A wedding was evidently afoot, for hall and
staircase blazed with light and bloomed with flowers. Smiling men
and maids ran to and fro; opening doors showed tables beautiful with
bridal white and silver; savory odors filled the air; gay voices
echoed above and below; and once she caught a brief glance at the
bonny bride, standing with her father's arm about her, while her
mother gave some last, loving touch to her array; and a group of
young sisters with April faces clustered round her.
The pretty picture vanished all too soon; the man returned with a
hurried "No" for answer, and Christie went out into the deepening
twilight with a strange sense of desperation at her heart. It was
not the refusal, not the fear of want, nor the reaction of overtaxed
nerves alone; it was the sharpness of the contrast between that
other woman's fate and her own that made her wring her hands
together, and cry out, bitterly:
"Oh, it isn't fair, it isn't right, that she should have so much and
I so little! What have I ever done to be so desolate and miserable,
and never to find any happiness, however hard I try to do what seems
my duty?"
There was no answer, and she went slowly down the long avenue,
feeling that there was no cause for hurry now, and even night and
rain and wind were better than her lonely room or Mrs.
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