it
might be a valet; and at all events he was not going to cross Fox River
till he reached it, when he might find a bridge across it.

But Frank's reasoning did not console his wife, whose hysterical fit was
succeeded by a racking headache, which by night was almost unbearable.
Strong coffee, aconite, brandy, and belladonna, were all tried without
effect. Nothing helped her until she commenced her toilet, when in the
excitement of dressing she partly forgot her disquietude, and the pain
in her head grew leas. Still she was conscious of a feeling of
wretchedness and regret as she sat in her handsome boudoir and felt that
it might be for the last time--that on the morrow another would be
mistress where she had reigned so long.

It was known in the house that Arthur was expected, and some one with
him, but no hint had been given of a wife, and Mrs. Tracy had ordered
separate rooms prepared for the strangers, who were to arrive on the
half-past ten train. How she should manage to keep up and appear natural
until that time Mrs. Tracy did not know, and her face and eyes wore an
anxious, frightened look, which all her finery could not hide. And still
she was really very handsome and striking in her dress of peach blow
satin, and the bare arms which had once been more familiar with
soap-suds and dishwater than lace and gold bracelets, looked very fair
and girlish when at last she descended to the drawing-room and stood
waiting for the first ring which would open the party.

CHAPTER VI.

THE COTTAGE IN THE LANE.

It was called thus because it stood at the end of a broad, grassy avenue
or lane, which led from the park to the entrance of the grounds of
Collingwood, whose chimneys and gables were distinctly visible in the
winter when the trees were stripped of their foliage. At the time when
Mrs. Crawford took possession of it its color was red, but the storms
and rains of eleven summers and winters had washed nearly all the red
away; and as Mrs. Crawford had never had the money to spare for its
repainting, it would have presented a brown and dingy appearance
outwardly, but for the luxurious woodbine, which she had trained with so
much care and skill that it covered nearly three sides of the cottage,
and made a gorgeous display in the autumn, when the leaves had turned a
bright scarlet.

Thanks to the thoughtfulness of Arthur Tracy, the cottage was furnished
comfortably and even prettily when Mrs. Crawford entered i