A bitter reckoning; or, Violet Arleigh
[Pg 45]

[Pg 46]

With a muttered imprecation, Leonard Yorke thrust the paper into his pocket and hastened from the room. In the hall outside he encountered Miss Rutledge. Upstairs, in the chamber of death, the body of Rosamond Arleigh was being prepared for its last resting-place. The house was very still; the awful shadow of death rested over it.

[Pg 47]

[Pg 47]

Below stairs, the servants with busy hands were removing all traces of the ball—the faded garlands and drooping evergreens, the débris of the supper. Everything was done in a swift, silent fashion to restore the house to its usual order and decorum; and the drawing-room, where only a few hours before merriment had reigned supreme, was being prepared to receive the body of the mistress of The Oaks. The burial casket was already ordered, and in a short time the place which had known Rosamond Arleigh would know her no more.

“You look tired and troubled, Leonard,” began Mrs. Rutledge, kindly. “Come and have some coffee. You are not able to ride home now.”

“Thanks, dear Mrs. Rutledge,” he returned, “but I could not take anything, and I think I had better go home at once. Miss Glyndon will break the sad news to my mother, and she will be looking anxiously for me. Can I do anything for you—or”—with a slight hesitation—“for Violet?”

Mrs. Rutledge shook her head.

“I will let you know, my dear boy, if there should be anything for you to do,” she returned. “You will come back soon?”

“I will; to-night or to-morrow morning. And now good-bye.”

He pressed her hand warmly, and mounting his horse, rode swiftly away back to Yorke Towers.

The day passed, and Violet kept her own room. Leonard[Pg 48] did not return that night, and no intelligence came from Yorke Towers.

[Pg 48]

Night came down calm and still, and when everybody had retired to their own rooms, Violet Arleigh stole from her chamber and went softly down-stairs to the drawing-room, where her mother lay sleeping the long, last sleep—never to open her eyes again upon the scenes of this world; never to speak a loving word to her child; 
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