ie.

"I won't," replied Tom, "nor a Betty, nor any other atrocity; only just
come in, like a duck."

Elsie allowed herself to be persuaded for once, and they went into the
house, seating themselves at the piano in the solitary music-room,
enjoying the hour after their own fashion, with no apparent perception
of the shadows which lay upon the hearts of the husband and wife in that
darkened home.

Some time after Elsie had gone, Mellen returned to his wife's chamber.
She lay with one hand partially over her face, but was watching him all
the while; there was an eager expression in her eyes, as if she longed
to have him go away, but was afraid to express the wish.

"Do you feel sleepy, Bessie?" he asked.

"I think so," she replied; "don't let me keep you shut up here any
longer--go down and play chess with Elsie."

"You will come down after you are rested?"

"Oh, certainly; I will be down to tea."

He kissed her and turned to leave the room.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, huskily.

"I have some letters to write; I shall go to the library in order to do
it in peace--Elsie is certain not to come there."

"Good-bye," said Elizabeth, speaking with hysterical sharpness, which
jarred a little on Mellen's quick ear.

CHAPTER XLIV.

ALMOST DEFIANCE.

He was gone and the door closed; Elizabeth raised herself on her elbow
and remained listening till the sound of his steps died upon the stairs,
then she threw aside the shawls he had flung over her, and sprang to her
feet.

"Not a day's rest," she exclaimed, "not an hour's--not one! I must go
out and answer the demands of this villain. If Grantley should meet
me--I don't care--I must have it out! I shall go mad in the end--I shall
go mad!"

She wrung her hands in a sort of fury, and paced up and down the room
with quick, impatient steps.

"I might go now," she said at length; "he is in the library--it is
growing dark, too."

She stopped before one of the windows and looked out; the afternoon was
darkening under the mustering clouds and a heavy mist that had swept up
from the ocean.

"Coming nearer and nearer," muttered Elizabeth, pointing to the waving
columns of fog as if she were addressing some unseen person; "just so
the danger and the darkness gather closer and closer about my life!"

She turned away, urged forward by the courage with which a brave person
is impelled to meet a difficulty at once, threw a shawl about her and
left the ro