but she would not show it to him then. She
was too angry, too much aggrieved, to admit of any attempts on her part
for a reconciliation; so she put that note with the other, and then went
quietly on arranging her things in their proper places. Then, when this
was done, she sat down by the window and peering out into the wintry
darkness watched the many lights and moving figures in Mrs. Miller's
house, which could be distinctly seen from the hotel. Richard still
intended to take the early train for St. Louis, and so he retired at
last, but Ethelyn sat where she was until the carriages taking the
revelers home had passed, and the lights were out in Mrs. Miller's
windows, and the bell of St. John's had ushered in the second hour of
the fast. Not then did she join her husband, but lay down upon the
sofa, where he found her when at six o'clock he came from his broken,
feverish sleep, to say his parting words. He had contemplated the
propriety of giving up his trip and remaining at home while Frank Van
Buren was in town, but this he could not very well do.

"I will leave her to herself," he thought, "trusting that what has
passed will deter her from any further improprieties."

Something like this he said to her when, in the gray dawn, he stood
before her, equipped for his journey; but Ethelyn did not respond, and
with her cold, dead silence weighing more upon him than bitter
reproaches would have done, Richard left her and took his way through
the chill, snowy morning to the depot, little dreaming as he went of
when and how he and Ethelyn would meet again.

CHAPTER XXI

THE RESULT

The bell in the tower of St. John's pealed forth its summons to the
house of prayer, and one by one, singly or in groups, the worshipers
went up to keep this first solemn day of Lent--true, sincere worshipers,
many of them, who came to weep, and pray, and acknowledge their past
misdeeds; while others came from habit, and because it was the fashion,
their pale, haggard faces and heavy eyes telling plainly of the last
night's dissipation, which had continued till the first hour of the
morning. Mrs. Howard was there, and Mrs. Miller, too, both glancing
inquiringly at Judge Markham's pew and then wonderingly at each other.
Ethelyn was not there. She had breakfast in her room after Richard left,
and when that was over had gone mechanically to her closet and drawers
and commenced sorting her clothes--hanging away the gayest, most
expensive dre