“Why, the message has been delayed. A common occurrence in these country towns. They have neglected to send it to me here at The Oaks. Yet—yet I have thus gained a few hours’ respite. Let me see. The message is dated yesterday,” she went on, carefully examining it once more. “Good heavens! he will be here this very night! May Heaven have mercy, and help me to be brave!” [Pg 14] One! chimed from the little gilded clock upon the marble mantel of the pretty room—two! three! Rosamond Arleigh clasped her hands, and her eyes were riveted upon the time-piece. Four! five, six! Her breath came thick and fast; her form trembled like an aspen. Seven! eight! nine! ten! eleven! Twelve! Before the last stroke had fairly died away into silence there was a faint rap at the door of the room. A moment’s pause, during which her white lips moved as though in prayer, and then, pale as a statue, Rosamond Arleigh made her way unsteadily over to the door and threw it open. [Pg 15] [Pg 15] CHAPTER II. There was a brief pause, a silence during which you could hear distinctly the great strangling heart-throbs of the woman who stood staring blankly into the face of her unwelcome visitor. Below-stairs the revelry went on; the patter of light feet upon the polished floor of the ball-room; the gay peals of merry laughter; and over all the wailing notes of the music, with its tender, pleading, and wordless entreaty, as the band played “Love’s Young Dream.” Rosamond Arleigh started, and one white hand went to her heart, pressing against it with a passionate gesture. She bowed coldly. “So it is you, Mr. Warrington?” with affected indifference. “Come in.” “Yes; it is I. Whom else should it be?” retorted the intruder, and a tall, dark figure crossed the threshold, closed the door and locked it carefully. “I am exceedingly punctual,” he went on, coolly, as he sunk uninvited into a seat. “It is a rule of mine never to keep any one, and more especially a lady, waiting. Why, Rosamond, my dear, you look ‘all broke up.’ What is the matter with you?” [Pg 16] [Pg 16] Rosamond Arleigh frowned.
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