Marion Arleigh's Penance / Everyday Life Library No. 5

to cloud over the deep blue of the sapphire sky. There is not one breath of wind to stir the

r, there is a cooling breeze; but here in London on this bright June afternoon there is nothing to lessen the white, intense heat, and even the flowers exposed for sale in the streets are drooping, the crimson rose

rs are hurrying to and fro. The quarter-past three train is a great favorite-more people travel by that than by any other-and the platform is crowded by ladies, children, tourists, commercial gentlemen. There are very few of the h

she entered the station the change from the blinding glare outside to the shade within seemed to bewilder her. She stood for a few moments pe

re for her. She went with the same noiseless step to the booking office. Most of the passengers had

sked, for she had only

peated. "Where doe

p at Chester

took the ticket and he gave her the change. She swept it into her purse with an absent, preoccupied

ed. "If I had said the train would stop at Liliput, in my

had gone on to the platform. With the same appearance

her seat in the corner, drew her veil still more

and death depended upon its speed. On, on, past the green meadows, where the hedgerows were filled with woodbines and wild roses, and the clover filled the air with fragrance; past gray old churches whose tapering spires pointed to heaven; past quiet homesteads sleeping in the sunshine; past silent, quaint vill

thoughts were all despairing: Once a lady addressed her, but she never heard the words. Silent, mute, and mot

heir shelter in the leafy trees and began to sing; the flowers yielded their loveliest perfumes

topped, and the sudden cessation from all sound made her

we passed Crew

s like no other sound-no human sound; it was a faint gasp, as of one who h

stopping for water, I should imagine. This is supposed to be one of

re, behind the woods, a little village lay stre

ere," she said, in t

something strange about her; let her go." A gentleman called the guard, and the woman

she left the carriage. Those who remained behind breathed more freely after sh

to the green fields, where the golden silence of summer reigned. She wal

like one who had suffered from a deadly pain without daring to murmur-one loud cry, and, from the sound of it, it was easy to tell that it came from a broken heart. She b

the shadows of evening were falling. It was still bright a

reached the quiet little street at last. She looked at the windows of the houses, but the notice she wanted to see was not in any of them. At

to let." She knocked at the door, which wa

t?" said the faint, l

as to terms, etc., and the

ur luggage?" asked the

ing like a doubtful expression on the kindly face, s

e led the way to a pretty little parlor

open the door of a pretty white chamber. "A

"I will ask when I want anything; for

mmediately locked the door. Then she t

afe. Oh, if my wretched life be wor

bs shook her whole frame; from her white lips came a low moan that betokened anguish too great for words. Then, when the passion of grief had

great world knew her it had been accustomed to say that her figure resembled that of the celebr

s of the dark hue of the violets, with long fringes that rested on a cheek perfect in shape and color; brows straight, like

over her whole figure and face that indescribable something which t

nd slender. There is no attribute of woman

ped in as she opened it. The night-wind was heavy with the perfume of the sleeping flowers, the

ty on me, and before I realize

hough she sat there from sunset until the early dawn

rising from the depths of her despairing heart,