And as the music sounded louder, faster, wilder and wilder with the
gipsy madness--then in that darkening bedchamber his soul became
articulate in a cry of humiliation--
"God in His mercy forgive me, how raw I was!"
A vision came before his closed eyes; the maple-bordered street in
Cranston, the long, straight, wide street where Mary Kramer lived; a
summer twilight; Mary in her white muslin dress on the veranda steps,
and a wistaria vine climbing the post beside her, half-embowering her.
How cool and sweet and good she looked! How dear--and how _kind_!--she
had always been to him.
Dusk stole through the windows: the music ceased and the tea-hour was
over. The carriages were departing, bearing the gay people who went
away laughing, calling last words to one another, and, naturally, quite
unaware that a young man, who, five days before, had adopted them and
called them "his own," was lying in a darkened room above them, and
crying like a child upon his pillow.
X. The Cab at the Corner
A ten o'clock, a page bearing a card upon a silver tray knocked upon the
door, and stared with wide-eyed astonishment at the disordered gentleman
who opened it.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87