29 She almost cried out at the tone of his voice. That he tried to make it property hurt and amazed, she knew, but her heart told her that his one great emotion was an overwhelming relief. That he had no intention of even paying her the compliment of discussion. 

29

Her lips felt like ice as she answered him in a whisper. 

"No—" And the silence came again before Chris said constrainedly: 

"Very well—it shall be as you wish—of course!" 

He waited a moment, but she did not speak, and he turned to the door. "Good-night, Marie Celeste." 

"Good-night." 

The door opened, and after a moment she heard it shut again softly, and the sound of his footsteps dying away down the corridor. 

That nobody should know, that nobody should ever guess, was the one feverish thought in Marie's brain as she lay awake through the long night, listening to the sound of the waves on the shore, and trying to make some sort of plans for the future. 

To behave as if nothing were the matter, as if she were quite happy. An impossible task it seemed, and yet she meant to do it. She would not further alienate Chris by scenes and tears. 

If he did not care for her she would not let him think that it worried her. Surely, if she were brave and turned a smiling face to a world that had suddenly grown so empty something good would come out of it all. Some small reward would creep out of the blackness that enveloped her. 

Though she knew it was unjust in her heart she laid all the trouble at Dakers' door—"Feathers," as Chris and young Atkins called him. She thought of his ugly, kindly face as she lay there in the darkness, and silently hated him. She would never be able to like him, she would never be able to forgive him. But for him and his carelessly spoken words . . . and then she hid her face in the pillow, and for the first time the tears came. What was the use of blaming him when the blame was not his? How could he help it that Chris did not love her? What was it to do with him if Chris had 30 seen fit to marry her in order to get her father's money? 

30

It was fate, that was all. A cruel fate that had drawn a line through her happiness almost before the 

 Prev. P 26/287 next