out on his forehead.
"Mrs. Brympton has fainted, sir," said I.
He laughed unsteadily and pushed by me. "It's a pity she didn't choose
a more convenient moment. I'm sorry to disturb her, but--"
I raised myself up, aghast at the man's action.
"Sir," said I, "are you mad? What are you doing?"
"Going to meet a friend," said he, and seemed to make for the
dressing-room.
At that my heart turned over. I don't know what I thought or feared;
but I sprang up and caught him by the sleeve.
"Sir, sir," said I, "for pity's sake look at your wife!"
He shook me off furiously.
"It seems that's done for me," says he, and caught hold of the
dressing-room door.
At that moment I heard a slight noise inside. Slight as it was, he
heard it too, and tore the door open; but as he did so he dropped back.
On the threshold stood Emma Saxon. All was dark behind her, but I saw
her plainly, and so did he. He threw up his hands as if to hide his
face from her; and when I looked again she was gone.
He stood motionless, as if the strength had run out of him; and in the
stillness my mistress suddenly raised herself, and opening her eyes
fixed a look on him. Then she fell back, and I saw the death-flutter
pass over her....
We buried her on the third day, in a driving snow-storm. There were few
people in the church, for it was bad weather to come from town, and
I've a notion my mistress was one that hadn't many near friends. Mr.
Ranford was among the last to come, just before they carried her up the
aisle. He was in black, of course, being such a friend of the family,
and I never saw a gentleman so pale. As he passed me, I noticed that he
leaned a trifle on a stick he carried; and I fancy Mr. Brympton noticed
it too, for the red spot came out sharp on his forehead, and all
through the service he kept staring across the church at Mr. Ranford,
instead of following the prayers as a mourner should.
When it was over and we went out to the graveyard, Mr. Ranford had
disappeared, and as soon as my poor mistress's body was underground,
Mr. Brympton jumped into the carriage nearest the gate and drove off
without a word to any of us. I heard him call out, "To the station,"
and we servants went back alone to the house.
THE MISSION OF JANE
I
LETHBURY, surveying his wife across the dinner table, found his
transient conjugal glance arrested by an indefinable change in her
appearance.
"How smart you look! Is that a new gown?
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