"
Maude cried on silently, thinking how cruel fate was to have taken one
brother and spared the other. Who--save Anne Ashton--would have missed
Val Elster; while Lord Hartledon--at least he had made the life of one
heart. A poor bruised heart now; never, never to be made quite whole
again.
Thus the dowager, in her blindness, began her plans. In her blindness! If
we could only foresee the ending of some of the unholy schemes that many
of us are apt to weave, we might be more willing to leave them humbly in
a higher Hand than ours. Do they ever bring forth good, these plans, born
of our evil passions--hatred, malice, utter selfishness? I think not.
They may seem to succeed triumphantly, but--watch the triumph to the end.
CHAPTER XIII.
FEVER.
The dews of an October evening were falling upon Calne, as Lord Hartledon
walked from the railway-station. Just as unexpectedly as he had arrived
the morning you first saw him, when he was only Val Elster, had he
arrived now. By the merest accident one of the Hartledon servants
happened to be at the station when the train arrived, and took charge of
his master's luggage.
"All well at home, James?"
"All quite well, my lord."
Several weeks had elapsed since his brother's death, and Lord Hartledon
had spent them in London. He went up on business the week after the
funeral, and did not return again.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196