ugene has given him the
setting off of a hero, and would like to picture to their wondering
eyes that deadly struggle, but is bound by a sacred promise. They are
horrified, too, by Mr. Wilmarth's sudden death. Violet's heart swells
with pity as she sees the pale, tired face and heavy eyes. She would
like to fly to his arms with infinite sympathy, but he is never very
demonstrative, and now it seems ill-timed. She starts to follow him
up-stairs, but Briggs intercepts her,--cook wants to know something,
and she has to give a few orders. There seems some difficulty about
dessert, and she attends to its arrangement, then the bell rings.

Dinner topics are quite exciting. The Brades come in afterward, and
several of the near friends.

"I must beg to be excused," Floyd says, after smoking a cigar with the
gentlemen. "I am dead tired and half asleep. Good night," softly, with
a little pressure on Violet's arm. Cecil runs for a kiss, and he passes
through the group on the porch. Violet's heart swells and for an
instant she forgets what she is saying. When, three hours afterward,
she steals noiselessly to his room, he is locked in slumber. If she
dared bend and kiss him! If only he _loved_ her!

The excitement does not in any wise die out, but the one incident seems
to offset the other. Mr. Haviland returns to his family, as some time
must elapse before the completion of the matter, but they are to take
full possession on the first of October. Mr. Murray is planning some
kind of a home for Polly that will presently include her husband.
Eugene really blossoms out in a most attractive light. Prosperity and
freedom from care are the elements on which he thrives serenely. He
could never make any fight with circumstances,--not so much from
inability as sheer indolence. For such people some one always cares.
"Life's pure blessings manifold" seem showered upon them, while
worthier souls are left to buffet with adversity.

Marcia is inconsolable, Mrs. Grandon advises a little composure and
common sense, but it is of no avail. Madame comes, with her sweet
philosophy and sweeter voice, and Violet with tears, but nothing rouses
her except the depth of crape on her dress and the quality of her veil.
Grandon Park and Westbrook are shocked by the awful suddenness. There
is always a peculiar awe about an accidental death, and it passes for
an overdose of powerful medicine Mr. Wilmarth was in the habit of
using.

The dead face holds its s