
 quickly out down the corridor. 
 
 " Don t prink so much, dearie, you ll cut us 
 all out," she called cheerily to her husband as 
 she tapped with her fan on passing his door. 
 
 ts Are you dressed already ? Why, I m just 
 having my tub!" answered a muffled voice 
 from the depths of the dressing room. 
 
 (( Don t hurry, lots of time ! " she replied, 
 continuing on her way. Her train made a soft 
 swishing sound, as she held her breath on 
 coming around by the corner of the haunted 
 
98 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 wing. Then she sped down the winding 
 stairs of the last turret, pursued by a childish 
 fear, which made her feel as though each 
 group of armor, each shadowy spot, contained 
 a gruesome something which would snatch at 
 her gown. Who has not experienced that 
 same uncanny fear on trying to find the way 
 down stairs in an old country house, when 
 the servants are busy far away in the depths 
 of the offices, and everyone is dressing? 
 
 It was a relief to Ruth to arrive safely in the 
 drawing-room, which she found quite de 
 serted. She settled herself cosily beside a 
 lamp, whose light shone subdued by a corn- 
 colored silk shade; and opened a copy of 
 Omar Khayydm, that she found lying on a 
 table near. 
 
 " But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, 
 And many a Garden by the Water blows " 
 
 she read ; and turning over the leaves further 
 on: 
 
 " I sometimes think that never blows so red 
 The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled ; 
 That every Hyacinth the Garden wears 
 Dropt in her Lap, from some once lovely Head. " 
 
THE SHADOW OP DKBIRK. 99 
 
 Slowly she became conscious of voices pro 
 ceeding from the music-room, accompanied by 
 the low, plaintive strains of that pathetic air, 
 "Ye Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon. 
 Glancing up, she saw through the double 
 door, which was wide open, Mildred, seated 
 at the piano, playing softly, and at the same 
 time talking rapidly under her breath to 
 Will Dunston, who was leaning on the 
 mantelpiece, gazing with a moody pale 
 face down at the burning logs. The slouch 
 and droop of his giant form showed de 
 spondency and deadly indifference. He 
 turned and selected a white flower from a 
 glass on a stand near, pinned it with slow 
 deliberation in his coat, then assumed his 
 position by the mantelpiece with a half 
 yawn. 
 
 Mildred left the piano and went swiftly 
 over to him, her dark angry face pale with 
 agony. " Will ! you must, you shall listen to 
 me ! Either you take me away with you for 
 ever, and end this miserable farce, or or 
 leave me ; for I loathe myself, and all this 
 hypocrisy." She looked up into his averted 
 
100 THE SHADOW OP DE3TRE. 
 
 face, with an intensity which told he held the 
 key of life and death for her. 
 
 Huth noticed as one will small things in 
 concentrated moments that Mildred was 
 nearly as tall as "Will Dunston, and that her 
 face was stronger and more severe than his ; 
 although her slim figure bent and swayed in 
 the storm of her passionate trouble. 
 
 At that moment Captain Sultingham and 
 Waldo Bronson walked into the drawing-room 
 together, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Howes, 
 Mr. Holbourne, and the other guests. People 
 began to arrive rapidly. Bonner announced 
 "The Earl and Countess of Carron." The 
 Earl was a sandy-haired Irishman, with well- 
 developed sporting proclivities, a mania for 
 tennis and another mania for snubbing his 
 wife. She the Countess was a white- 
 haired, keen-eyed, handsome woman ; her 
 mania was for church work, and for selling 
 bad copies of the old masters (painted by an 
 impecunious female relative in Rome) to her 
 friends, particularly to the nouveaux riches 
 among them, knowing of course the weakness 
 these latter have for cultivating rich country 
 
THE SHADOW OF DBSIHE. 101 
 
 nobodies, who have been stupid enough to 
 marry a little lord, and then let him squander 
 their fortunes. 
 
 So mj Lady made them all pay for the rare 
 honor of her acquaintance accordingly. 
 
 " The Countess of Wainlo, Lady Eva Wainlo, 
 and Lady Florence Wainlo." The Countess of 
 Wainlo was a noble, sweet-faced woman. Her 
 husband had been most cruelly massacred in 
 an Indian rebellion. Lady Eva and Lady 
 Florence were most interesting, and very fond 
 of sport. 
 
 " The Hon. Mrs. Agilton Bourne, and Mr. 
 Peggy." Here a huge, Juno-like creature, 
 with a pretty, insipid pink face, came gam 
 bolling, as it were, across the room, followed 
 by her cavalier. 
 
 <{ I m so sorry my husband couldn t come," 
 she giggled. " But he left his dress clothes at 
 White s, so I ve brought Mr. Peggy as proxy." 
 She looked down at Mildred as she spoke, 
 with a foolish smirk on her beautiful face. 
 Ruth was sorry that she had opened her 
 mouth, and thus destroyed the illusion pro 
 duced by her effective appearance. 
 
102 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Claude Finche, a promising young writer, 
 who had been very much lionized the last 
 season in London, looked rather disappointed 
 with Mrs. Bourne all through dinner, as she 
 lisped on inanely. He confided to his most 
 intimate friend, who of course told every one 
 else, that he had a wild desire to put the 
 pretty lady on a pedestal only there was 
 none colossal enough to hold her and bom 
 bard her with sugar-plums, so she would be 
 too busy to talk. Some men are very naughty 
 and unreasonable even with professional beau 
 ties, sometimes. They really expect some 
 thing else something more intellectually 
 gratifying than the pout of lovely lips, and 
 the shine of ox-eyes; but how should such 
 greed not go unrewarded ! 
 
 The guests continued to arrive. The grand 
 banquet hall, with its groined roof, oak carv 
 ings, and hundreds of wax candles, made a 
 most magnificent picture. High up, at the 
 end of the room, was the minstrels gallery ; 
 and a band of stringed instruments played all 
 through dinner. 
 
 When the ladies retired to the drawing- 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIKE. 103 
 
 room, for coffee and gossip, Ruth was very 
 much amused at the antics of Mrs. Mulle, the 
 daughter of a rich Scotch manufacturer. She 
 was notorious for her monkey face, pretty 
 gowns, and the numerous gangs of men who 
 would follow her around from one country 
 house to another. Her special admirer was a 
 fair-haired, handsome young captain, who had 
 done brave service in India for his Queen. He 
 was an all-round good sportsman a rare man 
 to hounds, and a charming fellow altogether. 
 It was whispered that there had once been 
 talk of a marriage between Mrs. Mulle and 
 himself a few years before, when she was a 
 shrewd, ambitious lassie, and he the sort of 
 dare-devil that most doting fathers adore. 
 But unfortunately for the lassie, the dare 
 devil s father would not consent to such 
 a mesalliance; so she thereupon married 
 a very credulous young squire, who found 
 it necessary to wear the strong eye-glasses 
 proffered by his dear friends ; and even 
 then he did not see as well as he should 
 have done, considering his age. But per 
 haps his wife encouraged a long fringe over 
 
104 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 his eyes which made them naturally very 
 weak. 
 
 She had a most delicious way of speaking 
 about her sweetest friend, Lady Glendor 
 and Ruth was rather astonished when she met 
 Lady Glendor a few days after that, and 
 mentioned Mrs. Mulle. 
 
 " Oh, you mean that very enterprising 
 person from Scotland. I ve never seen her 
 but once or twice to my recollection, and 
 that was at church fairs, or garden parties 
 perhaps." 
 
 Lady Glendor was not only a very beauti 
 ful woman, but a fascinating and lovable one. 
 Her nearest relative was heir to one of the 
 most historical castles in Scotland. He lived 
 very mysteriously and quietly ; people said 
 that it was because he had been told the secret 
 of his illustrious family, a short time before, 
 when he came of age, just as all the eldest 
 sons had been told before him. 
 
 Some said that a monster had been born in 
 the family centuries before, and that it was 
 still living, and confined in one of the wings 
 of the castle, which overlooked the sea. The 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 105 
 
 monster was supposed to be guarded by two 
 old family servants. 
 
 Several of the country people and fisher 
 men around declared that they had heard it 
 beat at the bars of the windows, and howl 
 most frantically, causing them to flee in terror. 
 Some said that it was Scotch whiskey ; while 
 others averred that it was a giant monstrosity 
 with the face of a toad. But nothing was 
 ever definitely found out ; only the eldest son 
 was told the secret on reaching his majority, 
 and was sworn to secrecy. So, of course, Lady 
 Glendor enjoyed great distinction, being con 
 nected with such an aristocratic family skele 
 ton. 
 
 At eleven o clock about fifty guests ar 
 rived from the neighboring country houses. 
 They all repaired to the long picture gallery, 
 where they danced until about two, and then 
 drove home again, a long way, through the 
 bitter cold not an unusual thing for English 
 people to do. Perhaps it is their total disre 
 gard of weather which makes them so delight 
 fully hardy. 
 
 Everyone had gone up to bed ; but Ruth stayed 
 
106 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 behind for a moment to look for her fan, 
 which she had mislaid. The half-lighted 
 rooms had a ghostly echo through them, as she 
 tiptoed about over the waxed floor. The silence 
 seemed doubly intense in contrast to the music 
 and laughter of so short a time before. 
 
 The candles twinkled faintly, and one or 
 two flared up and died out ; the air was heavy 
 with the drooping flowers. While searching 
 for her fan, she was compelled to look up, al 
 most against her will ; and on doing so she 
 encountered the eyes of Will Dunston, who 
 was standing in the door of the picture gal 
 lery watching her every movement. 
 
 " Can I help you ?" he asked walking over 
 to her. 
 
 " Thank you " she answered nervously. 
 "I ve left my fan about somewhere." He 
 followed her dumbly, with his great eyes bent 
 on her all the while. 
 
 She trembled with a nervous fear, and a 
 foreboding of future evil came over her. 
 Throwing her head back with an angry laugh 
 at such morbid presentiments, she looked him 
 straight in the face. Of late she had felt 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 107 
 
 the subtle animal magnetism of this man, and 
 had resented it ; but somehow when they had 
 been waltzing that night, the warmth of his 
 breath on her hair, the spell of the music, and 
 the mood of the moment, had intoxicated her. 
 When they glided to a corner of the room, 
 where sheltering palms clustered thick, she 
 sank in his arms breathless and panting. He 
 crushed her to him, and stooping kissed her 
 full on the mouth. A moment after she 
 struggled away from him, and ran along 
 through the corridor, and back to where the 
 dancers were resting, disgusted with herself, 
 loathing herself for such insanity. That mad 
 act came back to her now, making her tingle 
 with shame; she noticed, as she had never 
 done before, his voluptuous, heavy red mouth, 
 with its sensuous curves. She hated and de 
 sired at the same time. The blood crept up to 
 her slender throat and spread in a rosy glow 
 over her defiant, frightened face. 
 
 Will Dunston caught his breath fiercely, 
 trying to control himself. " Ah, Euth, what 
 have you done to me ? " he whispered, " I am 
 mad, for I love you, love you ! 
 
1CS THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 They did not move from their positions, but 
 stood as though turned to stone ; he, with his 
 arms held out longingly towards her, and she 
 gazing at him in fascination, with a half -mock 
 ing smile on her lips. " How dare you ! she 
 murmured, drawing a deep breath. "How 
 dare you ! " 
 
 "How dare I? You! You say that to 
 me, you, who have made these last few days 
 sweeter to me than Heaven can be ! How 
 dare I ? Why, I would dare anything for you; 
 I would even dare kill you, if I were so dis 
 posed. You know that you have led me on. 
 Ah, God ! how sweet you are ! " 
 
 Before she could cry out, or make any 
 resistance, he had caught her in his arms 
 again, and with one hand on her throat, 
 held her head back. She closed her eyes 
 almost fainting, for he was kissing her 
 again. His thick sensuous lips were pressed 
 hard against her delicate ones. He was 
 kissing her eyes, her hair, her bare pink 
 arms ; he was kissing her feet where the 
 flesh shone fair through the open work of 
 the silk stockings. She had never dreamed of 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE 109 
 
 such kisses before, and she gave back kisses 
 hot and fast, until her heart almost ceased to 
 beat, and she lay like a dead thing, over 
 whelmed by this new and strange sensation. 
 
 The winter moon, sailing high, cast a few 
 pale rays through the stained glass windows, 
 over the dark form of Will Dunston. Some 
 where down in the depths of the park the 
 cries of the restless deer echoed pitifully 
 through the night, and the perfume of the 
 jasmine filled the room like a reproach, reach 
 ing the fast fading senses of Ruth as she lay 
 in the arms of Mildred s lover. With almost 
 superhuman effort, she wrenched herself free 
 from his embrace, and ran along the halls, 
 upstairs, and to her room, locking the door 
 quickly with trembling fingers, while her heart 
 beat fast. 
 
 Throwing herself face downward on the rug 
 before the fire, she cried long and bitterly. 
 Martha, who had been fast asleep in a big 
 chair in the dressing-room, was awakened 
 by the intense cold of early morning. A 
 stream of light, shining through the window, 
 fell across her face, and brought out in fine 
 
110 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 relief all its brown color. She started up, 
 stretching her arms and shivering; walked 
 into her mistress bedroom, where she stumbled 
 over the prostrate form on the rug, and ut 
 tered a smothered cry of terror. 
 
 Martha was too well trained to ask questions ; 
 but on this occasion she was sorely tempted 
 to do so. Quickly and deftly unlacing Euth s 
 gown, she soon had her tucked up comfortably 
 in bed. Then, with all the sleep gone out of 
 her eyes, she made her way to her own room, 
 distracted by many uneasy wonderings. 
 
 " Yet nathemore is that fair beauty s blame, 
 But theirs that do abuse it unto ill." 
 
 SPENSER. 
 
CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 * Alas, how easily things go wrong ! 
 
 A sigh too much, or a kiss too long, 
 
 And there follows a mist and a weeping rain, 
 
 And life is never the same again." 
 
 GEOKGE MACDONALD. 
 
 BUTH, looking very frail and white, was 
 sleeping the sleep of exhaustion, which fre 
 quently follows strong emotion. As Martha 
 stood by her bedside the next morning to 
 awaken her, she noticed that her mistress had 
 grown thin. Deep purple shadows made her 
 eye-lashes appear longer and blacker than 
 usual, and her lips were too red and dry for 
 health. The faithful negress turned softly to 
 go, and leave her mistress to sleep her sleep out ; 
 but Euth first stirred uneasily, and then sud 
 denly sat up in bed, with a startled cry. She 
 stared for a moment after rubbing her sleepy 
 eyes. " Ah, it s you ? I I thought it was 
 
112 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 I ve had a bad dream, she continued, collect 
 ing her drowsy senses, as she took her cup of 
 tea from the maid s hand, and swallowed it 
 thirstily. 
 
 " What o clock is it ?" she asked. 
 
 " Ha f pas ten, Missie, and your baf a quite 
 ready." 
 
 Euth slid out of bed, and slipped her feet 
 into a pair of mules. Her little bare heela 
 went pit-a-pat as she walked across the rug to 
 the window. Drawing the curtain aside, she 
 looked out over the park, and down into the 
 courtyard. How glorious the clear, cold day 
 was ! Groups of beaters, with the head game 
 keeper, Darley, his son, and their men, were 
 gathered together, and several whining re 
 trievers were tugging impatiently at their 
 leashes. 
 
 Mr. Holbourne was examining his guns; 
 and six guests stood near, waiting to go to the 
 covers. Will Dunston strolled through the 
 big gate at that moment, and going up to one 
 of the men asked for a light for his cigar. 
 Ruth noticed with pleasure that the man was 
 Jack Carey. She then remembered that he 
 

 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 113 
 
 had been expected to arrive that morning 
 from Scotland. 
 
 Both the men looked up at the window at 
 the same moment, and caught sight of her 
 before she could duck her head. She smiled 
 down in her sweet, brilliant way at both of 
 them; and they each seemed to take a sole 
 and personal pleasure in that smile. Rapidly 
 donning her shooting costume she descended 
 the stairs, and in a state of some excitement 
 reached the morning room, where she found 
 Jack Carey waiting for her. 
 
 "They have all gone, it was getting so 
 late," he said, " so I ve stayed behind to see 
 that you get your breakfast, and to conduct 
 you to the drive. "While he was talking he 
 was pouring out her coffee, and putting several 
 dainty bits on her plate. 
 
 " I see that you haven t forgotten the art of 
 spoiling me, Jack!" and she smiled at him 
 over the rim of her cup. 
 
 " How gay and happy he is," she thought. 
 "And he looks much stronger and sturdier 
 than he did last year." 
 
 Catching up their guns, they both made 
 
114 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 their way down the long avenue, by the lake, 
 then through some gorse-land, fields, and a 
 small wood. The frosty earth crunched under 
 their feet. The trees and leaves seemed to be 
 clad in fairy crystal for some grand fete got 
 up by the nymphs of the forest. Each blade 
 of grass had a silvery network about it, and 
 the tufts of moss and clumps of bracken were 
 draped in robes of fine frost-lace. 
 
 The sky was a poem, with its snowy clouds 
 drifting about idly, as though waiting for the 
 signal to give way, like yachts I have seen in 
 warm blue southern waters on a regatta day. 
 
 Jack vaulted a fence leading into the big 
 wood, and Ruth scrambled over, woman fash 
 ion, catching the leather hem of her skirt in a 
 jag, and almost dropping her gun in her em 
 barrassment. Jack caught the weapon in 
 time and disentangled her amid much laugh 
 ter. Often after that incident he thrilled at the 
 memory of just a glimpse he had caught of a 
 natty little pair of green trousers, dangling 
 under an imprisoned skirt on the other side of 
 a fence that winter s day. 
 
 They both swung along through the strong, 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 115 
 
 thick brush-wood, then down the long rides 
 left and right ; but never a sound of the beat 
 ers or guns did they hear. Ruth became sud 
 denly aware that they had lost their way in the 
 big wood, a dangerous thing to do, as it would 
 take them hours, perhaps, before they would 
 meet anyone, or find a path back into the 
 park. 
 
 Suddenly the faint blue smoke of a fire was 
 seen curling above the bracken not far away. 
 On approaching they discovered a wood-cutter, 
 sitting on a log, leisurely eating bread and 
 cheese. He gazed stupidly at them, when 
 Jack Carey asked " Where are the guns, my 
 good man ?" The wood-cutter slowly took a 
 long drink out of a tin pail and wiped his lips 
 on the back of his sleeve. 
 
 " They be over the way, sir," he answered, 
 jerking a thumb over his right shoulder in 
 the direction of Carlton s cover. Ruth led 
 the way by a short cut through the trees, in 
 stead of keeping to the middle ride, and out 
 of danger of the guns. 
 
 The sound of the beaters swash, swish, 
 whack now came echoing to them as they 
 
116 THE SHADOW OP DE8IRE. 
 
 hurried along. Ping, bang, bang ! And the 
 shot whistled by the side of Jack Carey s 
 head. He turned very pale, and dropped on 
 his knees for a second, in the fern, drawing 
 Ruth down with him. 
 
 " Stay well behind me, and run low ! " he 
 said hoarsely, "and perhaps we ll pass all right ; 
 but but we are on the wrong side of the 
 guns." His eyes were blazing with suppressed 
 excitement. They rushed ahead like startled 
 deer, while their hearts almost ceased to beat, 
 when again the shot whistled over them. A 
 few yards more, and they stood with the line. 
 Colonel Dalton, one of the guests, looked 
 quite astonished at such a venturesome mode 
 of arrival, and began to chaff about people 
 who shun sport on cold winter mornings. 
 The Colonel was a very tall, handsome man, 
 every inch a soldier in appearance, as well as 
 at heart. He was a retired Indian officer, and 
 held the honorable post of Chief Sheriff in an 
 adjoining county. The ladies all had a 
 " sneaking regard " for the Colonel, and many 
 a flower was pinned in his buttonhole by fair, 
 fond fingers. He was a fine shot, and was much 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 117 
 
 in demand at most of the county shooting 
 parties. 
 
 Darley, the head keeper, looked quite pic 
 turesque, standing at the end of the line, in 
 his rough, brown corduroys. He gave Ruth 
 and Jack Carey two of the best places: an 
 odd thing to do, for they were very late ; but 
 Darley was not averse to his own interest. 
 The Colonel shrewdly guessed that Darley 
 had been " sugared " before they started. 
 
 Just then the cry " Mark " made Ruth 
 throw up her gun and fire. A fine cock 
 pheasant flopped cluttering down at her feet. 
 Along by some holly bushes a rabbit went 
 scooting saucily. Ruth marked him as her 
 own and he paid for his folly ; so sweet was 
 the curling smoke and the scent of the powder 
 to the nostrils of this inveterate sportswoman. 
 
 Jack Carey, in a sudden fright, cried, 
 " Look out, Lord love us ! " for his neighbor 
 who was very nearsighted seemed to be aim 
 ing straight at his gaiters. Bang ! and a hare 
 sped over the grass; he tried with his left, 
 but missed him. The cheery sound of the 
 beaters swash, swish, whack came to them 
 
118 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 all through the day. The bag was immense, 
 and so was everyone s appetite when they sat 
 down to luncheon, which was brought out to 
 them in the fields, by a breakfnl of merry- 
 eyed, rosy-cheeked girls, laughing, chatter 
 ing, and enjoying every moment. 
 
 They all drank some delicious English 
 " nut-brown ale," and then the men hurried 
 off to the cover next to be shot over. 
 
 Kuth returned to the house with the girls. 
 She was fatigued with the reaction from the 
 excitement caused by her dangerous adventure 
 in the face of the guns, and made her pretty 
 young friends blanch with fear when she re 
 lated it on their drive homewards. 
 
 Mildred Holbourne was watching Euth all 
 the while with a new and curious expression 
 on her face. Her eyes had that intense pain 
 in them that is seen in those of an animal 
 wounded to the death. Kuth caught their 
 gaze once, and turned aside, coloring vio 
 lently. She had no cause to blush, she tried 
 to assure herself ; and yet and yet but she 
 endeavored to secure consolation from the 
 thought that it was all for Mildred s sake that 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 119 
 
 she was winning away from her the man she 
 adored. For, she reasoned, once separated 
 from him, Mildred would be helped by pride 
 to put him aside from her thoughts ; and 
 she might then turn to her husband, and try 
 to forget her sorrow in her devotion to him. 
 Finally, Ruth reasoned with herself so hard 
 about the unselfishness of her affair with Will 
 Dunston, that she actually believed at times 
 that she was conquering the man only for 
 Mildred s good. 
 
 Nevertheless, her woman s instinct had told 
 Mildred the whole pitiless truth. The Bight 
 before, some inner devil had made her restless, 
 and she had gone down into the library for a 
 book which she had been reading. Softly 
 entering the room, she saw Will Dunston with 
 Ruth s white lace fan in his hands, kissing it 
 passionately. She quietly turned away, and 
 retraced her steps without giving a sign ; but 
 the chords of her heart were torn that night. 
 She slowly undressed and went to bed, turn 
 ing her face to the wall like a dying beast, 
 without a moan. Her anguish was too great for 
 utterance. 
 
120 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 She had not gone to the shoot that morn 
 ing. She was tired, and had other things to 
 do, she said. But she went with her bevy of 
 girls to take the luncheon to the men, looking 
 unusually calm and statuesque. "No one re 
 marked it but Tfcuth ; and when she saw the 
 dumb suffering which her friend s deep eyes 
 revealed, her heart misgave her. "Has she 
 heard? Does she know?" she thought rap 
 idly. " Oh ! how childish I am ! Why, it is 
 impossible ; and besides, even though the 
 worst comes, and she does know it all, she will 
 gee that it is the best thing for everyone. I 
 don t want Will Dunston, I only wish to 
 break off this terrible affair ; and although I 
 should forfeit Mildred s friendship, it would 
 be in a good cause," she argued mentally, giv 
 ing an almost virtuous sigh of self-satisfaction, 
 and patting herself on the back metaphorically, 
 with approval of her own diplomacy. 
 
 On arriving at the house they all crowded 
 into the music-room to hear one of the young 
 girls sing a charming song of her own composi 
 tion, with guitar accompaniment. It was called 
 " Adown the Stream " a pretty little air, full 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 121 
 
 of melody, and a suggestion of the moonlit 
 river. 
 
 Kuth could not bear the look in Mildred s 
 face ; so she left the room, stepped out of the 
 library window into the garden, and leaned 
 over the park- railing. It was blowing cold, 
 and the sky, which had been threatening a 
 snow-storm for the last hour or so, took on a 
 curious gray color; and presently the snow 
 began to fall in large flakes, silently and per 
 sistently. Drawing her deep fur collar high 
 up around her ears, she turned down a path 
 which led up to a knoll in the park, and 
 walked briskly until she reached the top. She 
 stood there for some time, shading her eyes 
 with her hand from the stinging snow, which 
 was now falling furiously. 
 
 She knew that this must be the way for 
 the men to return from their shooting ; and 
 she wanted to see Jack Carey and tell him to 
 stay near her as much as possible at the dance. 
 She could not explain why she wished it ; per 
 haps it was because she felt as though <c scenes " 
 were impossibilities under the frank, pure 
 gaze of such a devoted fellow. 
 
122 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 She stood on the knoll for a long time, un 
 til she was powdered with snow, and her hair, 
 where the flakes had caught in its curls, was 
 quite white, as though got up for some fancy- 
 dress occasion. 
 
 1 They had all proposed to dine early, and 
 drive to Saltonbrough House, which was about 
 ten miles off. Now a ten-mile drive in the 
 country on a snowy night is not a thing to 
 "hanker arter," unless the goal to be reached 
 is a very attractive one. Ruth put off the 
 necessity of preparing for it until she began 
 to fear that they would be late for the ball, as 
 it was already growing dusk. 
 
 A superstitious fear came over her, and she 
 kept saying to herself mechanically, under 
 her breath " When I see the men come out 
 of the woods, if Jack is ahead of the others, 
 I m saved ; but if Will Dunston is first, I m 
 lost." She watched with straining eyes all 
 down the park the paths which led out of the 
 big wood, feeling as though her destiny de 
 pended on who would be the foremost to 
 emerge. A cold nose was pushed into her 
 ungloved hand, which was hanging by her 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 123 
 
 side. She started, and looked down to find 
 that it was only one of the fox-hound puppies. 
 The hound gazed up at her with his brown, 
 questioning eyes, and wagged his tail sol 
 emnly. 
 
 Looking up she saw some dark objects ad 
 vancing quickly through the whirling snow. 
 The one ahead of the others swung along at a 
 tremendous pace, and soon outstripped them. 
 His giant shoulders breasted the wind and the 
 storm without wavering. Peering earnestly 
 at him, she caught her breath with horror, 
 and turning on her heel fled back to the house, 
 and on up to her room ; for she saw, alas ! 
 that it was Will Dunston ! 
 
 * Love horns us, and hoofs us or gives us our wings." 
 
 ELLA WHEELBB WILOOZ. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 When the viols played their best 
 Lamps above and laughs below, 
 
 Love me sounded like a jest 
 Fit for yet or fit for no." 
 
 E. 
 
 THE ball that night at Saltern brough House 
 was a very brilliant affair. The old place had 
 brightened up, and wore a gala appearance. 
 Everybody was delighted. Ruth looked rav 
 ishing, and all eyes, women s as well as men s, 
 followed her admiringly, as she swayed to and 
 fro to the rhythm of the dance. 
 
 Colonel Dalton, looking handsomer, if pos 
 sible, than in the morning, was " most awfully 
 kind to all the pretty women so they ex 
 pressed their pleased sense of his attentions. 
 Ruth assured him that she felt quite grateful 
 when he asked her for a polka ; in reply to 
 which he beamed, and looked taller than ever. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 125 
 
 After a turn or two on the shining floor, she 
 whispered sweetly to him that she much pre 
 ferred sitting out with him in some " quiet 
 corner ; " whereupon the Colonel tucked her 
 little hand tenderly under his great, strong 
 arm, and walked off with her triumphantly, 
 while he cast a withering look on the vapid 
 youths the world calls dancing men, who were 
 standing in inane groups against the walls, 
 like show figures in a Jew shop window, where 
 they exhibit ready-made clothing. The Colonel 
 was a good talker, and Ruth liked to hear his 
 ringing, hearty laugh, when he told one of his 
 best stories. 
 
 Will Dunston was leaning against a cur 
 tain, his gloomy face standing out in high 
 relief against the crimson folds. He had not 
 danced with Kuth the whole night, and did 
 not know where to find her at the present 
 time. He was wildly unhappy ; for the beauty 
 of the woman had entered into his heart in 
 earnest, and was eating into it like a can 
 kerous worm. Feeling that he must speak to 
 her, and see her, if only for a moment, he 
 rushed frantically through the rooms, coming 
 
126 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 at last upon her and the Colonel, just as the 
 latter had delivered one of his best bon-mots. 
 They were both laughing merrily, and the 
 Colonel s gray beard was bristling at his own 
 wit. 
 
 Will Dunston checked his haste, and walked 
 leisurely over to them, all the while bursting 
 with rage at Ruth because she could be so 
 mirthful while he was so wretched. 
 
 " I think this is our dance, Mrs. Bronson," 
 he said, smiling down at her, while his black 
 mustache curled up, showing his teeth, large 
 and white like a wolf s. 
 
 "Really? Why I hadn t any idea. The 
 time has passed so delightfully," she an 
 swered, rising and taking Will Dunston s arm, 
 and smiling back her prettiest smile at the 
 handsome Colonel. 
 
 The Colonel was very fond of the gay little 
 American, and was never happier than when 
 he had her for a listener, for he was always 
 sure of her merry, catching laugh at the right 
 moment. How different she was from his 
 English friends those unreasonable ladies who 
 would put up their fans and yawn after hearing 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 127 
 
 his pet story about his wife s canaries for the 
 seventeenth time ! 
 
 Buth always had a ready laugh in reserve. 
 Not that she yearned particularly for the story 
 of the canaries for the seventeenth time ; but 
 because she liked the narrator, his weather- 
 beaten face, and jolly ways ; thoroughly ad 
 miring him, notwithstanding his one little 
 failing too frequent relapse into anecdot- 
 age. 
 
 " Why do you try to make a fool of that 
 man, too ? " Will Dunston asked fiercely. She 
 looked up at him quickly, and a defiant, reck 
 less mood came over her. Laughing in a 
 cruel, sly way, she answered : 
 
 " Oh, one must do something to to make 
 one forget ; and besides, I m not making a 
 fool of Colonel Dalton ; I haven t such power ; 
 he s too sensible for that ; and perhaps I m 
 too fond of him." She began to feel Will 
 Dunston s strong nature overpowering her as 
 usual. It was always so, she found, the mo 
 ment she was in his presence. 
 
 < What do you try to forget, Buth ? Ah ! 
 I know. You think you deceive me ; but I 
 
128 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 see you don t love your husband, and you 
 are unhappy." 
 
 Ruth started back in disgust, and tried to 
 draw her hand from his arm, but he held it 
 tight. She could do nothing without drawing 
 upon herself the attention of the many people 
 around. 
 
 U A woman craves love. Money alone 
 will not satisfy her. She wants the affec 
 tion and devotion of a man her own age, 
 and not the jealous adoration of an elderly 
 husband, who imagines that jewels, toilettes, 
 horses, etc., will atone for the lack of 
 what every passionate heart demands," he 
 continued. 
 
 Ruth hated herself for allowing him to talk 
 on. "Why did she not appeal to her friends, 
 and tell them how this man was tempting 
 her, and slowly and surely strangling her 
 womanhood? She tried to speak, but her 
 voice died away into a whisper ; and she 
 found herself wondering if after all life con 
 tained something more to be desired than the 
 calm devotion of one good, passionless man. 
 Then she heard Will Dunston s voice again, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 129 
 
 hollow and muffled, as though speaking to her 
 from some other world. 
 
 " A woman craves love," he repeated, " and 
 must have it. She starves and is incomplete 
 without it. Ah ! Ruth, if you would only let 
 me love you ! If you would only come away 
 with me somewhere, I would devote myself 
 to you. Come with me now this very mo 
 ment. I will be your slave. Ah ! how I love 
 you!" 
 
 They were standing in the shadow of a gal 
 lery at the end of a long room. Ruth watched 
 the whirling couples in the waltz, and mechani 
 cally counted the garlands and candles on the 
 wall near her- She did not know how to act, 
 feeling as she did the powerful fascination of 
 this man. She could now understand Mil 
 dred s infatuation only too well. Somehow 
 her voice sounded to herself like a stranger s, 
 as she evasively answered <c Yes perhaps 
 some day, Will ; some day ; but not now. 
 Oh! it is all so sudden and fearful! You 
 will kill me ! " and she covered her burning 
 face with her trembling hands. 
 
 She felt his hot breath on her shoulder, as 
 
130 THE SHADOW OP DE8IKE. 
 
 lie bent down and whispered savagely : " Yes, 
 Ruth ! I will kill you some day : the day 
 when I find that you do not mean to keep 
 your word ! " 
 
 His arm tightened cruelly, hurting her hand 
 in its grip. Jack Carey, who was watching 
 her from a distance, wondered why she stag 
 gered so; and concluded that she was over- 
 fatigued with her day s shooting. How lovely 
 he thought her! Every undulation of that 
 small, graceful form was a poem to him. 
 Jack Carey knew that the Ruth of that night 
 was not the same Ruth who was his sweet 
 heart of years ago. He realized with a hor 
 rible shock that her eyes were not as pure as 
 when he had last gazed into them ; but he 
 loved ah ! yes, he loved her ; and he hugged 
 his secret to his heart jealously. The bloom 
 of her mature womanhood intoxicated him 
 much more than the frail flower-beauty of her 
 girlhood had done ; and it maddened him to 
 think that it was so, for his boyish love-dream 
 had been that she should be a sort of modern 
 Elaine; pale, fair, guileless, yielding herself 
 to his love without knowing or understanding 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 131 
 
 why ; loving as with an angel s love : giving all, 
 asking nothing not even expecting toll, com 
 plimentary or otherwise. And now now he 
 desired a woman whose soul he feared he 
 almost knew was like Messalina s. Every 
 thing seemed fade, without savor or salt ; for 
 he wanted her ; and he groaned inwardly 
 when he remembered how impossible of ful 
 filment was his dream. 
 
 She was dancing with Captain Sultingham 
 then ; and her beautiful face showed pale in 
 comparison with the foreign-looking one of 
 the soldier, which was darkened by many 
 scorching eastern suns. He envied all the 
 savage things at that moment, because they 
 could cry out when unhappy. He envied the 
 sea because it could moan when it was hurt 
 against the rocks ; and the pines, because they 
 could shriek aloud all through the stormy 
 nights, or cry if they pleased, in their low, 
 piteous way, like a woman grieved, or an un 
 loved child. 
 
 He watched Ruth until she had finished 
 the waltz with Captain Sultingham. Then 
 he walked swiftly over to her, and begged 
 
132 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 her to go down to the supper-room, and have 
 a glass of champagne. It would do her good, 
 he declared, as he noticed that her sweet 
 mouth drooped wearily. 
 
 " How good you are, Jack !" she sighed, and 
 clung to his arm, almost fainting with the heat 
 of the room. They went silently down the 
 grand old stair-case to the supper-room, where 
 they found crowds of thirsty people. Lady 
 Saltonbrough, looking lovely, if so frivolous a 
 term can be applied to such a noble specimen 
 of English womanhood, kindly told Jack 
 Carey to go over to a corner table, where they 
 would l>e more comfortably served. 
 
 At the next table to them, Ruth observed 
 Mr. and Mrs. Danesford, neighbors of Mil 
 dred s. Mrs. Danesford was a doll of a 
 woman, with a perfect figure, and a " sweetly 
 pretty * face, as the school girls say. Her 
 pink tulle gown garlanded with roses, buds, 
 and leaves, was in delightful harmony with her 
 exquisite face. Ruth drew Jack Carey s atten 
 tion to Mrs. Danesford, and then told him of 
 the story which many of the county people 
 had told her, of a run in which the thorough- 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 188 
 
 bred little ]ady had participated last season. 
 It appeared that hounds were running hard, 
 and that Mrs. Danesford and her stolid lord 
 and master accidentally jumped into a sheep- 
 pen. Her mare popped out again, of course, 
 without a moment s thought ; but on turning 
 to her husband, Mrs. Danesford saw to her 
 dismay that he was hopelessly stuck, as his 
 horse refused to jump out. She turned like a 
 flash on to the line again, leaving her luckless 
 "hubbie" in the lurch. The love of sport 
 had been running for too many centuries in 
 the veins of the little lady s ancestors for her 
 to be capable of stopping behind to find out 
 why her husband s horse would not jump. 
 
 It was whispered about the next day that 
 he had opened his heart to the extent of giv 
 ing a farmer s lad sixpence to pull out a hurdle 
 and thus enable him to walk through ; but of 
 course that was only a gossipy rumor. The 
 hounds rolled their fox over about ten miles 
 away ; and poor Mr. Danesford did not see 
 them until the next meet. 
 
 Most of the guests at the ball drove home 
 about three o clock. The snow had stopped 
 
134 THE BHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 falling, and the night was curiously bright ; 
 every object showed up big and clearly out 
 lined, its form exaggerated by reflection from 
 the snow. 
 
 Ruth sank down in the corner of the car 
 riage, letting the fur robes slip down on to the 
 floor, unheeded. She was deadly weary, and 
 the tramp of the horses hoofs on the frozen 
 road seemed to beat into her tired brain, as 
 though trying to keep up with the riotous 
 pulse of her guilty heart. 
 
 " Eetribution, retribution !" was the ejacu 
 lation of her agony, as the steady old horses 
 trotted on through the snow to Forest House. 
 
 " Love is not love 
 Which alters when it alteration finds." 
 
 SHAKKBPBARB. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 " If your horse be well bred and in blooming condition, 
 
 Both up to the country and up to your weight, 
 O ! then give the reins to your youthful ambition ; 
 Sitdownin your saddle and keep his head straight." 
 
 FOE two days it had been thawing (much to 
 the delight of the hunting set); and after a 
 few more hours of sunshine almost as warm 
 as that of spring, the frost disappeared alto 
 gether, as though by magic ; and the snow 
 left behind from its downy dress only a few 
 fluffy feathers dispersed in obscure corners 
 and hollows. 
 
 Charles, the huntsman, had stopped while 
 exercising hounds at all the houses for miles 
 around where they preserved, to tell the game 
 keeper to stop the fox-earths, as hounds 
 would meet at Forest House the next morn 
 ing. Egon Marsdon, a youth of fifteen, who 
 
186 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 was cramming with a tutor at a neighboring 
 rectory, begged to go out that night with 
 Darley to assist. His doting mamma im 
 agined that he was studious ; but he was seen 
 oftener with horses or with his gun than with 
 his books. He was a brave and handsome 
 lad, and rode and shot well ; so his friends 
 particularly the girls forgave him many 
 things. 
 
 Mrs. Olney had arrived for a few days visit 
 at Forest House. She possessed a hunting- 
 box somewhere in the Shires, and had been 
 having some fine sport until the frost came 
 on. Then she fled to gayer quarters, and had 
 been paying many visits to country houses. 
 She and her husband had come to England 
 for the annual hunting ; but the claims of 
 business had prevailed, and Mr. Olney had 
 left shortly after, while his wife had made 
 arrangements to go on to Paris and stay until 
 he returned for her in the spring. 
 
 Mrs. Olney took a great fancy to Egon 
 Marsdon, and pronounced him a " charming 
 boy." It was she who was responsible for 
 spoiling him ; she often encouraged him to 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 137 
 
 ride with her when he should have been at 
 his studies. He thanked her though, after he 
 grew to manhood, for teaching him the love 
 of interesting books, music, and art ; for he 
 had become a little man of the world under 
 her influence before the down appeared on 
 his round face. 
 
 It was amusing to watch his superior airs, 
 and his affectation of being " bored," when 
 any girl of his own age approached him ; such 
 girls he calmly dubbed " brats. 5 He seemed 
 only in his element when Mrs. Olney was 
 near, and made secret plans for the future 
 when Mrs. Olney would be Mrs. Egon Mars- 
 don. Mrs. Olney, by the way, was ten years 
 his senior. 
 
 She enjoyed playing on the strings of this 
 strange, fresh instrument, " Puppy love." It 
 amused her ; she knew that such boyish in 
 sanities never last, and that when he grew older 
 he would not like her the less for having 
 taught him a few of the ways of the mad old 
 world. 
 
 The day of the meet at Forest House 
 dawned cold and gray ; a mild wind was 
 
 [VFI7BRS1TT] 
 
138 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 blowing, and the sky was cloudy. Ruth 
 jumped out of bed early, all eager for the 
 sport. She had been getting herself "fit 
 lately by long, quiet canters across country. 
 
 Hastily throwing on her habit, she de 
 scended to the large dining-room, where 
 many of the people she had met lately in the 
 country were gathered. Outside in the court 
 yard, Mr. Sawyer the master Charles, the 
 huntsman, and the first and second whips 
 sat their horses as though they were a part of 
 themselves. The lady-pack, eighteen couples 
 in all, lay around them in perfect control, 
 without a whimper. Several of the smart 
 young men looked, in their well-cut boots 
 and immaculate " pink, * and violet button 
 holes, almost too correct for hard riding. 
 
 Mildred and her husband did the honors of 
 the hunt breakfast most hospitably. 
 
 Grooms were trotting up the roads to the 
 house in all directions, with led horses ; while 
 carriages rattled up containing the wives, 
 daughters, or sweethearts of many of the 
 hunting men. 
 
 What a gloriously amiable and divine 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 139 
 
 creature a certain type of Englishwoman is ! 
 She will resort to almost any economy, and 
 uncomplainingly forego her dearest wishes, so 
 as to enable her lord and master the luxury 
 of keeping hunters. These women will drive 
 to the meets in traps which apparently they 
 have inherited from some ancestor out of the 
 Ark drawn by hollow-eyed animals with 
 forelegs like interrogation points. They will 
 jog about from cover to cover, with a bright 
 expectant smile on their poor, patient faces ; 
 nay, they will even watch the men shorten 
 their stirrups, to gallop straight away when 
 hounds find, with the same delight as though 
 they themselves had "for ard, for ard, gone 
 away ! " with the rest of the field. 
 
 O, you good ladies! We who are not as 
 brave, loving and self-sacrificing as you, are 
 yet aware of your superiority, and feel sure 
 that although many of the naughty, selfish 
 men do not appreciate you as you deserve, you 
 will surely have your reward in that " better 
 land " of which the tender poetess, Jean In- 
 gelow, speaks so pathetically in " Songs of 
 Seven." 
 
140 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Waldo Bronson had returned to Forest 
 House by an early train that morning. He 
 had been away on pressing business matters, 
 and was as " pleased as Punch" when he 
 found himself back in time for the meet. He 
 was as eager about it as Ruth, and took much 
 pains in selecting two steady hunters from 
 Flaike & Co., reliable horse-dealers at a vil 
 lage in the county. 
 
 Ruth felt as though the day was perfect in 
 deed when she saw that her husband would 
 accompany her. Waldo Bronson was in quite 
 boyishly high spirits. His swarthy face 
 glowed with a deep blush of pleasure when 
 he mounted his wife on the thoroughbred bay 
 which Flaike had recommended. 
 
 Mildred rode a black " Irishman renowned 
 for c< timber and " water," and with a mouth 
 so "soft that a child could ride him. 
 
 The two little Gale girls, " Pickles " and 
 "Polly" (how they had earned such sobri 
 quets no one had ever been able to find out), 
 were of the party. Notwithstanding their 
 pet names, they were thorough little sports 
 women. Ruth declared that she had never 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 141 
 
 seen a woman go straighter to hounds than 
 "Pickles "did. 
 
 The Gale family had been very wealthy. 
 They sprang from an old English stock, many 
 of whose scions had done loyal service to 
 their kings in former times. The present 
 branch had always entertained most lavishly 
 until the father died; then they found that 
 they had to leave the grand house and live in 
 a small cottage. 
 
 Mrs. Gale, a distinguished-looking woman, 
 who gave one the impression of being more 
 like a handsome elder sister than the mother 
 of so many tall girls, managed somehow to 
 keep a hunter for "Pickles" and "Polly," 
 which they rode on alternate days. Maude, 
 the other girl, was the beauty of the family. 
 She never rode, but spent her time in society. 
 Many people predicted a great match for her. 
 
 The dear friends that their father had en 
 tertained so well in his time, seldom now even 
 remembered the existence of the widow and 
 her children. Occasionally some unusually 
 grateful soul would have a twinge of con 
 science or gout ? if the latter, then a keep- 
 
142 THTE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 
 
 sake from the old Burgundy from Mr. Gale s 
 cellars, of which they had drunk many a bot 
 tle in the good old days. These people would 
 sometimes find it in their hearts to ask the 
 girls to tea or garden-parties. 
 
 Promptly at eleven o clock Mr. Sawyer 
 trotted off to the cover to be first drawn, in 
 the wake of his pack, followed by a straggling 
 field, chatting and smoking. 
 
 Darley, the game-keeper, smiled knowingly 
 when Ruth bade him good-morning. Touch 
 ing his cap, he walked along for a moment by 
 the side of her hunter, saying in a loud whis 
 per, " You ll ave a goodish gallop to-day, 
 m 1 dy ; I caught sight o a fine dorg-fox lawst 
 night. Ruth smiled kindly down on him, 
 and thought that it would be unfortunate for 
 poor Darley if they didn t " find " and " ave 
 a goodish gallop, as he expressed it. His 
 master was for the fox, and Darley against 
 him, and it was whispered that between the 
 game-keepers and the petty Scotch farmers, 
 with their barbed wire and their prejudice, 
 Reynard s life was not worth the living. 
 
 The farmers did not want hounds over their 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 143 
 
 land, though were it not for hunting, where 
 would be the market for their corn, oats, hay, 
 straw, young horses, etc.? The game-keepers 
 had not much good blood for the fox, because 
 he had a playful habit of stealing the eggs off 
 the nests, and of sticking his sharp teeth into 
 the necks of the young birds. 
 
 Many people suggested that the fox had 
 other sins to answer for as well as his own. 
 There was a dealer at a market close by, who 
 bargained secretly for all the game brought 
 him. Although, of course, Darley was incapa 
 ble of such underhand dealings, for when the 
 bags were lighter than they should be, he 
 would assume a fine look of astonishment, and 
 blurt out indignantly that it was that u blawsted 
 varmint again." 
 
 " Ah ! good-morning, Mrs. Bronson !" and 
 Dr. Wall rode up on a raking chestnut, his 
 round, rosy face beaming with good nature. 
 He was the county doctor, and quite a popular 
 character. He could mend a broken rib, or 
 sing you a rollicking song, with equal enjoy 
 ment. When he could do so, he would often 
 steal a day off to have a gallop. Always when 
 
144 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 hunting, he carried a tiny, innocent-looking 
 black case strapped to his saddle the sort of 
 case in which ordinary people carry sandwiches ; 
 but this innocent-looking case contained sur 
 gical instruments, to be used in unpleasant 
 emergencies. A gruesome pal was that tiny 
 case ; but most useful, once, when a lady got 
 hung up while attempting to crash through a 
 " bull-finch when hounds were in full cry. 
 Her horse, becoming frightened, ran away 
 with her, kicking her head with every stride. 
 When rescued by Dr. Wall and Colonel Dai- 
 ton, she was quite black in the face from 
 hanging head downwards so long. She was 
 frightfully bruised, and had several bones 
 broken. Dr. Wall attended her successfully ; 
 and she is hunting again, I hear, down in the 
 Shires, her good old English love for sport 
 having prevailed notwithstanding her " close 
 call." 
 
 The voice of the master encouraging his 
 hounds was answered in a few moments by an 
 excited whimper from " Prudence," a young 
 hound that no one trusted much. Kuth loved 
 to watch the pack work, as they ran feverishly 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 145 
 
 here and there through the bushes and bracken, 
 rapidly waving their sterns. 
 
 Suddenly Prudence flung out her tongue in 
 triumphant music, and led the pack straight 
 through the big ride and over the pastures. 
 The field spread out to gallop and jump. Ruth 
 tried to follow her husband, but got separated 
 by the crush in the big wood. Keeping well 
 to the left of the hounds, she, " Pickles Gale 
 and Egon Marsdon had a race for it during 
 the next twenty minutes. 
 
 Several nasty blind places had thrown most 
 of the field out, and when they checked near 
 the wind-mill, only a few riders were in sight. 
 They soon picked it up again, and rattled away. 
 About half a field ahead of her Ruth saw 
 a trim, natty figure, sitting down close in her 
 saddle, and going as straight as a stag; she 
 recognized in her the bright-faced little woman 
 who was staying at the master s a Mrs. Sim- 
 son one of the pluckiest riders to hounds 
 with the Pytchley. On first meeting her 
 Ruth had admired her gold-red hair, which 
 she wore in tiny short curls all over her head. 
 
 At last when they came into the neutral 
 
146 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 country they rolled him over. Mrs. Simson 
 and " Pickles " Gale were the first in at the 
 death ; and " Pickles " being the most enthu 
 siastic, was presented with the " brush;" 
 while the mask was given to Egon Marsdon. 
 
 It was growing late, and Ruth trotted back 
 to Forest House, after giving her hunter some 
 gruel with a pint of old ale in it, at an inn 
 hard by. It is wonderful how much ale, or 
 beer, will refresh a horse after a long run, and 
 how soon he will get a taste for it. " Pickles " 
 Gale lived in the same direction as Forest 
 House, so they both jogged on down the road 
 together. How long the miles seem after a 
 day s hunting ! The way stretches out inter 
 minably, and we feel like a bottle of uncorked 
 champagne, left over from the last night s 
 supper. 
 
 The excitement over, we rise mechanically 
 to the slow trot of our tired beast, with our 
 eyes fixed stupidly between his ears, and our 
 coat collar turned up to keep the spiteful rain 
 from trickling down our spinal column, while 
 we long for our hot bath, wrapper, and tea. 
 
 On reaching home, "Pickles" slipped off 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 147 
 
 her horse, and rang the stable gate-bell. 
 " Good-night, dearie!" said Ruth, arousing 
 herself. " Don t forget to come to-morrow 
 afternoon and bring some friends. We ll re 
 hearse Dancing in the Barn. >: 
 
 "Never fear, I ll come. It will be fun 
 making that tiresome Egon go through his 
 paces. Wasn t the run jolly, though ? " an 
 swered the little sportswoman. She had no 
 other thought really in her pretty head but 
 horses and hounds. 
 
 Ruth trotted on through the rain, and won 
 dered if her husband had already returned to 
 the house. She felt uneasy for fear he might 
 come to grief, because she knew that he had 
 ridden very little lately, and his horse was a 
 raw one, against which Flaike had warned him. 
 Around by the lake drive, she saw her hus 
 band coming on foot to meet her. 
 
 " I thought you would be returning by 
 this way, so I came out to scare off the 
 ghosts/ he called out, while his dear, kind 
 face brightened with welcome. Ruth noticed 
 that he had changed his clothes. 
 
 " That brute I rode chucked me headlong 
 
148 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 into a brook, and the last I saw of him he 
 was disappearing over a ploughed field. I 
 had a two-mile walk to do until I found a cart 
 to bring me back here. It proved to be a 
 butcher s cart ; springless quite ; but the 
 lively jolting has saved me from pneumonia, 
 I reckon." 
 
 " We had a fine run of over forty minutes," 
 said Ruth, laughing at his doleful story. 
 
 Ah, indeed ! Well, it s just my luck," he 
 answered disconsolately. 
 
 The warm, cosy library was full of guests 
 having tea when Ruth passed by the open 
 door on the way upstairs, but she resisted the 
 temptation of joining them, and went reso 
 lutely to her own room to take a hot bath 
 a luxury in which she generally indulged after 
 a hard day. It took the aches and crinks out, 
 she said. 
 
 They all gathered in the music-room after 
 dinner ; the house party, that is, and about 
 half a dozen of the neighbors who had 
 dined there. Most of these were fresh 
 and charming girls, pleasing to the eyes 
 of those world -worn souls who had re- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 149 
 
 turned like the prodigal son to the bread 
 and butter of stupid pastoral life. It was 
 altogether a gay company, notwithstand 
 ing the buttercup element. Marjorie Brice 
 and her sister Lucia, two beauties a 1 Es- 
 pagnole, were singing Braga s Serenade ; Miss 
 Rimmelle accompanying them on the piano, 
 and another amiable artiste supplying the man 
 dolin part. 
 
 Miss Bliss (a cheery little girl who should 
 have taken the prizes for golf and long walks) 
 sang "Fiddle and I," a rather violent con 
 trast to the serenade, perhaps, but an equally 
 enjoyable performance. Then Will Dunston 
 proposed " Sailor, a hunting song with a 
 ringing chorus. His rich baritone voice quite 
 made them forget how long the song was. 
 
 I. 
 
 " The hounds meet to-day by the turn-cross way, 
 The weather nips keen and the clouds are gray, 
 As we mount our horses and trot along 
 And chat of sport or some old hunting song ; 
 While farmer, squire, their lordships and all 
 Are castin their lots to win, run or a fall ; 
 And the words which ring in our heads on the way 
 Are A cloudy day makes fine scent, so they say. 
 
150 THE BHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Then heigh ! for the pup whose tongue is too free ! 
 He ll settle soon and give points to one s gee, 
 Of tough stay-in power, of gallop and nerve, 
 Of flyin their fences thout ever a swerve. 
 
 II. 
 
 As we file singly alongside the field 
 
 Where late crops are stacked and promise good yield, 
 
 A dog-fox jumps neath my hunter s heel, 
 
 Is soon out of sight ; while one and all feel 
 
 His cunnin in wood, grass-land, or heather, 
 
 May baffle the hunt and hounds together. 
 
 A hat is held high on the sky line gray 
 
 "We pause ; then the cry of Hark ! Forward, away ! 
 
 Then heigh ! for the hound who keeps to his line, 
 Who leads with a will and with nose so fine 
 That be the fox ever so wily and sly, 
 He knows he must * toddle before his full cry. 
 
 III. 
 
 Steady, old Sailor ! We bound to the right 
 Where turf s good goin , and hounds are in sight. 
 He gathers himself with one mighty spring, 
 Clears the big gate of a big oxen ring ; 
 Then fast o er the meadows fast o er the brook, 
 Where brown leaves dance in each eddy in nook ; 
 Then hedges and drops he takes in his stride 
 And snorts with delight, as quick up the side 
 Of a hill all tawny with long grass and heath 
 He climbs, and soon leaves all the pastures beneath. 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 151 
 
 Then heigh ! for the fox with heart so brave 
 To take to the open his brush to save ! 
 May he not be broken we one and all pray 
 But live on to give us another such day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The music of hounds fills our hearts with joy, 
 And I call to Sailor For ard, old boy ! 
 For the fox is dead-beat his brush drags low 
 As he hides where mountain-ashberries grow. 
 But his heart was stout ; lie fought to the last, 
 While his pack tumbled o er each other fast ; 
 Like a flash the master lights in the fray, 
 And hounds clamor loud for their well-earned prey. 
 Grave Reynard s held high up over their noses ; 
 The scent which is wafted is sweeter n roses. 
 
 Then heigh 1 for the master with voice so round, 
 He warms faint hearts and cold blood with its sound ; 
 And heigh! for the huntsmen and whippers-in true ; 
 They ve shown us fine sport, so we ll whoop em too. 
 
 V. 
 
 Sailor, old fellow ! I m proud of you, lad. 
 
 You ve carried me straight through runs good and bad. 
 
 "Never a whip nor a spur did I use. 
 
 Your soul s in hunting ; you never refuse ; 
 
 And I know as we homeward trot along 
 
 You re a gentleman sure ; and here s a song 
 
 Which well sing together. We ll talk of the run 
 
 When glasses are clinking, and wine glows red, 
 
 We ll drink to you, Sailor, and sing on to bed. 
 
152 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Then heigh ! for the hunter with Irish blood ! 
 No heart is so bold, no matter the stud ; 
 And heigh ! for old Sailor, the best of the lot, 
 Though often too eager, and sometimes too hot ! " 
 
 Ruth thought she had never seen Will 
 Dunston look so handsome before, as he sang 
 the song with his fine head thrown back 
 and his brown face glowing with animation. 
 Everyone joined in the chorus, whose vocifer 
 ous clamor made the old house ring. Such a 
 rollicking mood was a new phase in Will 
 Dunston s character. Mildred watched him 
 jealously with brooding eyes. How she hated 
 herself for her weakness how she hated her 
 self ! Rising wearily, she went over to a win 
 dow and peered out into the night. Unshed 
 tears scalded her eyes so she could scarcely 
 see. 
 
 " How dreary it all is ! How can I end it ? " 
 she asked herself. 
 
 She had managed to be thrown out of the 
 run that day, because she knew that he never 
 went " straight ; " she yearned to be near him, 
 to speak to him, to live in a fool s paradise, 
 and revel in the exquisite pain which her 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 153 
 
 unhappy passion gave her. Her resentment 
 against Ruth sickened her ; yet she could not 
 show it ; she was much too proud a woman 
 of the world for that. At last she was begin 
 ning to learn something of the frailty of poor 
 humanity; and the lesson made her inexpres 
 sibly desolate. Some sage once said that we 
 can feel more lonely in a crowd than in the 
 desert of Sahara. How big a bumper of life 
 that wise one must have drained ! 
 
 The night was growing colder, and the wind 
 whistled uncanny waltzes for the whirling 
 weather vanes up on the high turrets. The 
 plaintive cries of the restless deer rang out 
 above the storm. Instinct told them that 
 snowy days and comfortless nights had come 
 again. 
 
 Laura Lowe, a blonde, sweet-faced girl 
 from London, who was staying with Mil 
 dred sang " Aunt Dinah s Quilting Party," 
 to the accompaniment of her guitar. The 
 sadness of the melody touched some old 
 chords in Mildred s heart, and she found her 
 self being wafted in fancy back to " Ole 
 Virginny." She thought she was a child 
 
154 THE SHADOW OF DKBIRE. 
 
 once more with Will, laughing and romping 
 in the summer fields, and clambering over the 
 blackberry hedge down at the foot of the 
 orchard. She was reaching out to gather 
 the plumy pink and white flowers of the 
 crape-myrtle tree. Even in those halcyon 
 days he had been used to torture her in his 
 boyish way. Where had all the strength and 
 pride of her womanhood gone? Why did 
 she not send him away ? why ? why ? 
 
 She hugged a pitiable sort of hope to her 
 heart that he might after all come back to 
 her. He must, he should ! she would make 
 him! Else she would kill him for if he 
 were dead, then no one would possess him, she 
 sobbed ; and the tiger which is always more 
 or less sleeping in a southern nature leaped to 
 her eyes, and sent her blood hard and quick 
 through her veins. She clenched her hand 
 until the ring which was placed on her finger 
 to bind her " to love until death us do part, 1 
 cut into her flesh. Slowly her arms dropped 
 to her side. Her dreadful passion seemed to 
 faint within her as she murmured under her 
 breath : " No, not that ! anything but that ! 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 155 
 
 It will be easier for me to end it all in an 
 other way. And a new light broke over her 
 face. " Yes, I will do it ; they will think my 
 horse fell. They will never know never !" 
 
 " How very distraite we are to-night," said 
 a low, mocking voice at her side. She knew it 
 was Will Dunston : so without even glancing 
 up she walked over and joined the group 
 around the fire. She did not care to speak to 
 him just now, and had a morbid fear that if 
 she did, or if she looked into his eyes, she 
 might go mad and weep out loud her whole 
 miserable story. 
 
 George and Willie Eaton (two crack polo 
 players) were relating a run they had had with 
 the stag that day. All the Eaton family were 
 keen on sport ; and Willie was the proud pos 
 sessor of many blue ribbons. The girls rode 
 to hounds as well as most men. They all 
 danced well also, so of course they were much 
 sought after. 
 
 In the very midst of the boys story Bon- 
 ner announced the carriages ; and with many 
 pretty fashions of speech they all wished each 
 other good-night. 
 
156 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 What a bore are all these sweet lying for 
 malities of life and yet how inevitable ! 
 
 " When glasses are clinking, and wine glows red, 
 We ll drink to you, Sailor, and sing on to bed." 
 
 sang Ruth merrily, leaning over the bannisters 
 surrounded by the other women on their way 
 to bed. The men sang in answer from the 
 hall below : 
 
 " Then high for old Sailor, the best of the lot, 
 Though often too eager and sometimes too hot." 
 
 "How I hate it all!" moaned Mildred, a 
 burning flood of jealous rage tingling through 
 her veins. " How dare they laugh when I am 
 so wretched ? Ah ! how I wish I was dead !" 
 
 She walked slowly, like an old, old woman, 
 along the corridor to her own room. She 
 heard Ruth throw open a window, then call 
 out cheerily to her companions, "I do be 
 lieve it s freezing hard, girls ! We shall have 
 skating to-morrow if it keeps on all night." 
 This announcement was followed by sup 
 pressed whispers and giggles ; and then by the 
 swish-swish of the strings as the girls unlaced 
 each other s bodices. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 157 
 
 How she envied them their light hearts; 
 and, oh, how tired she was ! The wind wailed 
 around the old house and the snow fell softly 
 again like a benediction stealing in soothing 
 silence through her half-opened window. She 
 lay still and cold and white, with only one 
 prayer in her broken heart " Let me die ! 
 let me die !" 
 
 "Love, art thou sweet ? then bitter death must be ; 
 Love, thou art bitter ; sweet is death to me ; 
 O lore, if death he sweeter, let me die !" 
 
 TBNNTSON. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 * Clink on the ice of steel, 
 Glorious to hear and feel I 
 Bound of the balanced beat, 
 Swing of the swaying feet 1 
 Poise of the tilting light, 
 Fling of the flashing flight 1 
 O gladsome rushing glide ! 
 O life, and youth, and pride I" 
 
 CYI-AILI.. 
 
 THE winter moon, surrounded by her court 
 iers, the stars, seemed to be herself holding 
 high festival the night of the ice-party; up 
 there in her dark blue country she outrivaled 
 anything on our little planet in brilliancy. 
 The wind, which had been so boisterous the 
 night before, was hushed ; a still, intense cold 
 prevailed ; and the whole atmosphere seemed 
 waiting and expectant. 
 
 The park and lake glistened and sparkled 
 with snow and ice, illuminated by thousands 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 159 
 
 of tiny lamps which swung in garlands all 
 around and across the lake. It was the night 
 of the much-talked-of fancy-dress ice-party on 
 the lake in the grounds of Forest House. On 
 the quaint toy island in the centre of the 
 frozen water the Blue Hungarian band played 
 selections of merry music. Foreign-looking 
 men and women glided about waiting for the 
 signal to begin dancing. Gypsy-fires twinkled 
 here and there on the banks. Women who 
 could not skate were reclining in fur-lined 
 chairs, which were piloted about by devoted 
 cavaliers. 
 
 Presently from out a green bower scintillat 
 ing with shifting vari-colored lights, Mildred 
 arrived on the scene, accompanied by Will 
 Dunston. They were both costumed in yel 
 low and black velvet and sable in the Rus 
 sian style of a quarter of a century ago. 
 These two leaders were closely followed by 
 Poles, Norwegians, Icelanders, Greenlanders, 
 Swedes, Hollanders, Finlanders, and repre 
 sentatives of all the different nationalities of 
 the snow and ice lands. Pretty little Mrs. 
 John Howes was dressed as a Polish girl ; in 
 
160 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 her natty cap, tight-fitting jacket, and short 
 fur-edged skirt, with the beautiful high Polish 
 boots beneath, she made a ravishing picture ; 
 especially so to Waldo Bronson, who was also 
 in Polish costume. He was nothing if not 
 artistic, and was never known to cultivate any 
 but pretty women, amongst whom his wife, 
 always in his eyes eclipsed all the rest. 
 
 Jack Carey, as a Hollander, skated with 
 Mrs. Pointer-Stowe, the wife of a neighbor 
 ing magistrate, one of the jolliest women in 
 the county. To see her on skates was a dream. 
 She could do the most extraordinary feats in 
 figure-skating, and charmed everyone with 
 her grace and sureness of poise. 
 
 "Pickles" Gale and Egon Marsdon were 
 two quaint little Laplanders ; and all the others 
 were assorted in couples costumed in charac 
 ter appropriate to their individuality. So the 
 gay procession went on, circling, retreating, 
 and advancing, to the strains of a wild Hun 
 garian gypsy measure. The spectators, gath 
 ered in groups around the fires, held their 
 breath in admiration. 
 
 From the other end of the lake, under the 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 161 
 
 arching of a rustic bridge, a pale violet light 
 began to glow and deepen into amethystine 
 blushes. Gradually this hue turned to a saffron 
 one, whose shadows, melting under the kisses 
 of the changing lights, took on the appearance 
 of a vast grotto flashing with diamonds, ru 
 bies, and sapphires. A crowd of snow-sprites 
 swarmed out like a flurry of soft- winged birds. 
 Their feathery robes were snow-white, and 
 their hair streamed out like a golden glory as 
 they flew into a whirling dance. They were 
 led by the Frost-Queen, gleaming with pow 
 dered crystal. Her long hair was silvered, 
 and streamed over her shoulders in heavy 
 sweetness. Her eyes shone big and bright 
 under a casque of spangled lace, as she led 
 her baby-sprites, with swift gliding grace, 
 down the shimmering path of the moonlight. 
 The lusty North-men and women followed, 
 wonder-eyed, and eager to overtake each fairy 
 form. On and on they flew. The lights and 
 shadows were bewildering ; and when the 
 sprites circled again, they found that they had 
 lost their queen; but what did they care? 
 They were so gay of heart that they preferred 
 
162 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 to play at being chased by the limpid moon- 
 rays which seemed to pursue them in every 
 direction. 
 
 Far down the lake, where it goes to meet 
 the brook, the Frost-Queen sped away. The 
 moor-hens disturbed in their nests amongst 
 the rushes peeped over the edges with their 
 round, shy eyes after the flying vision ; then 
 tucked their heads under their wings again, 
 and whispered softly to each other in smoth 
 ered sleepy voices that it was only a sprite. 
 The gracious moon sent a lantern down to 
 her which, like a Will- o-the- wisp, flitted on 
 ahead. The deer dreaming on a bank near 
 by raised their beautiful heads, and then cud 
 dled warmer and closer to dream again ; and 
 the birds and other wild things saluted her as 
 she passed; for the fairy people were their 
 dearest friends. 
 
 The birds and insects often sang for the 
 fairies when they danced the silver hours 
 away in the leafy dells and the perfumed 
 woodland arbors. 
 
 The Frost Queen, who was none other than 
 Ruth Bronson, dashed swiftly through the 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 163 
 
 keen air, diamonding her path with the radia 
 tions of her frost-spangled garments. She 
 laughed aloud for very joy of the motion, 
 her untamed nature drunken with the bliss of 
 such freedom. Suddenly she became aware, 
 from a sound which grew nearer and nearer, 
 of steels grating on the ice behind her, that 
 she was being followed by someone who was 
 gradually gaining upon her. Balancing her 
 self for a sweeping curve, she saw, as she 
 turned for a second, a lithe, sinewy figure 
 bending forward in the effort to reach her ; 
 but all unconscious she flew on, on, on, to 
 where the willows grew thick and stooped low 
 down to the frozen brook. Here she heard 
 the whirr of skates; and wheeling around, 
 poised on one foot in a pool of subtle moon 
 light, she was confronted by the more subtle 
 pools of Will Dunston s great eyes. 
 
 He was panting with his long chase and the 
 mad emotion of his angry heart. 
 
 (i So you thought to get away from me ! " 
 he said breathlessly. " Ah ! Ruth ! how you 
 play me ! How I hate you ! " 
 
 She was so startled that she threw her hand 
 
164 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 up and caught a branch of a willow to keep 
 herself from falling. 
 
 " To get away from you ? " she echoed in 
 dignantly. "Why, I never thought of you! 
 I only knew that I was happy in my flight, 
 and in the sense of being alone." 
 
 " For three days you have avoided me ; and 
 why 1 Because you love me ; and you know 
 it as well as I and you are afraid. He 
 seized her almost roughly by the wrist ; and if 
 she had not steadied herself against the tree, 
 her feet would have slipped from under her. 
 An awful disgust of this man began to grow 
 in her heart; and yet she could not resist 
 his magnetism. This was always the old and 
 new story with her when alone with him ; 
 and now somehow she was terribly afraid of 
 her weakness. She wanted to scream out for 
 help ; but her friends were too far away to 
 hear. He hurt her wrist, and a low moan 
 escaped her. 
 
 "Ah, God! I have hurt you. Forgive 
 me, forgive me ! " he cried, stooping and ca 
 ressing the injured member as a dog might 
 do. " Come away with me, Ruth ! We will 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 165 
 
 go to the Orient, or to some land where you 
 can be all my own. To see you here sur 
 rounded by all these people makes me lust 
 for murder." 
 
 She shivered with cold and fright, and the 
 bough swayed in her grasp. He put out his 
 arm to support her. How small and svelte 
 she was even in her furs. His desire burned 
 fiercer. 
 
 "Don t talk to me now, Will!" she mur 
 mured, her face white and strained as she 
 looked back down the length of shadowy ice 
 which she had to retrace. " Come, be good 
 to me, dear, and take me back to the lake ! " 
 ehe cried desperately, her cunning woman s 
 brain using sweet deceit for safety s sake. 
 
 " I will never take you back, Euth. You 
 shall never leave me again ! You are mine 
 now mine, I tell you ; for you belong to me 
 by every law of nature and love." 
 
 He held her so close she could not move 
 away. The old sensuality mastered her, and 
 their lips met again. 
 
 " We will go to-morrow, my dearest, and 
 leave all this everyday world behind us. To- 
 
166 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 morrow 2 No ! let it be to-night. Ah, my 
 love ! My cold, white love ! swear to me 
 that you will swear it ! swear it ! " 
 
 The lamps from the lake danced like hun 
 dreds of fire-devils far off in the darkness ; 
 and a bitter wind began to wail over the land. 
 Ruth stirred uneasily in his arms, an awful 
 repugnance filling her being. 
 
 " I I must not promise that now. Let 
 me let me think about it. * 
 
 " You make me hate you more than ever 
 when you talk like that. "Why can t you be 
 true to yourself and natural for once ? " 
 
 " Ah ! let s go to the house ! I m so 
 deathly cold, she cried, trembling, her teeth 
 chattering more with fear than with the 
 weather. 
 
 " Poor little woman, I m a brute to keep 
 you standing in the snow so long. And he 
 took her hand while they both struck out for 
 the lake. " You would come with me if you 
 were free, would you not, Ruth ? " he asked 
 after a long silence. 
 
 They had made fast headway, and in a few 
 minutes would be amongst the merry crowd. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 167 
 
 "Tee! yes, I would if it were possible," 
 she answered nervously, too much afraid that 
 he would make another scene if she did not 
 acquiesce. 
 
 Slowly and surely the influence of this man 
 was taking a firm hold upon her ; and she 
 vowed to herself with a terrified sob that she 
 would never be alone with him again, where 
 he could exercise that curious power which 
 numbed her womanhood and made her forget 
 her duty. 
 
 Gliding into the midst of the crowd of 
 skaters she found her husband. Clutching 
 his arm like a frightened child, she whispered, 
 " Take me up to the house, Waldo ! I m so 
 tired." 
 
 He looked at her sharply, and wondered 
 what was the matter ; for he knew that she 
 would not desert such a pleasant pastime un 
 less she was ill. He feared, then, that some 
 thing had happened to her ; for she declared 
 that she was perfectly well. " Only so tired, 
 dearie !" she answered, clinging nervously to 
 his arm. 
 
 Waldo Bronson never asked his wife ques- 
 
168 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 tions ; he was too noble, and too much a man 
 of the world. He also knew human nature 
 well enough to be sure that if she wanted to 
 tell him anything she would do so without 
 questioning, and that if he asked her and she 
 did not want to tell him, she would well, 
 prevaricate. 
 
 He felt her slender limbs tremble against 
 him when they stopped for a moment s breather 
 at the top of the hill. He noticed that her 
 face was ghastly white, and that the corners 
 of her mouth drooped piteously. Some un 
 canny presentiment told him that she must 
 have undergone an unusual shock that night 
 to cause such a transformation ; but he said 
 never a word, and nestled her hand lovingly 
 under the sleeve of his great fur coat ; then 
 trudged on in sympathetic silence. 
 
 She loved him more dearly than ever for 
 his silence; and when she went to bed she 
 begged him to sit by her and hold her hand 
 until she fell asleep. She looked like a fair 
 child, with her soft hair falling negligently, 
 and the dainty lace on her night-gown cluster 
 ing around her throat. Her eye-lashes made 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 169 
 
 deep blue shadows on her cheeks as she slept. 
 A deep sadness crept over his spirit, for he 
 felt that he would not be with her much 
 longer ; he had a foreboding as of the shadow 
 of death s wings hovering over him. He tried 
 to reason away such old-fashioned supersti 
 tions ; but they would not go. Softly bend 
 ing he kissed her broad, white forehead, where 
 the little curls waved carelessly back. She 
 tossed for a moment in her sleep, and he held 
 his breath to keep from awaking her ; then, 
 turning, tiptoed out of the room to his own 
 chamber. He did not care to return to the 
 skaters, his heart was too heavy ; so he occu 
 pied himself packing his boxes, as he had to 
 leave early the next morning for Paris. 
 While he was gone, he and Mildred had 
 planned for her to make a tour of visits in the 
 neighboring counties. He felt disinclined to 
 leave her, she looked so ill ; but King Busi 
 ness was dominant with Waldo Bronson al 
 ways ; and he shut the lids of his boxes down 
 with a determined snap, and went over to the 
 window, where he leaned out and looked 
 towards the lake, with its still flickering lamps. 
 
170 THE SHADOW OF DEBERE. 
 
 Faint musical laughter rippled up to him, as 
 the gay revelers made their way to the house, 
 where a cheery supper awaited them in 
 the large dining-room. He could not shake 
 off the sadness of his mood ; over all he 
 seemed to feel the strange shadow of the 
 wings of death, and to see the pleading, mys 
 terious eyes of his unhappy wife, and the 
 piteous droop of her mouth. 
 
 The little snow-sprites trooped up the drive 
 to the door, famishing and sleepy. They had 
 forgotten all about the disappearance of the 
 Frost-Queen, in the excitement and novelty of 
 being allowed to stay up until eleven o clock ; 
 and now only wanted some hot bouillon very 
 earthy nourishment indeed for elves, so Mr. 
 Holbourne chaffingly assured them. And 
 then they went to bed, tired, but delighted; 
 and dreamed all night of playing tennis 
 in the bright courts of the sky, with stars 
 for balls, comets for racquets, and the 
 moon for a big marquee, where their 
 hostess, in the guise of a lovely Russian 
 Princess, served tea and cakes to them most 
 lavishly. 
 
THE BHADOW OF DE8IKE. 171 
 
 Wynken, Blynken and Nod one night 
 
 Sailed off in a wooden shoe- 
 Sailed on a river of crystal light 
 
 Into a sea of dew ; 
 Where are you going, and what do you wish ?* 
 
 The old moon asked the three ; 
 1 We have come to fish for the herring fish 
 That live in this beautiful sea ; 
 Nets of silver and gold have we. 
 Said Wynken, 
 Blynken 
 And Nod." 
 
 EUGKNK FIELD. 
 
XII. 
 
 11 To dream eo well, to do o ill- 
 There comes the bitter-sweet that makes the sin." 
 
 LK GALLIBHHB. 
 
 THE next morning, while Waldo Bronson 
 was hastily breakfasting, so as to be in time 
 to catch the 9-up express to connect with the 
 Paris club-train, he was greatly surprised by 
 seeing Kuth walk in already dressed for 
 traveling. The gray camel s-hair gown, with 
 waistcoat and edgings of gray astrachan, and 
 the soft gray toque which completed the cos 
 tume, made her look more childish than 
 usual. Something told him that she wished 
 to accompany him to Paris. She laughed 
 nervously, and finished buttoning her gloves. 
 
 "What a bore I am, Waldo! But I m 
 going abroad with you; sudden, isn t it? 
 Martha packed my boxes early this morning, 
 and here I am." 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 173 
 
 She poured herself out a cup of coffee, and 
 drank it with feverish eagerness, while watch 
 ing him timidly. 
 
 " You see," she continued, " I am the same 
 Bohemian you first met. But joking apart, 
 Waldo, it s really freezing here, and I should 
 like to go to the south to the Riviera or 
 somewhere to get thawed out ; I haven t been 
 comfortably warm for over a week." 
 
 Waldo Bronson gushed almost like a woman, 
 in his great delight. 
 
 " This is indeed delightful of you, Ruth ! 
 But have you told Mildred and everyone 
 of your departure? Won t they think it 
 strange \ 
 
 She jumped up from the table irritably, and 
 went over to a mirror to tie on a veil. 
 
 " Why, I only knew myself that I was going 
 three hours ago. One can t always go through 
 life by rule, or arrange one s affairs before 
 hand in cut and dried fashion and, and (a 
 curious expression stealing over her face) 
 Mildred will not be down before noon. I ve 
 written her my thanks, and asked her to give 
 my farewells to everyone. I have gotten out 
 
174 THE SHADOW OF DK8ITCE. 
 
 of all my visiting engagements by stating 
 frankly that I couldn t bear the idea of the 
 six weeks separation from you, and must 
 therefore beg them to excuse me as an old- 
 fashioned, doting little silly," she added fondly, 
 laughing, and kissing his head mischievously 
 on the top, where the hair was beginning to 
 be a thing of the past. 
 
 " Ah, very well ! " he answered, feeling 
 about seven feet high under such soft bland 
 ishment. " But I must stay in Paris, you 
 know, for a few days, and then we can go on 
 to Nice or Monte Carlo, if you are dis 
 posed." 
 
 At that moment the carriage drove up to 
 the door ; and they left Forest House, with 
 regret on his part, and with great relief on 
 hers. She felt as though the air grew lighter 
 and more wholesome as the towers of the old 
 pile disappeared ; and when the last lodge 
 gate closed on them, she drew a long breath 
 of positive joy, for she was beginning to fear 
 not only Will Dunston, but herself more than 
 anything. She felt very small and mean at 
 the result of her endeavors to comfort Mil- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 175 
 
 dred, and bring her back to a better state of 
 moral health, and she smiled scornfully at her 
 own presumption. 
 
 The tedious journey to Paris was over at 
 last, and Ruth felt quite cosy in her tea-gown, 
 by the fire in the boudoir of Mrs. Olney, who 
 had taken a charming apartment a few days 
 before for the season, and had promised her 
 husband to settle down until the spring, and 
 seriously study. He had a wild idea that his 
 wife had a voice, and she was doing her best 
 to cultivate it. 
 
 "But it s awful, perfectly awful, dear!" 
 said the little lady in a very tragic way. 
 " You should hear me sing Gounod s Ave 
 Maria ! I am sure Our Lady suffers if the 
 least sound of it is wafted up there," she 
 whispered, looking piously and solemnly up 
 at the fat little Cupids that were disport 
 ing themselves on the rosy clouds of the 
 ceiling. 
 
 " Aren t you really going to hunt any more 
 in England this season ? " asked Ruth, regard 
 ing Mrs. Olney with amused interest. 
 
 "Dear me! no. Why, I ve brought my 
 
176 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 whole stud over here. Poor Mr. Kaneleigh 
 is in the most dreadful despair about it 
 all." 
 
 Mr. Kaneleigh was the youthful protector 
 in whose charge her husband had put her. 
 He piloted her across country with hounds, 
 trained, bought, and sold her horses, and 
 looked after her stable interests generally. 
 Now he was planted in Paris for the season; 
 and his heart was broken in consequence. 
 He could not understand that indefinable 
 fascination of the Boulevards, about which 
 their votary raves ; for his heart was in the 
 merry hunting fields of old England. Even 
 in his dreams he would hear the beloved cry 
 of " Forward, forward, gone away ! " 
 
 " We have two days a week with a very 
 good pack at Fontainebleau. They hunt the 
 wild stag there ; it is very pretty hunting. 
 Sometimes we have three or four hours hard 
 galloping ; but it s seldom or never they get 
 away. The stag sticks to tjie forest. Then 
 there are other good packs which hunt in 
 Compiegne and other forests." 
 
 Mrs. Olney babbled on, all the while petting 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 177 
 
 a black, lanky lurcher which had its head in 
 her lap. 
 
 " Oh, that s the dog you found when you 
 were coaching from London to the Lakes 
 in Westmoreland, isn t it ? " asked Ruth, of 
 fering the animal a lump of sugar, which he 
 refused with fine disdain. 
 
 " Yes, it was when we put up at a little 
 place by the river, near Ascot, for race-week. 
 I found him in the fields, starving, when I 
 went for a walk one morning. He was the 
 saddest-looking brute you ever saw, all bones 
 and not much hair to speak of ; but I fell in 
 love with him on the spot legs and all ; and 
 took him back to the inn with me. I found 
 out through asking some villagers that his 
 master was a poacher, and was at that time 
 awaiting trial, on the wrong side of the door, 
 for killing a game-keeper. Poor Swipes 
 had been poaching on his own account, until 
 his star changed, and I adopted him." 
 
 u But why do you call him Swipes ? What 
 a droll name ! 5> 
 
 " Why, I think it most apropos. I named 
 him after the little fellow in < Oliver Twist (I 
 
178 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 think that s the book), who always swiped 
 the handkerchiefs at the fairs. Don t you re 
 call it ? " 
 
 "No, I never read the book," answered 
 Euth. " But i Swipes is too charming to be 
 named after such a naughty boy, aren t you, 
 old fellow ? " 
 
 The dog wagged his ridiculous stump of a 
 tail ; and turning his fine head, looked her 
 straight in the face, with his kind, brown eyes, 
 full of human nobility, as it appeared to 
 Euth. 
 
 Swipes was not always so kind and docile. 
 He was a most faithful protector, and would not 
 allow any one to approach his mistress. His 
 love for the coach-horn was quite wonderful ; 
 and when he heard the calls, as the different 
 coaches rolled up and down the Champs- 
 Elysees, he would be beside himself with 
 joyful excitement. 
 
 Mrs. Olney explained it by saying that 
 when he first came out of his slough of de 
 spond, he was led on by the ringing call of 
 " Clear the road ;" and so he ever after asso 
 ciated his good fortune with coaching-music. 
 
THE SHADOW OP DE8IBE. 179 
 
 " I see that lie knows how to make himself 
 at home," remarked Euth, as Swipes walked 
 leisurely over to a divan, pawed the best em 
 broidered cushion thereon, and curled himself 
 up around and around, then lay down with a 
 soft, luxurious sigh. 
 
 " Yes, lie does, indeed. In fact, he firmly 
 believes that my boudoir was arranged for his 
 special benefit. He has wheedled himself 
 into the good graces of my maid, Marie; 
 but the conquest of Marie isn t strange, be 
 cause the French are very devoted to dogs, as 
 a rule. No matter how poor they are, you 
 generally find one pet dog in a French 
 household. Listen to Swipes growling in his 
 sleep, and watch his limbs quiver. It is often 
 so with him. I think he must be hunting 
 in his dreams with his master. They are 
 perhaps poaching now in that dark wood, and 
 living over together the fight and the murder. 
 Swipes, old man ! wake up ! " giving him a 
 little pat. "You mustn t dream such hor 
 rors. The dog jumps up on the defensive, 
 blinking blindly from his sudden awakening. 
 He seems immensely relieved when he finds 
 
180 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 that the perfumed, silken boudoir is a reality 
 and not also a dream. Then he throws him 
 self on the fur robe before the fire, in one of 
 his most graceful poses, and thinks of the 
 dream he has just had. He was flying with 
 his former master, out of the wet, cold braken, 
 leaving behind the dying keeper, lying in the 
 trampled and broken bushes, while the flitting 
 moon-rays sifted through the leaves on to his 
 poor, bleeding face, and glazing eyes, up 
 turned to the pitiless sky. 
 
 # * # # * 
 
 " To-morrow," said Mrs. Olney, " I should 
 like you to have a gallop on Dandy or St. 
 James, around the Bois, because hounds meet 
 at Compiegne the day after. I think you 
 would enjoy the novelty of a gallop with 
 the stag there." 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! It will be great fun, I m 
 sure. What time do you ride in the morn- 
 ing" 
 
 " I generally go out for my exercise about 
 eight o clock, because I must be back home 
 in time to change my habit for my singing- 
 lesson, which I take at eleven o clock. You 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 181 
 
 should just watch the face of that poor, suf 
 fering Italian, when I m doing my thrills/ 
 she laughed gayly. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " replied Euth. " I m sure 
 you sing very well. I ve always my suspi 
 cions of people who are so * Uriah Heepish. " 
 
 They were going to hear Calve* sing in 
 " Cavalleria Eusticana ; " so they both hurried 
 off to dress for an early dinner, that they 
 might be in time to hear the overture, and 
 that lovely solo the tenor sings behind the 
 scenes as a prelude to the rising of the 
 curtain. 
 
 Ruth had heard Mascagni s " Cavalleria " 
 several times in London and New York, and 
 enjoyed it so much that she knew its every 
 exquisite sobbing chord and sparkling note ; 
 and she would never lose an opportunity of 
 hearing it. 
 
 * I pine for the mnsic that is divine ; 
 
 My heart in its thirst is a withered flower." 
 Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine, 
 Loosen the notes in a silver shower 1 " 
 
 SHBLLBT. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 " Hers was the sweetest of sweet faces, 
 
 Hers the tenderest eyes of all. 
 In her hair she had the traces 
 
 Of a heavenly coronal, 
 Bringing sunshine to sad places 
 Where the sunlight could not fall." 
 
 ERIC MAC KAY. 
 
 AMONGST the guests that night at dinner, 
 Euth was delighted to meet again her old 
 friend, Ealph Dawson, whom she had not 
 seen since her marriage. He was looking 
 stouter, she thought, and paler. His face 
 had that doughy pallor which is the result of 
 dissipation. He had also lost his boyish 
 breeziness of manner, which used to amuse 
 her in the old days, when he pursued her on 
 the steamer with rugs and wraps for fear she 
 should catch cold. 
 
 Ealph Dawson also had married since then. 
 
THE BHAJDOW OF DESIKB. 183 
 
 His wife was a little, plump, red-faced woman, 
 whose one ambition was for a title, and whose 
 one great weakness was for diamonds. Her 
 voice was that irritating, nasal, high-pitched 
 one which is fortunately heard nowhere except 
 amongst the Americans. Such a voice, with 
 its peevish go-as-you-please modulations, is 
 perhaps one of the greatest afflictions that a 
 woman can be cursed with. Instead of spend 
 ing so much time on " higher education," 
 beautiful toilettes, and " globe trotting," why 
 on earth do not American women who would 
 cultivate feminine charm pay more attention 
 to the common, ordinary, every-day speaking 
 voice? What does Lear say in speaking of 
 Cordelia ? 
 
 " Her voice was ever soft, 
 Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman." 
 
 Ruth wondered what misfortune had brought 
 Ealph Dawson to such a mesalliance, for al 
 though he had rather deteriorated, both mor 
 ally and physically, yet withal, he was a 
 gentleman born. 
 
 During dinner he drank more wine than 
 was necessary ; and there was something coarse 
 
184 THE SHADOW OF DE8IKB. 
 
 in his manner which had not been there be 
 fore. He spoke insinuatingly about his dear 
 est friends, and fawned on those whom he 
 wished to use. Ruth was one of those un 
 fortunate people who take a sincere interest 
 in those whom they like ; and when disillusion 
 follows which in our life seems inevitable 
 they grieve as though the one they liked was 
 dead, instead of a living disappointment. 
 
 They were at the Opera Comique. 
 
 " I hear you are going on to Monte Carlo 
 in a few days. I wish I could get off and go 
 too. But things are changed for me now, 
 you may have observed," Ralph Dawson 
 whispered to her over her shoulder, while the 
 passionate voice of Calve wailed through the 
 house. It was so unsympathetic, so inartistic 
 of him to speak at that moment, when he saw 
 how she enjoyed every golden note. His 
 breath was hot and heavy with brandy, and 
 she could not realize that this vulgar, ill-bred 
 man was the fresh-cheeked English boy with 
 whom she had been such chums a short while 
 before. 
 
 " Can it be the fault of his wife ? " she 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 185 
 
 mused and she watched her over her fan. 
 The poor lady was most gorgeously attired ; 
 her round face looked rather bored with all 
 the music, which she did not in the least 
 understand. 
 
 u E"o! it can t be her influence," thought 
 Ruth. " She is evidently only strong in cou 
 pons, for the dear lady seems quite inoffensive 
 and only burdened with her own importance 
 and the hope that Ralph will soon come into 
 his title." 
 
 Waldo Bronson had gone over to an oppo 
 site box to speak to some friends of his from 
 Chicago ; Ruth concluded that he must be 
 talking business, judging from his animated 
 manner. 
 
 " Poor old darling," sighed Ruth, looking 
 over towards him tenderly. " I wonder when 
 you will decide to leave business in its own 
 sphere.* 
 
 Altogether her evening was not a brilliant 
 one. When they rose to go, Mrs. Dawson 
 begged them all to come back with her to 
 supper. Ruth declined, for at the moment 
 she had a nervous dislike of talking to Ralph 
 
186 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Dawson. She gave as her excuse that she had 
 to go to bed betimes, because she was mean 
 ing to hunt the next day. So she drove home 
 with Mrs. Olney in her bijou of a coupe, while 
 Waldo Bronson and Ralph Dawson went to a 
 cercle where the blood was the bluest, and 
 the play the highest in all Europe. After 
 bidding everybody a gushing good-night, Mrs. 
 Dawson drove to her hotel in solitary grandeur. 
 
 "I think Yioletta must be at home/ re 
 marked Mrs. Olney, pointing to a little mas 
 culine-looking coat and hat hanging up in the 
 hall as they passed through. 
 
 " Who is Yioletta ? " asked Kuth. 
 
 " Why, don t you know Yioletta Lermanoff? 
 I thought everyone knew her; and if they 
 don t, they should. She is an active theoso- 
 phist, and one of the most perfect pieces of 
 unselfish womanhood I ever knew. I always 
 feel so insignificant and useless when I com 
 pare my life with hers. She has been staying 
 with me since iny mother went to Italy, and 
 so I am a constant witness of her good works 
 and her sweet, loving kindnesses. She has a 
 class of poor people whom she instructs in 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE6IKB. 187 
 
 English two or three times a week here in 
 Paris, besides the undertaking of many other 
 duties which her theosophical work involves. 
 This is one of her busy nights. 
 
 " Wasn t Madame Blavatsky, the great east 
 ern traveler, the founder of theosophy in 
 Europe ? " asked Euth. 
 
 " Yes ; did you ever meet her ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! but I have heard and read a great 
 deal about her, both good and bad. She must 
 have been a very unusual woman to have had 
 such devoted followers and such jealous ene 
 mies. I have read many interesting things 
 about her adventures in the Orient. * 
 
 They found Madame Lermanoff in the bou 
 doir, filing some papers. She arose when Ruth 
 and her friend entered, and threw away a 
 cigarette which she had been smoking. Ad 
 vancing, she held out her hand to Ruth before 
 Mrs. Olney could introduce them. 
 
 " I am very sorry, Mrs. Bronson, that I was 
 not here to meet you when you arrived, 5 she 
 said in perfect English, smiling up at Euth 
 with soft Italian eyes great, gentle eyes, with 
 long, dusky lashes, and finely arched eye-brows, 
 
188 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 eet in a lovely face tinted like a Murillo. Her 
 brilliant black hair was cut short and brushed 
 back like a boy s. She was gowned in a plain, 
 black, tailor-made cloth. Mrs. Olney explained 
 afterwards that she would never wear anything 
 else, and gave all her money to the cause of the 
 poor. 
 
 Ruth could not make up her mind whether 
 Mme. Lermanoff was very young or over forty, 
 because the lines of her face were as clear and 
 fresh as those of a child s. She noticed that 
 when the face was in repose it was very sad, 
 as though the roses of her life had borne too 
 many thorns ; and she wondered what could 
 be the woman s story. She felt that it must 
 be heavy with some unusual sorrow, or she 
 would not, at so early an age, throw herself, 
 body and soul, into the work of relieving the 
 pain and distress of others ; for it is seldom 
 that we enter into such sorrows without hav 
 ing some great grief of our own which we wish 
 to forget. 
 
 Never in her life had Ruth felt such a per 
 fect sympathy for any woman ; and a curious 
 tenderness flooded her heart, as she listened to 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 189 
 
 the low, foreign voice. The accent of that 
 voice, its tone and its tenderness, she felt were 
 most familiar to her ; and yet she knew that 
 she had never met Madame Lermanoff before. 
 
 The little lady was telling her of the Paris 
 branch of the Theosophical Society, the good 
 it did, and the hope of happy progress it held 
 out to all its adherents. Ruth concluded that 
 they must be a very broad-minded and charita 
 ble sect ; and she learned from the course of 
 her new friend s conversation that now that 
 
 the Duchess de P s, and the Countess 
 
 A , with many of the other leaders of 
 
 fashion in France, had gone into the subject 
 more seriously, the society was beginning to 
 flourish indeed. 
 
 Papers and magazines devoted to theosophy 
 were eagerly bought up now at the principal 
 shops and stations all over the civilized world, 
 and yet only a few years ago such topics had 
 been shudderingly ignored by the general 
 public. 
 
 It was odd that Mrs. Olney was not a the- 
 osophist herself, with such an ardent disciple 
 for an intimate friend ; but Mrs. Olney was 
 
190 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 too fond of sport and enjoyment to go in 
 for such grave theories ; and, moreover, the 
 blood of too many Catholic generations ran in 
 her veins 
 
 Euth thought uneasily that she would not 
 long remain a member of the Church of Eng 
 land if she was often thrown into the society 
 of this fascinating woman. 
 
 " Do you find that the French women ac 
 cept your doctrine in the same spirit that the 
 women of other countries do ? " she asked. 
 
 "Ah, no! They think theosophy a bar 
 barous innovation if they do us the honor of 
 thinking about it at all," and Madame Ler- 
 manoff gazed into the fire, a troubled shadow 
 gathering on her face. " I am afraid that 
 France will not be redeemed by her women, 7 
 she sighed ; " because in the typical French 
 woman the spiritual element is lacking. She 
 is of too coarse a grain to raise the standard 
 of her race beyond the terre d terre which 
 alone is her ideal. In France the man is ef 
 feminate, consequently more refined than the 
 woman ; but she is a smart animal ; and here 
 I use the word smart advisedly, because it 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIKE. 191 
 
 would be flattery to call her either an intelli 
 gent or an intellectual one. As a worker, her 
 life is spent in cunning money-grabbing, be 
 cause often she is the sole mainstay of either 
 a husband or a lover, and their progeny. If 
 the male were not so necessary to her, or in 
 other words, if she were less given to animal 
 ism, she would have more dignity as a worker. 
 As a society woman her life is spent in the 
 adornment of her body to please her lover s 
 sensuality ; for the Frenchman of her class is 
 so constituted that he could not love a badly 
 dressed woman ; consequently she develops into 
 a sort of clothes-mannikin, and sells body and 
 soul as a means of attainment of this her only 
 ideal. There are good women in France, I 
 doubt not ; but their goodness is only a syno 
 nym for bigotry, I fear ; or, what is sadder 
 still, imbecility. France has run to seed ; in 
 fact, is en plein decadence. A few of her 
 sons who are not blinded by race prejudice, 
 have the courage themselves to assert this 
 truth, and to indicate its signs to their fellow 
 countrymen ; but their warnings are not heard, 
 for the ears of the rest are deaf to such home- 
 
192 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 truths. Take, for example, a bird s -eye view 
 of France at the present time. She has no 
 statesmen-politicians, although her temples of 
 government are crowded with politicians who 
 mouth and pose. It seems that the word 
 1 politician is to the honest man another 
 name for rogue. France has painters by the 
 score, all, however, mediocrities ; but has she 
 a poet ? By poet I mean a seer ; not a poet 
 of Bichepin s sickly order. Mention one name 
 amongst her tribe of rhymsters and litterateurs 
 of a singer that sounds a note of faith, hope, or 
 love, for something higher or better than the 
 base realities of the day and hour. Faith is a 
 farce, hope a dream, love a delusion; they 
 never get beyond this refrain when they do 
 not touch the lower notes of life, and sink 
 their talent into puerile vulgarities. The men 
 of talent (and they are many, I admit) have 
 got into a rut of pessimistic cynicism, maudlin 
 and unwholesome. In the whole of France 
 to-day there is not a single man of genius ; and 
 one of the reasons for this is that the French 
 took Voltaire au serieux, from which date the 
 reign of materialism set in ; and ever since 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 193 
 
 France has been groveling to the monster, 
 until she herself has become a reflex of its 
 hideous image." 
 
 Mrs. Olney, who seldom went below the 
 surface of anything, was shocked at such vio 
 lent expressions, for she adored Paris and the 
 Parisians ; but Ruth showed the greatest ap 
 preciation of every word. 
 
 After they had finished drinking some hot 
 bouillon, Madame Lermanoff opened an en 
 ameled Russian cigarette-case, and offered 
 them a most delicious cigarette, rolled in a 
 petal of the lotus-flower. 
 
 " They are sent to me regularly by a friend 
 in Malay, 5 she said softly, gazing dreamily at 
 Ruth, as she proffered her a lighted match. 
 Somehow Madame Lermanoff did everything 
 differently from other women. Every move 
 ment of her plump little body had a fasci 
 nation of its own. Her hands were very 
 white, with long, tapering fingers; and she 
 smoked her cigarette with the grace of a 
 Castilian. 
 
 On the way to their rooms, Ruth impul 
 sively put her arm around her and kissed her 
 
194 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 good-night on her broad, low forehead. She 
 felt that it was the most natural thing to do. 
 It seemed as though she had known and loved 
 her not only in this life but in many others. 
 
 Madame Lermanoff kissed her in return on 
 both cheeks, in her gentle way. " Good 
 night ! " she murmured. " I shall probably 
 not see you until dinner to-morrow, as your 
 train leaves early. I hope you will have a 
 fine run." 
 
 " Good-night ! " echoed Kuth tenderly. All 
 through the night she dreamed of flying 
 through a strange new world, guided by a 
 glorious angel, with the patient face and 
 sweet shining eyes of Yioletta Lermanoff. 
 The creatures who lived in that strange, new 
 world " did unto others as they would be done 
 by ; " and no pain, no tears, and no disgrace 
 existed there. The air was purified with the 
 incense of good-will. Strange golden -hearted 
 flowers nodded to her as she passed. Eare 
 purple and cream orchids, with their cascades 
 of blossoms, clung lichen-like to tiny rosy 
 clouds which swam about languidly on the 
 crimson and amber sky. As they floated 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 195 
 
 along, the orchids kissed her happy face with 
 their perfumed petals. The world around her 
 vibrated with millions of harps, which flung 
 out to her their silver tones. The wind flew 
 by, whispering of peace. Beautiful forms 
 flew around her, shining with a wondrous joy. 
 Dear eyes that she felt she had loved some 
 where smiled at her from out the pearly, 
 mystic lights ; and above and throughout all 
 this strange, new world rolled arid reverberated 
 the music of infinite peace and happiness. 
 She was always conscious of the guiding 
 hand and beacon eves of Violetta LermanofL 
 
 V 
 
 " In the fields of immortality 
 My spirit should at first have worshiped thine, 
 A divine presence in a place divine." 
 
 SHBLLBT. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 " Merry it is in the good green wood 
 
 When the mavis and merle are singing ; 
 When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry. 
 And the hunter s horn ia ringing." 
 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 RUTH and her husband, Mrs. Olney, and Mr. 
 Kaneleigh, caught the early train for Corn- 
 pi 6gne the next morning, just as it was moving 
 out of the station. On arriving at the old inn 
 they had a jolly breakfast a la, fourchette. 
 The men went in advance with the hunters ; 
 and Ruth and Mrs. Olney drove on leisurely 
 to the meet, which was about six miles off, in 
 the heart of the forest, where they mounted 
 and waited for hounds to draw. 
 
 A big stag had been harbored, so they 
 were informed ; and as the wind was south 
 erly, and the sky cloudy, they had promise of 
 a good day. The master and the hunt-serv- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 197 
 
 ants wore the same " pink " that they do in 
 England ; and over their shoulders were slung 
 large French horns, on which they blew quaint 
 old calls to each other, as they galloped about 
 the forest. Several of them also carried a 
 short sword with which to " serve >J the stag. 
 Just before they laid hounds on, a coach 
 went by with a gay party of passengers ; and 
 the guard played " Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay " as a 
 parting salute, while the coach disappeared 
 down the long avenue of trees, which aroused 
 the stately old chestnuts and made them wrath 
 with such nineteenth-century levity. 
 
 The stag, who was feeding in a glen close 
 by, surrounded by his sweet-eyed wives, lifted 
 his magnificent head, stared at the advancing 
 body of horsemen and hounds for a second 
 with wild, startled eyes, wheeled and made 
 off into the midst of the dense woods. All 
 through the run the hunt-servants played on 
 the French horns while galloping about. 
 Every note bore a different significance to the 
 initiated. They could tell by its musical calls 
 whether the stag was running, whether hounds 
 were checked, whether the stag was beat, and 
 
198 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 whether it was the death. The effect of the 
 noise on the huge boulders and stones of the 
 forest was very weird; and as the long, wail 
 ing notes of the horn rang through the trees, 
 Ruth was wafted back in fancy to some hun 
 dreds of years ago. The grass-rides were peo 
 pled for her with ladies of the court, wearing 
 flowing velvets and laces, and large round 
 hats, adorned with waving plumes, which 
 nodded gracefully as they galloped about on 
 cream-colored steeds, accompanied by pic 
 turesque cavaliers. 
 
 In the foremost of the van rode the young 
 king, handsome and dSbonnalrc, not knowing 
 the cloud which was hovering over his beloved 
 France. All these ghostly people, of a glo 
 rious past, galloped on ghostly steeds around 
 and about her ; and she was only brought back 
 to the nineteenth century by hearing Mr. 
 Kaneleigh say, " Look ! he s done. They are 
 going to * serve him." She would not wait 
 to witness that bloody operation, but turned 
 away and trotted off to the inn. She could 
 hear them playing the death-chant for a long 
 way. Rapidly changing their habits for dry 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 199 
 
 clothing, they just managed to catch the five 
 train back for Paris ; and their hunters were 
 all brought on by the next train. 
 
 u Let s all dine in our tea-gowns to-night. 
 I m fearfully tired, aren t you ? " asked Mrs. 
 Olney, dragging herself up the stairway. 
 
 " Yes, it was a bit fatiguing galloping about 
 at racing pace for over two hours ; but your 
 dear old Dandy* carried me beautifully. 
 What a sweet-tempered horse he is." 
 
 " Yes, isn t he 2 I bought him in Leicester 
 shire ; he had been ridden with the Quorn by 
 a little girl of fifteen ; isn t it marvelous how 
 such a young girl could manage that strong 
 eighteen-stone beast. They say that she went 
 as straight as a bird over that big country." 
 
 " Well, no. I don t think it marvelous," 
 answered Ruth. " I think I rode with more 
 courageous enthusiasm when I was fifteen 
 than I do now. Too much worldly experi 
 ence and frivolity takes one s nerve away, I 
 think." 
 
 At dinner Ruth wore a soft white silk-tulle 
 tea-gown, with a long flowing paletot of thick 
 gold-colored crepe, studded all over with a 
 
200 THE SHADOW OP DB8IRE. 
 
 frost-work of tiny crystal beads. It was a 
 creation of Felix. 
 
 The painter, Monsieur Yan Brent, dined 
 with them that night ; also a Mr. Lewvanski, 
 a young Polish exile, of whom Mrs. Olney 
 was rather fond. Mr. Lewvanski had a mel 
 ancholy voice, and he taught Mrs. Olney to 
 sing sad, wild, national songs in duet with 
 him. Mr. Van Brent was painting Mrs. 
 Olney s portrait. He often came to see her 
 just to catch the changing lights and shadows 
 of her piquant face. Mr. Van Brent was a 
 sad-looking, dark man, with the soft manners 
 of a luxurious panther. Mrs. Olney assured 
 Ruth that when she was sitting for him she 
 was afraid to move, for fear he would show 
 his claws ; for she was quite convinced that 
 he had claws, because he was so fascinating, 
 and purred so comfortably. 
 
 While poking about in his studio one day, 
 Mrs. Olney came across a human skeleton 
 hung up 011 the wall, head downwards. It 
 was gilded, and looked as though misfortune 
 or Van Brent had gained the upper hand 
 of it. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE8IBE. 201 
 
 " Are you admiring my golden treasure ? " 
 murmured Yan Brent at her shoulder. She 
 turned quickly, in time to see a faint smile 
 disappearing from his sombre face. 
 
 " What a curious caprice to gild a helpless 
 skeleton, and stand him on his head," she 
 said, with a curl of disapproval on her severe 
 little mouth. 
 
 t( Oh, he was only our common enemy a 
 German soldier that I picked up dead on the 
 battlefield." 
 
 He turned away, and walked over to a little 
 table at the window, where he showed her a 
 portrait-picture of a fair girl-child, swinging 
 in a world of spring blossoms and tender 
 green leaves. The child s eyes were clear 
 blue pools of innocent wonder. What a dual 
 nature was that of Yan Brent ; for he must 
 have been in harmony with all things poetical, 
 to have painted such an ideal bit of youth and 
 springtime. 
 
 Euth talked with him of many mutual 
 friends in England, where Mr. Yan Brent 
 was a great favorite. She loved to watch the 
 slow, quiet movements of his graceful hands, 
 
202 THE SHADOW OF DE8IBE. 
 
 and the far-away look in his brown eyes. She 
 wondered whether he had a secret sorrow, or 
 whether his artistic soul was harrowed by the 
 unromantic appetite of hungry little Mrs. 
 Olney, who was enjoying her dinner with the 
 relish that health and outdoor exercise lend 
 their votaries. 
 
 " We may live without poetry, music, and art ; 
 We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; 
 We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; 
 But civilized man cannot live without cooks. 
 He may live without books what is knowledge but grieving ? 
 He may live without hope what is hope but deceiving ? 
 He may live without lovewhat is passion but pining ? 
 But where is the man who can live without dining f" 
 
 OWBK MEREDITH. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 * Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers ? 
 
 Ah, sweet content. 
 Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed ? 
 
 Ah, punishment. 
 
 Doet thou laugh to see how fools are vexed 
 To add to golden numbers golden numbers ? 
 Ah, sweet content." 
 
 . DBKKEB. 
 
 A GLEAM of blue sea, and white flashes from 
 glimpses of the Alpes Maritimes. Then 
 tropical foliage and flowers, and the long, gray 
 road winding along the Riviera and over the 
 mountains. Then pretty little villas of yellow, 
 blue, pink and white stone, with the bright 
 rose-geranium flowers, peeping and tumbling 
 over the high wall. Palms, olives, and all the 
 wealth of leaf and blossom of that balmy 
 country with its brilliant sunshine and south 
 ern sky. 
 
204 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Down below where the rocks slept in the 
 caressing tide, the violet water purpled and 
 darkened into amethystine pools under the 
 shadows of the cliffs. As the express whirled 
 along, Euth leaned back on the cushions of 
 the carriage and reveled in all this color and 
 beauty. She was in a state of pleasant languor. 
 The fair aspect of the land soothed and de 
 lighted her southern nature. She closed her 
 eyes to that almost inaudible wail of " sui 
 cide ! the paradise of the suicide ! " which 
 every stone and wave cries out throughout the 
 Mecca of the gambler. She even banished 
 from her memory the time when she was at 
 Monte Carlo before with her first husband ; 
 for that was a distressful time. She only felt 
 comfortable now, and at peace in the knowledge 
 that everything was beautiful. Little thought 
 she gave to the leprous spirit of the land, or to 
 the desolate sobs of the lost souls which haunt 
 the Riviera and are borne on the spray and the 
 wind over the Mediterranean. 
 
 Her husband had wired for rooms up on 
 the hill near the Casino, at Monte Carlo. 
 From their sitting-room window, where they 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 205 
 
 could see, on a clear day, the island of Corsica, 
 where the knife prevails, and each man " has 
 it in " for his neighbor. 
 
 " I should like to try my luck at the tables, 
 dearie, just once, you know, before we return 
 home, Ruth said gayly, as they tripped up 
 the stairs of the Casino the following night. 
 Waldo Bronson laughed at her naughty pro 
 pensities. 
 
 " They say that beginners break the bank 
 very often, he answered. "And I reckon 
 you ll have rare good fortune, because you 
 touched that man who was murdered in the 
 streets last night. Poor wretch! What a 
 shame it was. They say that he was only a 
 workingman, and that it was by a mere fluke 
 that he won, as he knew nothing of the game ; 
 a looker-on told him to leave his pile on the 
 cloth, and with the next turn of the cards he 
 made a fortune. On going out of the Casino 
 he met a friend at the entrance ; and to him 
 he confided his good luck. The friend fol 
 lowed him, and when they came to a dark 
 street, stabbed him in the back, and made off 
 with the winnings." 
 
206 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 " Some of the natives here told you all about 
 it, I suppose ? * inquired Ruth. 
 
 " Yes, these people will talk you deaf on the 
 slightest encouragement. 5 
 
 On the way from the station the night 
 before they had been stopped in the road 
 by a crowd who were gathered around the 
 body of the murdered man ; and Ruth had 
 stepped out of the fiacre and pushed her way 
 through the people, thinking with her usual 
 impulsiveness that she could render him some 
 relief in case he was only wounded, but she 
 saw at a glance that it was all over ; so she 
 had turned away with a sickening feeling, and 
 driven on to the hotel. 
 
 The gambling rooms were crowded, as they 
 always are at that time of the year, with a 
 curious, cosmopolitan mass. At one of the 
 roulette tables, Ruth noticed a queer, little 
 dried-up looking Turk, wearing a red fez. 
 He was so absorbed in his " system " that he 
 only saw his silver and the wheel. He had 
 about twenty-five numbers going all the time. 
 When the croupier was about to rake his 
 money in he would look more determined and 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 207 
 
 bet more heavily. How eager and hardened 
 most of the players looked ! One young fair- 
 haired demi^nondaine was sitting at the trente- 
 et-quarante table. Her pretty baby face was 
 pale and strained, as each time the monotonous 
 voice of the croupier called out " Rouge gagne, 
 noirperd" or vice versa, throughout all the 
 wretched gamut of the game. She had a fancy 
 for noir ; and when for the thirteenth time 
 the relentless voice echoed over to her, " rouge 
 gagne, noir perd" her trembling lips grew 
 white under the paint. Tossing her arms 
 frantically over her head, she ran out of 
 the room, crying as though to break her 
 heart. The long hours of gambling had 
 weakened her nerves and emptied her purse, 
 a purse which at its best was very irregularly 
 filled. 
 
 Ruth heard afterwards that the girl had 
 thrown herself over the rocks into the sea; 
 but finding the water very cold, and being able 
 to swim a little, she had struck boldly out for 
 the shore, screaming for help all the way. 
 It was all very pitiful as well as comical ; and 
 Ruth, who had never been an advocate of the 
 
208 THE SHADOW OF DESIBJE. 
 
 cold plunge, thought that perhaps after all 
 there might be some good in it. 
 
 Fortune attended Ruth, as it generally does 
 beginners at Monte Carlo. Every stake she 
 made was doubled, until the heap of bank 
 notes became quite important ; so much so 
 that a crowd began to gather around to watch 
 her " system. But she had no " system ; " 
 she did not know the meaning of the fatal 
 word that maddens so many ; she simply left 
 the money on the tables to be swept away by 
 the inexorable rake of the croupier, or to be 
 doubled, as luck willed. " jRouge gagne, noir 
 perd " was the cry at every turn of the cards. 
 She grew giddy ; and the faces gathered 
 around and opposite her seemed to swim 
 like little black motes in the air. She was 
 dimly conscious of a familiar face and aston 
 ished black eyes staring at her from out the 
 dense crowd, but she was too excited to think. 
 She instinctively took up the pile of notes and 
 placed them on rouge, as the dealer proffered 
 her a new pack of cards to cut ; a compliment 
 which it is customary to pay to all bold fa 
 vorites of chance. She cut them once and 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 309 
 
 returned them to him with a smile on her face 
 which said plainly " nothing will turn my 
 fortune to-night." 
 
 " Rouge gagne, noir perd." Won again! 
 The bystanders, who were sticking little holes 
 on the red spots of their betting books, said 
 that they had never seen such a wonderful 
 run on rouge. Waldo Bronson who was stand 
 ing at his wife s elbow, whispered, " Come, 
 Ruth, I wouldn t play any more. You ve 
 attracted the attention of the whole room. 
 Come along, dear. Let s go." But she paid 
 no heed to him ; and suddenly changing her 
 tactics, placed her money on noir. "Nbir gagne, 
 rouge per d" The man paid her the notes due 
 as her winnings, and rising thus addressed the 
 crowd : " Messieurs et Mesdames : rien ne va 
 plus. 9 Euth reached out and drew in the 
 pretty papers with a queer little chuckle of 
 delight. She was as pleased at the novelty of 
 it as a child might be at the excitement of 
 a new game, and counted one, two, three, four, 
 five hundred thousand francs. She gave a 
 great gasp as she looked up at her husband 
 with a startled, frightened face. 
 
210 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Why why, Waldo, I had no idea. I 
 shouldn t take it, should I?" she asked in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Of course you should take it. You won 
 it, didn t you ? " he replied, laughing at her 
 innocence, and wondering why women were 
 so naive. He and his friends at the clubs had 
 never had any hesitancy about pocketing the 
 cheques exchanged with each other over the 
 poker table ; and he did not understand her 
 feeling about it. She seemed to think it un 
 fair and not legitimate. Women are invaria 
 bly more delicate than men about gambling 
 affairs in the beginning. 
 
 Glancing up, Waldo Bronson suddenly ex 
 claimed : <c By Jove, there s Dunston." 
 
 Will Dunston, who had been watching the 
 game for the past hour, now came round and 
 spoke to them. 
 
 " I only got here to-night, and hearing from 
 the hotel people that you were all here, I 
 came over to try and find you," he said 
 hastily. "Dear me, what a rich little lady 
 you are, Mrs. Bronson. How on earth are you 
 going to take all that wealth away? You will 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 211 
 
 have to pnt some one on guard until the banks 
 open to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, no, I think we can manage it," she 
 answered, looking at her husband, and nerv 
 ously folding the notes. " Will you put them 
 in your pocket for me, Waldo, until we get 
 home?" 
 
 They walked back to the hotel in the warm 
 night, while the moon played great pranks 
 with the mountains and the sea. Ruth had 
 never remembered seeing Will Dunston look 
 so sad and handsome. She noticed with a start 
 that he wore crape, and her hand closed on hia 
 arm in silent sympathy. 
 
 The three strolled along slowly until they 
 came to one of the benches in the Casino 
 grounds, overlooking the Mediterranean. The 
 palms around them nodded sleepily in the 
 drowsy air. A yacht was riding at anchor not 
 far out over the water, and her bells struck 
 eleven in a clear and silvery tone. Tiny 
 gleams of light shone from her port-holes, and 
 dim forms could be faintly seen moving up 
 and down on her deck. The tropical foliage 
 of the Casino grounds threw strange shadows 
 
212 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 across the walks. High up on the grassy hill, 
 a huge palm tree towered solemnly, standing 
 alone there against the moonlight flecked sky. 
 
 Will Dunston offered Waldo Bronson a 
 cigar, and the two men smoked for some min 
 utes without speaking. 
 
 " I I am the bearer of sad news, though 
 possibly you may know through the papers," 
 said Will Dunston hesitatingly. "But Mil 
 dred is dead." 
 
 Euth felt as though some one had dealt her 
 an awful blow, which deprived her of speech 
 and thought for a moment. 
 
 " Mildred dead," echoed Waldo Bronson 
 incredulously. "Why, when I last saw her 
 she was in the best of health and spirits. How 
 did it happen ? " 
 
 " Well, you know, she was always riding 
 horses that were too much for her. About 
 four days ago hounds met in the neutral 
 country. Holbourne had a shooting party of 
 his own at the time and couldn t go. She 
 asked me to accompany her, but I I had an 
 engagement in town, and was busy packing 
 and writing letters. Besides, I had had a hard 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 213 
 
 gallop the day before, and wasn t very keen on 
 going. So Mildred drove on to the meet alone. 
 We didn t know that she had sent on that new 
 hunter she had just bought out of Ireland. 
 He is a good sort there, I suppose, but a rak 
 ing, tearing, unmanageable brute in a cramped 
 country. She shouldn t have attempted to 
 ride him to hounds before she had hacked 
 him a bit and learned his mouth. "Well she 
 was killed. Her horse fell with her into one 
 of those beastly gravel-pits. When they picked 
 her up her neck was broken. The hunt-groom 
 who was with her said that when hounds went 
 away and the field spread out to gallop, she 
 was going quietly and had her horse well in 
 hand, but when they had been going about ten 
 minutes, he noticed that she did not steady her 
 horse at timber, which he rapped several times 
 unpleasantly, and once he came a cropper in a 
 ditch on the off side ; but she managed to keep 
 her seat while the horse scrambled out and flew 
 on flew so fast that she soon outdistanced the 
 whole field. Hounds checked for a moment, 
 and then veered to the left ; but Mildred gal 
 loped straight ahead. Her groom and another 
 
214 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 rider near yelled, Ware gravel-pit ! But 
 she paid no attention, or perhaps didn t hear ; 
 and kept on. The master and the whole hunt 
 drew in their hunters about half a field behind 
 and watched her take that awful leap into 
 eternity. They were powerless to stop her or 
 help her in any way. Several of the people 
 whispered that it was the most terribly delib 
 erate suicide that anyone could conceive. They 
 all waited, half paralyzed with fear, until sud 
 denly up the side of the opposite bank crawled 
 the riderless horse. He wheeled about and 
 galloped after the hounds, which were rap 
 idly disappearing over a hill. The master 
 and several of her friends went up to the edge 
 of the pit and looked over ; and there they 
 saw poor Mildred lying below her habit torn 
 and stained with blood and earth. She was 
 quite dead when they picked her up. After 
 they brought her home she lay on the sofa for 
 quite two hours before they could find Hoi- 
 bourne, who was shooting in one of the big 
 outlying covers. 5 
 
 " Poor Mildred ! " sighed Waldo Bronson. 
 " But something tells me that she isn t to be 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 215 
 
 wholly pitied. I have often noticed that she 
 was rather reckless and unhappy. She never 
 feared danger in the hunting-field. I have 
 sometimes wondered if she and Holbourae 
 got on well together. * 
 
 He gazed far out over the glinting, golden 
 pathway of the moon adown the water, with a 
 moist, suspicious sparkle in his eyes. He had 
 been fond of Mildred, as he was fond of all 
 amiable and pretty women. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I m sure they got on swimming 
 ly, for I never saw anyone grieve as Hoi- 
 bourne did when he saw how fearfully 
 crushed Mildred was. Her horse must have 
 fallen on her. You remember what beautiful 
 hands she had. Well, in her death-struggle 
 she must have clenched them horribly; for 
 when her gloves were cut off they were found 
 all distorted and clotted with blood. Ah, God ! 
 I can t bear to think of it ; and still I am com 
 pelled by some morbid influence to relate each 
 painful detail to you." Will Dunston strode 
 fiercely up and down. 
 
 " Holbourne does nothing but blame him 
 self for the death of the poor child. He re- 
 
216 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 iterates that if he had been more attentive 
 and tried to understand his wife better she 
 would not have killed herself. He firmly be 
 lieves that it was suicide ; but of course 
 that s all nonsense." 
 
 He breathed heavily, and gazed in a fasci 
 nated way down at the little waves that were 
 licking the green moss on the stones below 
 like the tongues of snakes. To his heated 
 fancy they were creeping up to sting him into 
 new torture. Deep down in the phosphorescent 
 water he saw the dead face of the woman he 
 had destroyed. Her full red lips, which had 
 once clung to his so passionately, were sealed 
 now forever with their own blood. He could 
 even see her long, luxuriant black hair, float 
 ing and drifting with the ebbing tide. He 
 knew the scent and softness of it well, and 
 almost shrieked aloud as the heavy bloom of 
 a plant he passed brushed his cheek gently. 
 The wind took up the sound of her voice and 
 reproached him. His one great desire was to 
 be with Ruth again ; so after the funeral he 
 had hurried away. Even when the earth 
 rattled on Mildred s coffin, and he heard as in 
 
THE SHADOW OF DB6IBE. 217 
 
 a dream the rector s voice murmuring " dust 
 to dust, 5 he saw the fair, mocking face of Ruth 
 Bronson smiling at him from the white rose 
 memorial wreaths that had been offered by 
 loving hearts to the woman who had given 
 him her all, and who was now lying low at his 
 feet. 
 
 When it was all over he hurried back to the 
 house, and made every possible haste for his 
 journey. It had become a race of life and 
 death with him now, this chase after the 
 one woman who had outdone him. Her 
 silent indifference enraged him. He remem 
 bered now that whenever he had hurt her she 
 had been kind to him only through womanly 
 fear ; and he longed for her more than ever 
 before. The weakness she had shown for him 
 he knew, in his heart of hearts, was only the 
 effect of his own indomitable will power ; 
 and he had conquered her, in a degree, by the 
 infectious fever of his own passion. As he 
 looked down at her now, the moonlight made 
 her skin look like the creamy leaf of a mag 
 nolia-flower. He saw that she was crying. 
 The large, heavy tears rolled down her face 
 
218 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 quietly and uncontrollably. She sat on the 
 bench, clutching the stone wall ; and never 
 uttered a moan. Only the tears followed one 
 after another in a steady, hopeless way, as she 
 gazed drearily far out to sea, to that faint line 
 where the sky and ocean met. 
 
 She was thinking of the old school days, 
 when she and the dead girl had sworn eternal 
 fidelity. How how had she kept that vow ? 
 Ah, she had not intended all this. She had 
 not meant to be false. 
 
 When she first looked into Will Dunston s 
 eyes after she had met him at Forest House, 
 with that laugh on her lips which all men 
 seemed to misunderstand she had no other 
 thought but of friendship for Mildred. Then 
 she slowly recalled one by one the hateful, 
 passionate days. She hated herself when she 
 remembered how she had had to fight hand-to- 
 hand against her desires and his influence ; 
 and how she had nevertheless failed in the 
 struggle. The hot blood crept up and crim 
 soned even her forehead when she remem 
 bered how she had kissed him. 
 
 At first she had spent long hours with him, 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 219 
 
 trying to make him think of more wholesome 
 things than that of tempting and leading on 
 a wavering woman. As the days went on she 
 only thought of herself, and how she could 
 get away from her own desires. 
 
 Now that Poor Mildred was dead, Kuth 
 felt like a murderess ; and in her remorse she 
 almost screamed out, as she in fancy saw the 
 phantom form of the miserable woman, with 
 set teeth, and fixed, despairing eyes, galloping 
 straight ahead to her doom. 
 
 "Don t, Mildred, don t. Take him back, 
 dear. I never wanted him, 5 she moaned in 
 wardly. " Only think of those who love you. 
 Ah, don t, it is too horrible." And she 
 covered her face with her hands and wept 
 aloud. 
 
 " Come, darling, don t cry. Let s go back 
 to the hotel. I know it s awful, * said Waldo 
 Bronson huskily, taking her gently by the 
 arm to retrace their steps. Will Dunston 
 followed closely behind, his tall figure sil 
 houetted on the flag-stones in the moonlight, 
 long, gaunt, and uncanny. Kuth could not 
 bear even a tiny bit of his shadow to cross her 
 
220 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 own, and she shivered with fear of him, and 
 clung closer to her husband. Waldo Bronson 
 looked at her quickly and saw the disgust flit 
 ting over her face. As in a flash the past few 
 months grew clear to him (such intuitions come 
 to us in unheard and unthought of ways). 
 Knowing Ruth s nature, he felt that she had 
 probably encouraged the man a little, and then 
 somehow, he was convinced without the ex 
 ercise of his reason that the man had im 
 posed on and bullied her. Perhaps it was the 
 hard lines in Will Dunston s defiant face that 
 revealed the story. 
 
 On the hotel stairway, as he was taking 
 Ruth up to their apartment, he looked sud 
 denly back at Will Dunston, and saw him 
 leaning on the banister, scowling up after him, 
 with an ugly look in his black eyes. 
 
 " Wait for me in the smoking-room ; I have 
 a word to say to you," he called down. 
 
 " Very good," the other answered, shrug 
 ging his broad shoulders disdainfully, and 
 strolling down the corridor. 
 
 " Can I put you to bed, baby Ruth ? " he 
 whispered tenderly, feeling for the long pin 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 221 
 
 in her hat to remove it. He was always ten 
 der towards his wife, and was pleased at any 
 whim which made her happy. Kneeling 
 down, he unbuttoned her boots, and then 
 pulled off her long black silk stockings, and 
 slipped her pink, naked feet into her mauve 
 mules. He was rather clumsy about unlacing 
 her gown, and they both laughed a great deal 
 over it, until she was at last free, and snugly 
 tucked up in bed. 
 
 What a great, pure love she had for her 
 husband. He was the very best and dearest 
 soul in all the world to her. She felt a won 
 derful and overwhelming peace when she put 
 her arms around his neck, and drawing his 
 face down, kissed him. 
 
 " Good-night, my love, she cried. 
 
 " Good-night, baby Ruth, my wife/ he re 
 plied, as he buried his face in her hair. He 
 loved the perfume of its soft, red-brown 
 waves. It was so subtly delicate and woman 
 ish. Then he went out, and stood for a mo 
 ment smiling back at her from the door. She 
 blew him a kiss as he turned ; then he walked 
 swiftly down the hall and descended the stair. 
 
222 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 way. She listened, half asleep, as his footsteps 
 grew fainter. How happy she was, and how she 
 loved him. Even while falling asleep she was 
 making plans for the next season after they 
 returned from the States. They had talked 
 of taking a hunting-box down in the Shires, 
 near Mrs. Olneys ; and then, after Christmas, 
 of going to Pau, where the weather was al 
 ways mild and open, and sport good. 
 
 " He s the dearest and best in the world, 
 and I love him so," were the last words on 
 her lips as she fell asleep. 
 
 " And within the grave there is no pleasure, for the 
 
 Blind-worm battens on the root, 
 And desire shudders into ashes, and the tree of 
 Passion bears no fruit. 11 
 
 OSOAK WILDE. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Break, break, break, 
 
 At the foot of thy crags, O sea I 
 But the tender grace of a day that is dead 
 Will never come back to me." 
 
 THNNTSOK. 
 
 EUTH awakened next morning with rather a 
 nervous headache, induced no doubt by the 
 unusual emotion of the night before. The 
 day was dull, and as she lay in bed she could 
 watch the sea tossing the fishing boats about 
 relentlessly. 
 
 Nothing is sadder than a storm at Monte 
 Carlo ; for the face of that country is usually 
 so bright, that when clouded, it seems more 
 sorrowful by comparison, I suppose. When 
 Euth took the coffee that Martha brought in, 
 she found on the tray a note from her hus 
 band, which she leisurely opened and read. 
 He often sent her notes in the same way, for 
 he was a very modern man, and understood 
 
324 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 women too well his wife especially to dis 
 turb them before they emerged from their 
 dressing-rooms. 
 
 " My dear wife, the note ran, " I am called 
 to Paris unexpectedly, and when you read this 
 I shall be well on my way. Expect me back 
 in two or three days. Try and amuse your 
 self. I see by the hotel register that Mr. and 
 Mrs. John Howes and Jack Carey are arriving 
 to-day, so you won t be lonely. A bientdt, 
 my darling. WALDO." 
 
 She did not think anything of this, because 
 she was quite accustomed to her husband s 
 erratic movements. When she received her 
 morning s mail, she found a telegram from 
 Jack Carey, and a letter from Mrs. Howes, 
 announcing their departure from London. 
 They would arrive that night, they said. 
 
 She looked out to sea at the little boata 
 that were pitched about so helplessly, and felt 
 bored. What on earth should she do in this 
 place all day, where she positively knew no 
 one ? Rising wearily, she made her toilette 
 in a listless way, and taking her writing pad 
 with her (she often wrote to her friends while 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 225 
 
 out doors) went for a brisk walk, hoping to 
 soothe her brain, which still ached furiously. 
 She made her way down a hill, and then up a 
 steep, rocky footpath on the right, to the 
 quaint old church. She could hear the priest 
 slowly chanting, as the faint, sweet smell of 
 incense came timidly out to her where she 
 stood. Turning the handle of the door, she 
 went in, and knelt on the stone floor near a 
 white-capped peasant woman, who was so ab 
 sorbed in her devotions that she did not know 
 Ruth was watching her brown, wrinkled face, 
 pleadingly upturned to Our Lady. Far up at 
 the end of the chancel, where the white altar 
 rose, adorned with simple flowers, and a few 
 candles, which the poor penitents had given as 
 offerings, a young priest was serving mass, 
 his earnest eyes shining with that light which 
 faith alone lends. A bell tinkled; and all 
 heads were bowed in prayer. How solemn 
 and peaceful it all was. Huth remembered 
 with a twinge of homesickness the church far 
 away over the ocean, down in Virginia, where 
 she had once worshiped. Her faith was not 
 the faith of these people ; but they were all 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEBIRK. 
 
 taught to love the same Saviour, and to pray 
 to Him for the same " peace which passeth all 
 understanding ; and a calm fell over her spirit 
 in this holy temple of God. Slowly tiptoeing 
 out, she dropped some silver in the box at the 
 door, "pour les pauvres, and went on her way 
 down to the shore. After walking for a long 
 time, she found a spot sheltered from the wind 
 among the crags ; and there sitting down she 
 opened her portfolio to write to her husband. 
 A most fearful depression was on her, and she 
 felt in tune with the troubled sea. She was 
 very susceptible to electric atmospheric influ 
 ences, and her heart was as restless as the 
 waves out there, that leaped and tumbled into 
 each other s arms so desperately. 
 
 " My love, I am lonely, she wrote. <c Since 
 I ve been down here the mood of the mighty 
 sea has dominated me. It rages to-day, and 
 I rebel against fate, and fight my destiny. 
 When it is full of heavenly blue, as it was 
 when we first came here, a bright bird of 
 gladness sings in my soul. But when the 
 dark, gray shadows fall aslant, as they are 
 falling now, I want to die for sheer sympathy 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 227 
 
 with the sea, and with my limited sky, which 
 is overcast by threatening clouds. A dear 
 friend once told me that my mind was prone 
 to wander through fantastic alleys ; but after 
 all, have our dearest friends the most disin 
 terested comprehension of us ? This is wicked 
 and cynical, I can in fancy hear you say 
 with that stupid, grieved look in your dear 
 eyes ; but, my love, sooner or later it seems 
 to me we must face the batteries of disillu 
 sion. Soon they will charge and close up 
 their fire on us ; so why not meet it half way ? 
 I think the shock would be less. 
 
 "The poppies grow full and red in some 
 home-fields, perhaps ; and sweet dreams are 
 the children s inheritance ; dreams so fair, that 
 even the stale afterthought does not trouble. 
 The bitter weed of disillusion is not permitted 
 to tangle those perfumed fields. Ah me ! I 
 think that the mistral has gotten into my 
 blood. It is late, and growing cold ; and as I 
 have four miles to make back to the hotel, I 
 will close my blue letter and send you a kiss, 
 while I drink to your health with my lunch. 
 
 KUTH." 
 
228 THE HADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 Martha was arranging some fresh gray tulle 
 on the corsage of a favorite dinner gown, 
 when Huth reached her room. The girl held 
 it out at arm s length, to see the effect of the 
 silver knots of ribbon on the shoulders. She 
 was always most anxious that her mistress 
 should be a picture in gowns and coiffure. 
 Ruth smiled at the girl s vanity, as she 
 watched her deft brown fingers sewing the 
 tulle higher on the left. 
 
 She ordered lunch to be served at once up 
 in her sitting-room, as she did not care to go 
 down to the crowded breakfast-room alone ; 
 and Martha waited on her. 
 
 "I am returning home in two weeks, 
 Martha, and have written to engage our pas 
 sage already. Are you glad ? " 
 
 Martha showed her ivories in a broad smile, 
 almost dropping the salad-bowl in her delight. 
 Virginia, in her estimation, was next to heav 
 en. She loved the great fields, with the broad- 
 leaved tobacco-plants, the water-melons and 
 canteloupes ripening in the sun, the sweet, 
 green corn, with the yellow silk of the young 
 ears waving in the breeze, and the long, 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 229 
 
 dim vistas that stretch out through the giant 
 pine-woods. The memory of the music in 
 their branches set her heart beating to a happy 
 tune. 
 
 Kuth, Mr. and Mrs. John Howes and Jack 
 Carey all dined together that night ; and then 
 they went to hear " La Cigale " at the Casino 
 Theatre. The house was very full. Glancing 
 about, Mrs. Howes recognized many friends, 
 to whom she nodded and smiled in that 
 " fetching way of hers which made each 
 man or woman feel assured of being the one 
 who had aroused her delicious cordiality. 
 
 The ballet ye gods, the ballet ! Who does 
 not remember with pain and anguish the 
 ballet of the theatre at Monte Carlo ? "When 
 Mrs. Howes saw six smirking females, looking 
 like elongated tongs, led by an enormously 
 fat, kittenish old darling, adorned with two 
 shoulder straps, and a quarter of a yard of 
 pink and green tulle her wonderful canary 
 colored head crowned with a virgin wreath of 
 pink rose buds she stared for a moment, and 
 then burst into an uncontrollable fit of hys 
 terical giggles, which set Euth and the others 
 
230 THE BHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 off also ; and they laughed and choked until 
 the tears ran down their faces without rhyme 
 or reason. 
 
 " When will you be serious ? " sighed John 
 Howes, trying vainly to compose himself ; but 
 every time the ladies of the ballet waved their 
 arms, or balanced themselves on their toes, it 
 made Mrs. Howes giggle worse than ever. 
 Jack Carey arose hastily and wiped the tears 
 away from his eyes, as he uttered incoherently, 
 " Let s go out into the foyer? 
 
 They managed without entirely disgracing 
 themselves to make their escape from the 
 audience into the grand salon where every 
 one promenaded. There the air was blue 
 with the smoke of various grades of good 
 or bad tobacco, amidst which curious-looking 
 men and women were strolling about vaguely. 
 Here and there were gathered groups of 
 vulture-eyed gamblers listening to some 
 fellow schemer with a " system to unfold. 
 
 Gorgeously attired femmes galantes went 
 ogling by, stopping now and then at some 
 roulette table to throw down a five franc piece 
 on some unknown number; when it was 
 
THE LHADOW OF DESIRE. 231 
 
 scooped in, they would purse up their car- 
 mined lips in a pout of disapproval. Ruth 
 had never seen women with such deep red lips 
 before ; they gave her an unpleasant sugges 
 tion of vampires, as though their nightly 
 delirium was to glue themselves to the warm 
 human hody, and suck out its life-blood, 
 staining their mouths with the bleeding 
 wounds. The horrid idea haunted her ; and 
 every time she saw a woman go by with a 
 painted mouth, she gazed with fascination at 
 the mouth, and never at the woman, and 
 murmured mechanically that verse from Swin 
 burne s Dolores 
 
 " Cold eyelids that hide like a jewel ; 
 
 Hard eyes that grow soft for an hour ; 
 The heavy white limbs, and the cruel 
 Red mouth like a venomous flower." 
 
 Two young English girls, evidently from 
 the country, their eyes wide with wonder, sat 
 on a divan against the wall. They were in 
 charge of a gentle lady who must have been 
 their companion. She watched the motley 
 throng with a look of scientific intelligence on 
 her patient face. 
 
282 THE SHADOW OF DESERE. 
 
 " I hear, Jack, that they are proposing to 
 send you up as Senator from Virginia in a few 
 years," said "Ruth, looking up at Jack Carey 
 admiringly. " How charming that will be for 
 you. You can then pass through those bills 
 for the benefit of your countrywomen, which 
 we used to talk so much about." 
 
 " The women of Virginia are trying to do 
 away with that stupid old English law of a 
 wife s entire subjection to her lord and master, 
 and very often, I am sorry to say, bullying 
 husband," answered Jack Carey thoughtfully. 
 
 " I was not very often a subjected wife," 
 laughed Kuth. " In fact, dear old Waldo 
 would fetch me the moon if I expressed a 
 wish for it ; or at least he would i make a try 
 for it." 
 
 " Your husband is a Baltimorean. I know 
 very little of the marriage laws in his State/ 
 he replied, almost coldly. 
 
 He never could get used to the idea that 
 this woman was another man s wife. He felt 
 as though she was his own property, merely 
 because they had threaded daisy-chains to 
 gether when they were in pinafores ; and yet 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE8IKE. 233 
 
 he fought this feeling always, refusing to be 
 mastered by his desire. 
 
 " What a future would be ours if she was 
 my wife/ he thought ; and though he tried 
 never to look on her in that way, the same cry 
 would ring through his brain. 
 
 11 With Ruth as my wife I could surmount 
 every difficulty. My ambition would have no 
 limit; while now now I haven t the heart 
 for anything ; and I plod along, making the 
 dryest speeches, well pleased if I am only let 
 alone ; but for Ruth s sake, I feel as though I 
 could plead to the stars to come down to her 
 out of heaven ! " he sighed despondently. He 
 was awakened from his reverie by the rippling 
 music of Mrs. John Howes laughter. 
 
 " Come along, Mr. Carey ! Are you asleep ? 
 We are all going home. 
 
 His friends were standing in the doorway 
 of the cloak-room ; Ruth had slipped away 
 from him while he was thinking about her so 
 intently, and he had not realized it, so engrossed 
 was he in his meditations. She was fasten 
 ing the clasp of her cloak, and he saw her 
 reflection smiling at him through the mirror. 
 
284 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 They all left the rooms together, and were 
 soon comfortably ensconced at a corner table 
 in one of the gay restaurants, where Mrs. 
 Howes wanted to see something of the half- 
 world. The laughing and jesting which went 
 on around amused her ; until one yellow-haired 
 damsel, with more spirits than discretion, de 
 liberately poured the contents of an iced bottle 
 of champagne over an immaculately got-up 
 youth, and then rubbed his hair (which had 
 been parted in the centre and plastered down 
 on either side of his ears with such infinite 
 pains) with the bottle, until he looked like an 
 astonished, bedraggled poodle. Then that 
 incorrigible damsel crept up behind the host 
 of the evening (who Ruth afterwards learned 
 was a very wealthy newspaper proprietor in 
 ]N"ew York), grabbed the tails of his coat, 
 which fitted him very loosely, and pulled it 
 off over his head, turning it inside out in a 
 flash, and leaving the angry newspaper gen 
 tleman in his shirt sleeves, while the party 
 greeted this latest caprice with screams of 
 laughter. 
 
 One gypsy-faced girl, who had drunk an 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 235 
 
 astonishing amount of wine, considering her 
 stature she was scarcely a woman in years 
 sprang up on to the supper table, and after 
 kicking a yard or two of room in the china 
 and glass, amid the bravos of the half tipsy 
 men, began to dance " Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay," 
 singing the accompanying verses in French, 
 while the others hiccupped the chorus. 
 
 Mrs. Howes and Ruth now thought it about 
 time for them to return to their hotel. As 
 they passed the festive table, one of the women 
 offered Jack Carey a glass of wine, with a 
 drunken smile on her pretty, silly face ; he 
 refused it, blushing wildly, which was a sig 
 nal for renewed screams of laughter from the 
 crowd. 
 
 " Ah, Armand, Annan d, how can you refuse 
 your Camille ? " the creature sobbed out to 
 him in mock distress. 
 
 John Howes winked at his wife ; Ruth was 
 looking straight ahead, trying not to catch 
 the roguish eyes of Mrs. Howes, who, some 
 how, always made her giggle in the most 
 undignified way at the most inopportune 
 moments* 
 
236 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 Mrs. Howes went into Buth s sitting-room, 
 and stayed with her a little while before going 
 to bed. She had thrown on a wrapper, and 
 brought a brush with which she steadily 
 brushed her soft, fair hair while talking. 
 Such rites are as much a sign of friendship 
 with women as the cocktail that American 
 men take together, or the pipe of peace which 
 the Indians smoke in one another s company. 
 
 Mrs. Howes told the same story of Mildred s 
 death that Will Dunston had done ; and said 
 that although Mildred s husband and dearest 
 friends were convinced that it was suicide, 
 they were all trying to hush it up by declaring 
 that the horse had run away with her, and 
 that she did not know the country around 
 there. The gravel-pit was really not very 
 deep, but her horse crushed her, and she 
 must have been killed instantly. 
 
 The emotional little lady cried bitterly while 
 relating the story. She would miss Mildred 
 in more than one way ; and although Mildred 
 had never shown any special affection for her, 
 she had nevertheless always remembered to 
 invite her when she had any fun on. Mrs. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 237 
 
 Howes sighed deeply when she thought of the 
 long ball-room that would be closed up now. 
 She remembered with fond regret the delight 
 ful garden-parties, the private theatricals that 
 would be no more. What a place Forest House 
 had been for flirtations, and the tears rolled 
 down her cheeks faster than ever ; but she had 
 been honestly fond of Mildred and half the 
 tears were for her sad fate. 
 
 " Well, good-night, dear, she said, rising 
 and going to the door. "Grieving will not 
 give her back to us, nor is it good for the 
 complexion," and she smiled a sickly little 
 smile, and went to her room, and then to 
 bed; and soon she slept like a child. Hers 
 was an enviable nature, for storms passed over 
 her head without ruffling one of its bright 
 curls. 
 
 44 O past ! O happy life I O songs of joy I 
 In the air, in the woods, over fields, 
 Loved J loved 1 loved ! loved I loved 1 
 But my mate no more, no more with me, 
 We two together no more ! " 
 
 WHITMAN. 
 
CHAPTEK XVTL 
 
 How did I know I should love thee to-day, 
 
 Whom that day I held not dear ? 
 How did I know I should love thee away, 
 
 When I did not love thee anear ? " 
 
 JEAN IKGELOW. 
 
 WALDO BRONSON hurried along the corridor 
 of an hotel at Ostende. In an hour he was to 
 meet Will Dunston ; and it could be plainly seen 
 on his pale, determined face, that one of them 
 would die. A clerk stepped up and gave him 
 a letter which he saw at a glance was from 
 Ruth. Going aside into a deserted reading- 
 room for a moment, he sat down and calmly 
 lit a cigar ; then he tore open the envelope 
 and read the letter. It was dated Monte 
 Carlo : 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 " I am homesick for Virginia, my love, so 
 have taken passage on the same boat in which 
 you sail next week. I couldn t bear the idea 
 of being left alone in Europe without you, so 
 I have taken this liberty although I fear you 
 will be displeased " (he was blind with tears 
 for a moment, and the writing swam before 
 his eyes), " knowing as I do your idea that 
 women should amuse themselves, remain in 
 their doll kingdom, and not follow a man 
 about when he has the almighty dollar to 
 wrestle for. I am homesick for my South ; 
 perhaps because I was born there. They say 
 that a bit of one s native land always clings to 
 one, just as the earth clings to the roots of a 
 transplanted flower. Or it may be that I am 
 homesick for the wild coasts, the islands, and 
 the resinous pine-woods, where we used to 
 dream. I often think of those pines, sloping 
 down to meet the yellow sands, and the warm 
 caressing waves, waves with lips so hot that 
 they could easily kiss one into oblivion. I 
 think even while fainting in such an embrace, 
 we could gloat upon the beauty of the flying 
 white clouds, in the blue haze above us, Fancy 
 
240 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 floating on the bosom of an ardent tide, 
 dreamily watching the fitful blushes of the 
 reddening sky, our limbs stretched out in per 
 fect ease, while the form of our beloved rises 
 and falls in harmony with our own, and with 
 the pulse of the southern waters, as we float 
 and drift softly on to the golden shore of our 
 summer world. But my love, whom I love, 
 will he be there too ? Or only the favorite of 
 some fickle, feverish fancy ? 
 
 " How fearful it would be when we were cast 
 up on that enchanted beach, as we turned, ex 
 pecting to be greeted by the familiar eyes of 
 our dear one, only to be met by strangers or 
 worse by the one we hate ! All, God, what 
 a farce is this existence of ours, Waldo 1 
 
 " If I don t hear from you to-morrow, I am 
 going back to Paris to stay with Mrs. Olney 
 until you come for me ; for I am not only 
 homesick for Virginia, but more than all, I 
 am homesick for you, my love." 
 
 "YourBuTH." 
 
 He stared at the letter in a dumb, absent- 
 minded way ; stared straight over the dainty, 
 closely written sheets, with their faint, oriental 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 241 
 
 perfume; stared out through the window, 
 and over the angry North Sea, that was fling 
 ing great leaden-colored waves in desperate 
 wrath against the huge iron wall that curbed 
 its furious progress ; stared straight through 
 space to Paris, where Buth was waiting his 
 return, all unconscious that she might never 
 see him again. The memory of that last 
 tender good-night, and the kiss she had given 
 him, made him groan in anguish for the loss 
 of her. He threw his arms out on the table, 
 and burying his face in them, wept. 
 
 Her letter was crumpled up in his hand ; 
 and the scent of it made him feel her waving 
 hair once more against his cheek; and her 
 darling voice again seemed to echo, u Good 
 night, Waldo, my love ! " He groaned aloud. 
 " Good-night, baby Buth, my wife ! " A 
 horrid choking feeling arose in his throat, as 
 he pictured her alone in the world, with all 
 its temptations and cruel injustices stretching 
 out before her through the long years. A 
 sickening fear beset him ; suppose he should 
 be killed, and Will Dunston survive ? Then 
 she would be unprotected ; for what refuge 
 
242 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 has a woman who is alone. It is true that 
 money is a great power, and Waldo Bronson 
 felt some consolation in knowing that he had 
 left her sole and undisputed mistress of his 
 fortune ; he had even been clever enough to 
 secure it against the meddlesome interference 
 of any deceitful relative. 
 
 He alone knew Ruth s nervous temperament, 
 and her weaknesses ; and he not only longed 
 to live to shield her from her friends, who 
 always misjudged her, but from her own ca 
 prices, which were so liable to mislead her. 
 A presentiment warned him that he would 
 fall, and that he would never see her again. 
 For a moment he was strongly tempted to 
 show the " white feather ; " but in the next 
 second he felt ashamed of the coward thought. 
 Then his hatred for Will Dunston flamed up 
 fiercer than ever. The knowledge that Jack 
 Carey would always be her friend, gave 
 him a little comfort. Seizing a pen, he 
 dashed off a note to him on the spur of the 
 moment. 
 
 " My dear Carey," he wrote, " I am engaged 
 in an unfortunate affair that means life or 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 243 
 
 death to me. If I do not return, I charge you 
 to take Ruth home to her family. You will 
 not mind doing this for her, I am sure, know 
 ing as I do the old friendship which exists 
 between you. Tours, BRONSON." 
 
 Then he wrote to Ruth a long letter, such a 
 letter as I hope no other woman will ever re 
 ceive from the man she has grown to love 
 more than anything on earth a love letter, 
 yet containing good counsel, uncomplaining 
 and without reproach ; a letter full of pas 
 sionate, hopeless farewell. He sealed it and 
 arose quickly, buttoning up his great coat, as 
 Colonel Tom Cockletree s strong bass voice 
 called out to him from the door : 
 
 " Trap s here, Bronson ; are you ready ? " 
 
 "All right," he answered, mechanically 
 drawing on his gloves. 
 
 " Cockletree, will you do me the favor of 
 posting these letters, after it is all over ? " he 
 asked, handing the Colonel the letters for his 
 wife and Jack Carey. 
 
 " Why, certainly, old man ; but it will take 
 more than that measley specimen of humanity 
 to make it all over for you. You ll live to 
 
244 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 pick a button-hole from his turf yet, my boy," 
 he answered in his breezy Texan way, pocket 
 ing the letters and marching out to where 
 the carriage was waiting to take them to the 
 rendezvous. All the way there the Colonel 
 told cheerful anecdotes of the affairs he had 
 had the honor to participate in. One man, 
 he said, had had his ear cut off, and had 
 grabbed it and stuck it on again before it got 
 cold. Another was shot through the coat- 
 tails by an experienced duelist, who wished only 
 to teach his adversary a lesson ; whereupon the 
 man with the riddled coat-tail promptly shook 
 hands all around, saying that he had had 
 enough, and turned heel for home. 
 
 " But one affair I was mixed up in rather 
 sickened me of such things/ rattled on the 
 Colonel. " Two boys with the down scarcely 
 on their faces quarreled about some fancied 
 insult, and met in Belgium. Like all hot 
 headed youths, they had blood in their eyes, 
 and at the first shot the youngest, a French 
 man, was pierced through the lungs. His 
 friends got him off in a boat to a yacht that 
 was waiting near; but he died immediately 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 345 
 
 after ; and his body was taken to his mother, 
 
 the old Baronne de M , at the Chateau in 
 
 Normandy." 
 
 They had now passed the racecourse and 
 the castle, and were driving rapidly along the 
 rough road which winds over the top of the 
 sand-dunes. 
 
 Presently they came to a dip in the hill that 
 led down to the shore. It was a lonely place, 
 and well sheltered by broken sand-hills, which 
 were sparsely covered with the growth of sad- 
 looking brown sea-grass. Yery seldom any 
 one went there except perhaps a few solitary 
 fisher-folk. 
 
 Sea-gulls clamored and screamed to each 
 other in astonishment at the unusual sight of 
 people. Waldo Bronson and the Colonel left 
 the carriage at the top of the hill, and made 
 their way down to where Will Dunston, his 
 second, and a surgeon were already waiting. 
 Will Dunston was rapidly walking up and 
 down. He was buttoned up to his chin in a 
 great fur-lined coat. His yellow face gleamed 
 ghastly in the early morning, and his eyes 
 were blood-shot, as though he had not slept, 
 
246 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 when lie turned to greet Waldo Bronson and 
 the Colonel. After a few preliminaries they 
 selected pistols and took their places. 
 
 Colonel Cockletree was confident that Waldo 
 Bronson was a fine shot, and Will Dunston 
 felt that his most important moment in life 
 had come. He meant, also, to send his bullet 
 home if possible ; for he hated the man and 
 wanted his wife s money (of late his bankers 
 had not been so polite to him as formerly). 
 His hand was quiet, but his heart was fierce 
 and ravenous as a tiger s. 
 
 They shuddered with disgust as they both 
 stood back to back, then paced the regu 
 lation distance, wheeled around to the side, 
 and fired. As the smoke cleared, Waldo Bron 
 son reeled and fell forward on his face. The 
 blood spurted out from an ugly hole in his 
 temple. Colonel Cockletree turned him gently 
 over as the surgeon knelt down to operate. A 
 little blood did not upset the Colonel. He had 
 done too much brave service, and seen too 
 many of the boys, both the blue and the gray, 
 shot down around him in the late war, to be 
 unnerved now. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 247 
 
 " He is quite dead," the surgeon said, listen 
 ing in vain for the beat of his heart. 
 
 Will Dunston stood near, with a look of 
 almost fiendish joy on his swarthy face, gazing 
 at the dead man. He had not escaped entirely 
 without injury, for his arm hung limp and 
 broken by his side. 
 
 He could not realize that at last the man 
 was dead who had stood in his way so long, 
 and that now Ruth Bronson was widowed, 
 and within a day or two s journey of him. 
 
 He was so dazed that he hardly felt the 
 surgeon binding up his arm. Then his second 
 hurried him away, out of the reach of the law 
 and out of the country. 
 
 Colonel Cockletree contrived to have the 
 body of Waldo Bronson conveyed to Paris in 
 some miraculous manner, leaving it in charge of 
 a well-known personage, who is accustomed to 
 managing such awkward affairs. He then 
 caught a P. and O. steamer, and went out to 
 India to stay with one of the most genial of 
 good fellows, for a six months or so, to shoot, 
 and to enjoy the novel society of the hills, 
 thus escaping the whirlwind of comment and 
 
248 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 scandal which naturally follows after such an 
 affair. He did not post Waldo s letter to Euth, 
 but sent it under cover of Jack Carey s, hoping 
 that thus the news would be broken less sud 
 denly to her. 
 
 " The blood is hot that must be cold for this." 
 
 SHAKESPBARB. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 * Never morning wore 
 To evening, but some heart did break." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 WILL DUNSTON went straight on to Paris 
 from Ostende. He intended to get all his 
 affairs arranged for immediate flight if neces 
 sary. On looking over the hotel register, he 
 started in surprise to see the name of Mr. and 
 Mrs. John Howes, Mrs. Waldo Bronson, and 
 J. Carey ; he had thought that they were at 
 Monte Carlo still. Turning to the clerk, he 
 asked when they had arrived. 
 
 "Only this morning, sir," the man an 
 swered. 
 
 " Send my cards up," he said, selecting 
 them from his case awkwardly with his left 
 hand. His right arm was in splints, and hung 
 in a black sling. 
 
350 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 The clerk, who was an Englishman, eyed 
 the arm with admiring interest, and put the 
 accident down to a hunting disaster. 
 
 Here, boy, take this up to No. 18," he 
 called out to a page who was lounging near. 
 
 "They have all gone out to the Grand 
 Opera," the clerk volunteered loquaciously to 
 Will Dunston. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! Well, just leave the cards, 
 please." 
 
 He turned and went rapidly up with the 
 porter to the room assigned him, and soon 
 threw on his evening clothes, and ran quickly 
 down into the streets. Hailing a fiacre, he 
 called out to the cocher: <c A V Opera, vite!" 
 
 The man whipped up his wretched horse to 
 a gallop, quite indifferent to whether or not 
 it might drop dead in its traces ; for he knew 
 that the carcass would fetch more money in 
 the nearest meat shop than it would in har 
 ness. The constant crack and pop of the 
 whip as it descended on the poor brute s hide, 
 made a sort of accompaniment to the labored 
 breath and stumbling gait of the tortured 
 creature. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 251 
 
 I shall always associate " beautiful Paris 5 
 with the gaunt, hungry, suffering animals that 
 they have the effrontery to call cab-horses, 
 and the ruffianly drivers who lash their 
 bruised victims when there is not a " yard of 
 go " in them ; also with the anarchist con 
 cierges, and their confidential friends, who 
 rule every household by threats of blackmail ; 
 and with the anarchist maitres d hotel and 
 footmen, and their perfect system of robbery. 
 In fact, with the whole vulture brood ; and 
 what is more amusing than anything else, is 
 that grand affair that is jokingly called " The 
 French Courts of Justice." It is verily a 
 ring within a ring ; and if any poor, deluded 
 Englishman or American finds himself most 
 outrageously robbed and systematically swin 
 dled (which is not a rare thing, believe me), 
 do not let him leave more money in "beauti 
 ful Paris" by going to law; but rather let 
 him " fold his tent like the Arabs, and silently 
 steal away an undignified and often impos 
 sible retreat for the pugnacious man or woman 
 who smarts under many " sharp dealings." 
 It is just as well, my dear sir or madam, to 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 submit to the inevitable, so long as you are 
 wedded to "beautiful Paris," and make up 
 yours minds to be cheated in divers wondrous 
 ways. 
 
 Try and look the other way, if you happen 
 to see what is going on; for if you even 
 mildly suggest that you do not approve of 
 such republican customs as those to which 
 my unfortunate country-people are subjected, 
 in every instance, you will be in danger of 
 various fashionable explosives or worse 
 the French law courts, where they talk in 
 high C through their noses for hours and 
 hours about every bagatelle, until you go 
 away more like a lunatic than an ordinary 
 person, with your nerves tingling, and your 
 mind (if you are fortunate enough to have 
 preserved any) a seething, boiling, gray mass. 
 The doctors say that the brain is gray matter, 
 do they not ? 
 
 You return from the Palais de Justice quite 
 exhausted, and go to bed for two days or so 
 with hysterics if you are a woman ; but ah ! 
 if you are a man then you throw out your 
 chest, and hunt up all your friends, with whom 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 253 
 
 you d n Paris up hill and down, and swear 
 that you will make a reform if you have to 
 spend your last franc on its accomplishment. 
 But you never do anything but talk no, not 
 you. You simply take another drink, and go 
 for a drive in the Bois to cool your manly 
 brow. There you see strings of gaudy car 
 riages filled with uncanny looking French 
 dames, who ogle you while you wonder 
 vaguely what they would look like should 
 they in a rash moment wash off that mask 
 of white and red. 
 
 You shiver as several purple veils the 
 latest monstrosity of 92 shock your artistic 
 eye ; for of course we give the man about 
 Paris the credit of being artistic, or he would 
 not rave so much about the pretty Pari- 
 siennes, who get themselves up after the 
 manner of a Chinese Joss. I hear that next 
 year the newest whim is to be ebonized teeth ; 
 and a black interrogation mark over each eye 
 brow will be d la mode. 
 
 These purple veils of which I speak make 
 the poor ladies look as though they had been 
 dead and buried for six months, and the green 
 
254 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 mould had gathered by the time that the stu 
 dents had dug them up and paraded them 
 through the Hois as a ghastly joke. 
 
 Even the cachet of the French modiste has 
 disappeared ; judging from the fearful and 
 wonderful things they " create " now, the 
 artistes have all flown to more congenial 
 countries. 
 
 France is now on the eve of another hideous 
 revolution ; well, a sound thrashing would do 
 her good, would be very beneficial to her 
 morals, manners and tactics, in fact. 
 
 The judge on the bench is mortally afraid of 
 the culprit he is judging ; for he feels the 
 strong tow of the under current, and knows 
 that any night he may be dragged out of his 
 bed by the howling, blood-thirsty hounds, and 
 rushed off to be made oil for the guillotine. 
 
 Whenever I am in Paris, if I allow myself 
 one hour s solitude, I feel restless, morbid and 
 furious ; and I often wonder if it is not the 
 dumb, unconscious influence of the souls of the 
 slaughtered, that causes such a state of mind. 
 
 Paris has gone through many battles of 
 blood ; maybe that is why the trees in her 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 255 
 
 wide, lovely streets flourish so wonderfully. 
 The salvation of France may yet be brought 
 about by a few of her women ; I mean her 
 serious earnest women; I know several of 
 them. There is no one who works harder or 
 more faithfully than many of these French 
 women (although, according to the law of 
 France, their rights are no more than those of 
 a dog), while their lords and masters lounge 
 in the wine-shops, drinking cognac and ab 
 sinthe, or spend their last sou at the races. 
 
 When I first came to France I was full of 
 sentiment and adoration for everything 
 French. I loved even the wood-paved Boule 
 vards ; the street-criers had rare music for 
 me ; I haunted the picture galleries, museums, 
 churches, and libraries; and grew hot with 
 indignation if any of my friends spoke slight 
 ingly of the people. But now, ah me ! it 
 makes me well-nigh weep when I think of my 
 disillusion. I grieve almost as though I had 
 lost something very near and dear to me. 
 Perhaps some day the old Regime will return 
 to France ; and then life will be pleasant 
 living there. 
 
256 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Standing in the pit of the Grand Opera 
 House, Will Dunston swept his glass around 
 the boxes. Yes ! There she was in a box on 
 the second tier. She was leaning forward a 
 little, her eyes shining, her lips parted, while 
 listening in rapture all unconscious of the 
 great sorrow in store for her to Lohengrin s 
 farewell to the swan. 
 
 He rushed up stairs, and knocked at the 
 door of the box. It was opened by John 
 Howes who greeted him cordially. 
 
 " Why, how are you, old man ? Come in," 
 and Ruth was startled a second after by his 
 shadow over her, and his voice beside her. 
 She glanced up and greeted him coldly. 
 
 " I thought you intended staying with Mrs. 
 Olney," he was saying. 
 
 " Yes, I did expect to do so, but received a 
 note at the last moment stating that she was 
 bored with Paris, and had taken her whole 
 manage off to Pau for the season." 
 
 " She will get some good runs there if she 
 has a few Irishmen. It s a banking 
 country more or less, he remarked absently, 
 gazing down at her, and noticing with admira- 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 257 
 
 tion every detail of her exquisite toilette. She 
 wore a white tulle robe, with a faint rose tint 
 here and there ; and in her hair was twined a 
 wreath of white jasmine. The single string 
 of white pearls which she wore around her 
 throat made her skin look more deliciously 
 fair than ever. 
 
 She was looking with curious wonder at his 
 arm, which was carefully done up. Just then 
 Mrs. Howes touched his arm with her fan. 
 
 " What was it, Mr. Dunston \ Another 
 1 cropper ? J> she smilingly asked. 
 
 " No, it was a voluntary this time," he 
 answered almost rudely, with a shrug of the 
 shoulders. He did not like being questioned, 
 and gave people very little satisfaction when 
 they were inquisitive. 
 
 He was half mad with anxiety, and maneu 
 vered to be with Ruth a moment alone, so he 
 could induce her to return to the hotel, where 
 they could talk to better advantage, and he 
 could tell her that she was free. His conceit 
 was so great that he firmly believed she would 
 be glad. He did not realize that the reason she 
 had said " Yes " the night of the ice-party was 
 
258 THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 
 
 because she was afraid of him. He attributed 
 the loving attention she showed her husband 
 to feminine deceit. 
 
 " Will you go for a walk with me in the 
 foyer ? he asked. 
 
 " Twill during the entre-acte," she answered 
 wearily. 
 
 " No, no ; come now ! " he whispered. 
 
 " Hush ! Elsa is singing " she replied. 
 
 In a box opposite Jack Carey was talking 
 with Mrs. Ralph Dawson. The little lady had 
 grown stouter even in a* few weeks. She was 
 gowned in peacock blue, and blazing with 
 diamonds. Jack Carey had met her in New 
 York the year before ; she was quite a study 
 to him in her heavy way. It was always a 
 matter of wonder to him how she could hold 
 her position in society with her common-place 
 intelligence ; but perhaps this was attributable 
 to her marvelous fund of small talk. 
 
 Mrs. Olney had once assured him that it was 
 the lady s good chef that made her so popular. 
 
 The soprano was loudly applauded, and 
 amid the confusion Will Dunston almost 
 dragged Ruth out. They went down the 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 259 
 
 marble staircase, and out into the wide hall 
 which overlooks the Avenue de 1 Opera. She 
 shrank away from the touch of his arm, and 
 loathed herself as usual for coming with him, 
 but she knew there would have been an argu 
 ment if she had not come. 
 
 People were promenading up and down. 
 She went over to a window and looked out. 
 The lamps were twinkling in long rows far 
 down the streets, and the gay world of Paris 
 was rolling on. He had no pity, and did not 
 hesitate for an instant ; but bending down he 
 looked her full in the eyes, whispering, " Will 
 you come away with me now, Buth ? 
 
 " How you weary me ! I wish you wouldn t 
 speak to me of such things, 5 she answered, 
 looking deadly bored, and turning to go. He 
 had even lost his animal magnetism for her 
 now ; but nevertheless she was still afraid of 
 him, she knew not why. 
 
 " Don t go, Buth, I ve something to say to 
 you." 
 
 They were quite alone in the foyer, and 
 only the steady tramp of a guard far down 
 the hall below broke the stillness. 
 
260 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 " He s dead, Ruth, and you belong to me 
 now ! J> His fingers closed convulsively on her 
 arm, and he held her as in a vice, when she 
 attempted to move, so that she felt again the 
 old pain of his cruel hand. 
 
 " Waldo dead! and you have killed him ! " 
 she screamed. "Oh, my God, it is horrible ! * 
 She covered her face and swayed like a reed, 
 but he held her firmly. 
 
 " Don t play the hypocrite with me, woman !" 
 he whispered fiercely. "You know that in 
 your heart of hearts you are glad to be rid of 
 a man you never loved, a man who should 
 have adopted you instead of marrying you," 
 he added, with a nasty sneer. She wrenched 
 herself away from him, and struck him full 
 in the mouth. 
 
 " You fool ! " she cried. " How I hate you ! 
 And if you want to know the truth, I ve always 
 hated you even when we were children to 
 gether I detested you, for I understood and 
 fathomed the abomination of that iniquity you 
 call your soul. If I have ever yielded to you 
 one moment, it was because you have made 
 the sensual part of my nature your study, and 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 261 
 
 brought all your evil power to bear on it. 
 You thought to subject me as you did poor 
 Mildred, for whose death and ruin you must 
 account on the great Judgment Day. You 
 have bored and persecuted me for months, 
 and the only reason that I wasted a moment 
 on you, was because I was a vain idiot, and 
 considered myself invulnerable ; then I was 
 frightened, and wanted to escape from the trap 
 I had set for myself. But I am not frightened 
 now and I will fight you to the death, inch 
 by inch, for the world isn t big enough to hold 
 us two. "Will Dunston, I hate you ! you un 
 derstand ? I hate you, and will leave no stone 
 unturned to bring you where you should be. 
 I hate you ! " 
 
 She was so weak that she scarcely spoke 
 above a whisper ; but the words tumbled over 
 each other thick and fast ; her slight frame 
 was shaking with emotion, and she leaned 
 against a stone column for support. 
 
 " Ah, Waldo, Waldo, forgive me ! " she 
 moaned. Her eyes were dry and hot, for no 
 tears came to her relief. 
 
 Will Dunston stared at her dumbly, hie wild 
 
262 THE SHADOW OF DEBIBE. 
 
 eyes shining like those of one insane. So he 
 had lost this woman, the only woman he had 
 ever felt like fighting or dying for. His great 
 passion unnerved him when he realized that 
 he had played his last card in vain ; and he 
 lost control, and sobbed hoarsely. 
 
 "Ah, I thought you would do that, you 
 coward ! " she cried, turning on him with the 
 fury of a tigress. " But why not go out and 
 do the only decent thing you can in your posi 
 tion, and end your miserable life ? " 
 
 She left him and tottered towards the box 
 where her friends were, with the intention 
 of denouncing him as a murderer. Her voice 
 was too weak to call for help from the guards 
 below. Will Dunston watched her in a hope 
 less, paralyzed way. Then he sped down the 
 corridors, and the grand stair-way, on, into the 
 night. The voices of the wind pursued him, 
 as he ran like a mad man down the avenue. 
 
 A poor, painted creature of the streets 
 caught at his wounded arm, and begged for a 
 night s lodging. He struck her savagely aside, 
 and rushed ahead. He wanted to be alone ; 
 but go as fast as he would the plaintive voices 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESTKE. 263 
 
 of the wind kept up with him, and the cold 
 stars seemed to follow him with watchful eyes. 
 
 Presently he came to the river, which was 
 gliding between the stone embankments like 
 a huge, hungry serpent, waiting to devour his 
 wretched body. Lights were gleaming in the 
 cafe near, and he stumbled in, and fell on the 
 nearest bench. Meanly clad men and women 
 were sitting around smoking and drinking. 
 Their brutal faces were marked with many 
 crimes and vices. Their irritating, high- 
 pitched voices drowned the voices of the wind ; 
 and he was grateful for a moment s respite. 
 
 A dirty waiter approached and asked him 
 what he wishe$ ; and he ordered a carafe, of 
 cognac, and a bottle of absinthe, and tossed off 
 glass after glass of the hellish mixture, until 
 the noise of the cafe, and the ghostly voices of 
 the wind made a confused discord in his 
 drunken brain. At last he lost consciousness, 
 and fell forward with his head on the table. 
 
 11 IB this the end, is this the end ?" 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 * Art thou lovely in thy tomb ? 
 Art thou cold in such a gloom ? 
 Bouse thee then, and make me room, 
 Miserere Domine. 1 
 
 ERIO MACK.AT. 
 
 MRS. HOWES was startled by hearing some 
 thing fall heavily against the door of the open 
 box; and on opening, was horrified to see 
 Ruth prostrate on the floor. Jack Carey lifted 
 her up, and took her inside. She was quite 
 unconscious, so they carried her down to the 
 carriage, and drove rapidly back to the hotel, 
 where the clerk handed Jack Carey the letters 
 from Colonel Cockletree, explaining every 
 thing. 
 
 It was all kept very quiet, and a week after 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIRE. 265 
 
 Jack Carey and Buth Bronson sailed on a 
 French steamer for New York. 
 
 They took Waldo Bronson s remains to 
 Maryland, and had them interred in the family 
 vault as directed. 
 
 One night after they had been at sea two or 
 three days, the storm made the ship roll about 
 like a swaggering monster ; Buth was restless, 
 and feverishly longing for a breath of fresh 
 air ; so she rose softly, and slipping on a big 
 fur-lined cloak, crept out of the cabin, as she 
 did not wish to awaken Martha, who was sleep 
 ing on the sofa by the port-hole, and dreaming 
 no doubt of the " Fields of yaller corn." 
 Reaching the deck, she went well forward, 
 and crouched down on the floor on a coil of 
 rope. The ship dipped far down in the 
 phosphorescent, foaming waters, as she 
 ploughed unsteadily along. The horizon 
 seemed very near ; and great dark clouds like 
 phantom bats were flying across the angry steel- 
 colored sky. Flocks of sea birds, worn out 
 by the recent hurricane, had taken refuge in 
 the riggings, and were calling plaintively now 
 and then to each other. 
 
286 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 Kuth felt that she was going mad, for she 
 had to exert all her strength of will-power to 
 keep from leaping into the ocean, where she 
 could be carried down, down into black ob 
 livion, where her brain would not be so hot, 
 nor the pain in her heart so endless. She 
 thought of her dead lying below in the ship. 
 How cold and lonely he must be in the dark 
 ness. An awful longing possessed her to steal 
 quietly to him, tear off the coffin-lid, and lie 
 down by his side all through the night ; she 
 felt sure ne would make room for her, even 
 though dead. 
 
 " Ah, Waldo, Waldo ! Forgive, forgive ! " 
 she moaned, with her white face turned up to 
 the pitiless sky. 
 
 A man, muffled in a storm-coat, walking up 
 and down, observed the little black-robed 
 figure as he passed by ; he turned and went 
 aft. It was Jack Carey ; but she did not sec 
 him. A few pale stars peeped timidly out 
 from the purple sky, throwing a violet shade 
 over the water. 
 
 She sat there far into the night, until driven 
 into her cabin by the break of day ; and then 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 267 
 
 she lay down in her berth, oppressed by that 
 utter hopelessness which comes to so few spirits, 
 loathing herself, and rebelling against God and 
 destiny. 
 
 * After life s fitful fever he sleeps well." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 " Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, 
 She turns to favor and to prettiness." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 RUTH had been at the old homestead in 
 Virginia for almost six months ; and during 
 that time Mrs. Milson died. She had been in 
 delicate health for some time, and Ruth s mis 
 fortune had aggravated her malady. 
 
 Betty, who had always been the family 
 guide, assumed the whole command of the 
 household, and by her bright,, unselfish ex 
 ample, made the home-life once more worth 
 living. 
 
 Ruth spent the long days in the dear, old- 
 fashioned garden, where she dreamed away 
 the hours with the flowers and insects. 
 
 She knew that she had gone mad, and at 
 times wondered when she would awaken, and 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. - 269 
 
 feel as other people did ; for she heard and 
 saw everything through a soft, misty veil of 
 uncertainty. She did not even suffer now, for 
 her blood felt sluggish, and her nerves numb. 
 
 She would sit for hours in the boat that rose 
 and fell with the pulse of the river, where it 
 was tied at the foot of the shelter. The water 
 rippled by with a soothing song ; and she 
 would often lean over and dip her hands in 
 the cool, clear depths, and watch the tiny 
 darting gudgeons nibble at her fingers. 
 
 How thin she had grown ! Every vein was 
 traceable like a blue thread through the trans 
 parent skin ; and around her big, gray eyes 
 the purple shadows had deepened. 
 
 She went down every day to the culvert, 
 and the brick well on the terrace, and gave a 
 low, familiar whistle ; when, if you watched 
 intently, you could see tiny heads peeping out 
 here and there with shining bright eyes. They 
 were her snakes and frogs and terrapin. The 
 terrapin would swim after her as she walked 
 listlessly along the banks, their awkward necks 
 and heads craning and bobbing, and their 
 funny little fins of feet paddling away like ill- 
 
270 THE SHADOW OF DESIRK. 
 
 adjusted oars. She frequently heard from 
 Jack Carey, and he came to see her very often 
 also. 
 
 He was a promising young politician now, 
 and his success made her very glad. His 
 letters to her were full of his ambitions and 
 struggles, and of his great love for her. Yet 
 he knew that she had only the same affection 
 for him that she had for her brothers ; even 
 as he knew that her youth and love were 
 buried in the grave of Waldo Bronson. 
 
 He had seen her kiss the dead man s poor, 
 wounded temple, when he was brought to her 
 in Paris ; and he had seen her slowly and 
 surely growing mad, but he had watched over 
 her all the while as tenderly and lovingly as 
 only a devoted man knows how to watch. 
 Every week he went down from Washington to 
 see her. Late in the new year, he saw that she 
 was slowly recovering. Her mind was more 
 concentrated, and he thanked her sister Betty 
 for the change. Betty Milson was never too 
 busy with her poor to forget that " charity 
 begins at home ; v and Jack Carey blessed and 
 loved every gray hair that clustered around 
 
THE SHADOW OP DESIKE. 271 
 
 her gentle face. He was sure that with Ruth 
 as his wife, he could accomplish great things 
 for his country and State. He knew from 
 experience that she was a born diplomat. 
 Everything he did was in the hope of her 
 approval ; and if she had died, our glorious 
 country would have lost one of its ablest men, 
 for he only lived and worked under her guid 
 ance, and for her and her only. She loved 
 her country and her people, and felt that she 
 ought not to lead such a living death. 
 
 Even while insane, she was aware that under 
 her influence Jack Carey would gain honors 
 that no politician had ever achieved so young. 
 She understood only too well that she loved 
 him in the way that she loved her brothers 
 Carroll and Herbert ; and at the thought of 
 marrying him, the old cry would rush to her 
 lips, u Ah, Waldo, Waldo, forgive, forgive ! v 
 Then her mind would wander again ; and she 
 would spend hours roaming about the gardens, 
 and woods, and by the river, crying aloud on 
 her dead husband. 
 
 ** O, without thee what am I ? " 
 
 SON*. 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 " I love thee with a love I seemed to lose 
 
 With my lost saints ; I love thee with the breath, 
 Smiles, tears, of all my life and, if God choose, 
 I shall but love thee better after death." 
 
 BROWNING. 
 
 IT was in March, and Ruth had been home 
 over a year. The snow-drops and crocuses 
 were " a-blowing and a-growing " in unex 
 pected spots all through the garden and fields. 
 Shy-eyed violets smiled sweetly up from sunny 
 corners ; and the birds seemed unusually busy. 
 
 Ruth was walking briskly up the path that 
 led to the village. She was beginning to take 
 an active interest in Betty s parish work. A 
 faint rose-color tinted her delicate face, and 
 her eyes shone with their former intelligence. 
 
 As she passed by the post-office, she dropped 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE, 373 
 
 a large letter into the box, a letter addressed 
 to Jack Carey, in answer to an appeal she had 
 received from him the night before. She 
 turned away without regret, after she knew 
 that the letter was posted beyond recall, and 
 continued on her different errands of charity 
 and benevolence. 
 
 She seemed to hear the voice of her dead 
 husband wishing her peace and happiness as 
 she went along. 
 
 "Ah, Waldo, Waldo! is it for the best? 
 You who know me better than I do myself 
 know that it is for the cause, for the cause, dear 
 Waldo, that I shall do it, and not through 
 love of Jack ! " she murmured. 
 
 The spicy spring breezes kissed her cheek, 
 as she seemed to hear her husband s voice say 
 in reply, " It is well, baby Ruth, my darling." 
 
 She returned home with a heart outrivaling 
 the birds hearts in its gladness. 
 
 As she passed through the garden gate, she 
 stooped and picked a handful of snow-drops, 
 which were blooming on the edge of the path. 
 When she reached her chamber she placed 
 them in a glass of water before a miniature of 
 
274 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 her husband, which she kept on her dressing- 
 table ; his kind eyes smiled at her from out 
 the ivory ; and she almost felt his presence in 
 the room, so close ivas the tie between their 
 two souls, though his had gone on its long, 
 mysterious journey without her own. 
 
 Jack Carey was going out to a State func 
 tion the next night, when her letter was 
 handed to him ; his handsome, boyish face 
 paled with anticipation, and his hands trem 
 bled so that he could scarcely tear open the 
 envelope. 
 
 "I remember when we were children to 
 gether, that you always called me your little 
 wife, dear Jack," the letter ran. "You 
 vowed that you would have no other that 
 you would be true to me ; and you have kept 
 your vow, dear. Even in those ideal days, I 
 never gave you my promise, though. You ask 
 me to stand by you, and help you in your am 
 bition ; but, Jack, can t you accept my advice 
 and help without marriage ? After all, what 
 is marriage? It is simply an empty form, 
 which binds two people by vows which human 
 frailty is so often tempted to break ; and then 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 275 
 
 they blame each other, forgetting that the 
 blood goes to the head without invitation. 
 
 "Marriage in the beginning was, in my 
 humble opinion, a contract between men and 
 women who do not trust each other. Of 
 course, I do not deny that it is most praise 
 worthy for properly regulated Christians ; so 
 I suppose that when you come into full power 
 you will pass a bill making the bonds of matri 
 mony more binding than ever. But I mustn t 
 tease you, Jack, so I will hasten to answer 
 your question. 
 
 " You beg me to be your wife, knowing that 
 I do not love you. Are you not afraid, you 
 brave boy ? 
 
 " I wonder if any woman was ever aware 
 of her own insanity ? Jack, dear, I have been 
 aware of how pitifully mad I have been ever 
 since my husband was so brutally taken from 
 me. It is only a few weeks since I have 
 grown at all sane ; it is not a happy nor good 
 exchange, for I rebel against fate and dream 
 of c what dreams may come. I have a vague 
 recollection of picking up a book with that 
 title once ; I do not remember who wrote it, 
 
276 THE SHADOW OF DESIHE. 
 
 or whether it was considered fine, but a strange 
 feeling ran through me of the possibilities of 
 what dreams may come. 
 
 " Dreams ! WTien we are babies, with our 
 wonder-eyes full of the infinite, trusting, 
 dumb, and content if we are allowed to suck 
 our tiny pink toes, and look up goo-gooing 
 into our mother s face, that tender, beautiful 
 face, which seems to us a poem full of satis 
 faction and bliss no matter how plain she 
 may be to the more practical world, to our 
 adoring eyes she is perfection then we dream. 
 A sleepy comfort pervades our little hearts as 
 we drink in the sweet, warm milk from her 
 willing breasts, while she croons to us until 
 we can almost hear the soothing sweep of 
 angels* wings, as we are wafted to the shores 
 of Slumber-land. Sometimes in the night I 
 would dream that my mother s face gleamed 
 over me like a glorious star; but her eyes 
 were sad ah, wondrous sad, and a fear would 
 seize me that unhappiness hovered over her. 
 When her tears fell hot and fast on my baby face 
 I would stretch out my little arms to comfort 
 her, and nestle close with my ear pressed near 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIBE. 277 
 
 to her heart, listening to its beats. Then the 
 kind angel of peace overshadowed me, and I 
 slept But the dreams of later life. 
 
 " I dreamed once that God was a capricious 
 child, wilful and unreliable. The earth was 
 his football, fancy his playground, and we his 
 toys. Sometimes when he was pleased he 
 gave us a tea party ; and all the dolls in favor 
 were invited. 
 
 " We all roamed through a garden, where 
 wonderful flowers and fruits bloomed and 
 ripened ; honey dripped from the fountains, 
 and the bubbling springs were sweet with 
 strange perfumes. "We all sang with the birds, 
 and our joy was one with theirs. Often God 
 was angry ; a cruel, petulant mood would 
 possess him, chilling us like the deadly cold 
 mist which creeps over a lowland after the 
 sun has gone on a journey. Sea-gulls would 
 scream on the lonely crags, and the timid 
 moor-hen shiver on her nest in the rushes. 
 Then we were cast out of our paradise, if we 
 were dolls fortunate enough to have a paradise 
 to lose, and were left to wander about in a 
 wilderness dangerous and horrible. Our little 
 
278 THE 8HADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 feet danced, crawled, and wandered about like 
 those of an automaton when the strings are 
 pulled. Sometimes he led us gently and lov 
 ingly along. Then suddenly we felt an angry 
 pull which jerked us off our feet, and knew 
 instinctively that we were dangling over some 
 awful pit of uncertainty. 
 
 " Often, now, I dream of space, terrible, 
 endless space, and of how cold it is out there. 
 I am cold even at the thought, despite the fire 
 burning near me, and my warm furs. How 
 cold the poor, naked spirit must be when it is 
 cast out from the nice, soft, warm body, which 
 scientists call clay. What do they know about 
 it? Simply nothing, nothing, nothing. It 
 seems to me that like Robert Buchanan s 
 Balder the Beautiful, I was born in a dream, 
 and I dwell in a dream, and I go in a dream 
 to die. 
 
 " Some good men tell us that we can only 
 hope, believe, and pray. But what can they 
 say when we get them to the wall and ques 
 tion them too closely ? Why should we be in 
 such a position as to be frightened into prayer ; 
 and for what, and to whom shall we pray ? 
 
THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 279 
 
 We did not ask to be, or to go ; I hugged 
 those lines to my heart of Omar Khayydm 
 when first I read them ; they gave me a grim 
 satisfaction : 
 
 What without asking, hither hurried, whence ? 
 And without asking whither hurried hence ? 
 Oh, many a cup of this forbidden wine, 
 Must drown the memory of that insolence. 
 
 " They assure me that I am a soul sent for 
 a purpose. I grind my teeth in rebellion, for 
 T hate a purpose ; and I should hate being a 
 puppet. After all, perhaps I am an animated 
 puppet. 
 
 " How I have adored strong and beautiful 
 things. I have loved music, warmth, sunlight, 
 intoxications, and all things that snakes and 
 butterflies love. I have delighted in curling 
 myself up, soft and cosy, in silken things. I 
 have loved my slender, supple limbs, and the 
 gold down on my arms just where they round, 
 and the blue veins meandering off like a tiny 
 stream down a bend in the hills. I have loved 
 my life, which I have felt throbbing in fresh 
 youth ; and I have loved my love, for he was 
 true and tender; and this love for him has 
 
280 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 maddened me. Ah, bliss, eternal, infinite! 
 i What dreams may come. It rings through 
 my tired brain like a knell, for the dreams 
 that came true were horrible. 
 
 " Now I feel old, old ; my blood is thin and 
 pale like the juice of a stale pomegranate. My 
 heart responds no more. All its cunning ma 
 chinery has rusted long ago ; but that was the 
 night when the horrid dreams came true, and 
 my heart broke with a crash ; ah, God ! how 
 it hurt. They say that I have been insane. I 
 dream that I am so still. But I live in a 
 dream ; and am perhaps happier so, for the 
 power of suffering has died long ago. Only 
 the spirits know all. They are kind, and cool, 
 and gray, as they crowd around my bed at 
 night to soothe me. I wonder if I shall ever 
 really awake, and realize the joys of what 
 dreams may come. 
 
 " You say that your ambition will die, Jack, 
 if I do not marry you. Are you ready to ac 
 cept a woman whose love has all been left 
 on the road behind her? A woman whose 
 brain is sick and mad with its own follies ? A 
 woman older than you ? Is it true that you 
 
THE SHADOW OF DE8IKE. 281 
 
 would be content if you only had the legal 
 right to protect me ? Ah, Jack ! Such love 
 is only known perhaps in some undiscovered 
 country. I feel that as your wife my youth 
 might return, and that this fire which burns 
 in my brain would be quenched ; but I hesi 
 tate, I hesitate ; because your ambition is too 
 much a part of myself for me to be a barrier, 
 though twas I who first fanned it into flame, 
 you remember? 
 
 " When you come to me Sunday, I will pro 
 mise you to go hand in hand with you until 
 your goal in life is reached, if you still desire 
 me to do so after reading this wild letter. 
 
 " God grant that you may soon taste the 
 fruit of your ambition ; for life of late has 
 thrown out fresh shoots of interest for me, and 
 does not pall upon me as it did some months 
 ago. "KuTH." 
 
 Jack Carey folded the closely-written sheets 
 of foreign paper lovingly, and put them away 
 carefully in his pocket. A divine light shone 
 in his face, making it appear grand and god 
 like, and he hastily sent off a telegram, with 
 his old-time impulsiveness " We shall pass a 
 
283 THE SHADOW OF DESIRE. 
 
 bill together that will open the gates of a fairy 
 land." 
 
 The next day he was with her. She received 
 him in the garden where the brown earth was 
 bursting into verdure. 
 
 They went down the old paths, through the 
 fields and down to the shelter where the boat 
 was moored. The waves curled softly over 
 the beach, and the grace and promise of spring 
 time was everywhere visible on earth and in 
 the air. The possession of her filled his being 
 with ecstacy. 
 
 She looked at the boy thoughtfully and 
 earnestly. The lines of her face revealed only 
 the resigned and the unimpassioned woman, 
 which destiny, inexorable and pitiless, had 
 finally evolved. The conflict and the strife 
 of the once restless heart was subdued, and 
 far into the depths of the gray eyes there dwelt 
 the peace which comes to the passionless the 
 peace of surrendered desire. 
 
 I held it truth- 
 
 That men may rise upon the stepping stones 
 Of their dead selves to higher things. 1 " 
 
 TEHNYSON. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 <*y> 0? THE 
 
 WVERSIT7]