Nobody's Child

m. And yet he did not catch up with her until after she had reached the group of men and horses. When he came up they had just parted, fo

as near enough to hear Edward's more distinct answer to Judith'

ned?" Baird ask

ard's arm. He was answered by a curious silence, a portentous silen

horse, Mr. Baird," she

affected Baird queerly. They stood together as if they hid something infinitely painful from him that the light of the lantern failed to reveal; something that hurt and shamed

d of everything but assumed relief: "That was wha

d the others-have gone," Edward answered, hi

k, Edward. There is nothing we can do." She still had her hand on his arm, and she turned w

nin' to be out in, though, Mr. Baird-like May, suh. You'll not know Westmo' by the middle of next week-the trees and the lilacs se

ly hearty voice failed him sadly, and Baird hoped that he had played the part he had instinctively chosen better than the colonel was playing his. And at the same

n looking forward to spring here. I suppo

ation fo' others, though we are not g

lowest step a huddled heap had got to its feet, a big negress whose black

you doing here?" Her voice was

go fo' to do it-" th

"Go up-stairs and

nd the light from the hall shone on her, Baird saw her face distinctly, immobile as a death-mask, but with restless eyes glancing at the ballroom, which was lighted but sile

She was clinging to her daughter, her face chalk-white and her eyes terror-stricken

nning. "Take her up-stairs, Ridley. She's frightened at all this galloping about, and no wonder." Then dropping Edward's arm she went st

is hungry-I am-and we can't get Garvin's horse back by staring after i

inful thing, whatever it was, must be kept. They could not gather together in grief or sympathy or council-he was t

ncing the painful embarrassment of a guest whose absence was earnestly, even tragically desired, but whose depar

them a few moments in which to remove their masks, in whic

ed steadily and courteously, "Very well, Baird-it's what I must do in a mo

aird said,

s serious, whatever it is." His brain had already traversed several possibilities. Had Garvin suddenly gone mad? Or committed murder?... Or had his

sort if he couldn't play his part also.... Baird judged that he had given them time en

rd, and again Baird sat by Judith. The younger people were silent; there was a hushed strained air about them, but their elders covered their silence. The beautiful old mahogany table, bared now of linen, had been made smaller to hide vacancies, br

ball back and forth. She did not let it rest for a moment. A change had come over her; there was a vivid spot in either cheek and her eyes were shining-nerves strained to breaking point, Bair

d with the full consciousness that Priscilla Copeley was looking wanly at food she could not touch; that Edward's ear, inclined as if listening to him, was bent to catch every sound from without; that Judith's restless

ently maintained, and the moment had arrived when the party could break up. He said good

the family spirit was alive. "No, indeed," she returned through colo

ed her "for one of the pleasantest and most interes

were wonderful at supper." For the moment there w

; he felt almost certain they had not. He took her

's face. "Sleep well-" she s

lay down fully dressed. He also was waiting and listening; he would sleep a

and then carefully silenced movements on the stairs, and the steady ticking of the clock in the hall. Baird had already thought of every

and went to the window. He could not see the stables, the kitchen wing of the house shut them off, but he

n so close to the house that the veranda roof hid them. They passed along, moving slowly, to the

e very clearly, but the group kept together in a fash

tay where he wa