“Does it? Watch then!” and catching up her skirts the beautiful woman exposed her well-formed and graceful limb far above the knee clothed in a dainty cream-colored stocking. Lifting her foot to a stool, she bent over and slowly poured the garnet stream down her leg, whence it flowed in a long, irregular line to the floor.
It was a lovely picture, as she stood in her rich dress, staining the purity of her skin with so costly a bath. Thus thought Reginald Gray, who had paused for a moment in the passage beyond the door, and drew back, pale with emotion, as he gazed upon the scene before him.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Kitty, springing forward, and turning her back to the opening, “I never felt such a draught!”
Her skirts flew out beyond her, and the door closed with a bang.
CHAPTER IV.
“OUT FROM THE GOLDEN DAY.”
Yes, Neil Emory was a married man and a man with a scandal, but a scandal so hushed and screened by law and friends as to be almost forgotten.
One day the beautiful woman who bore his name went away from him. You know many such stories. I wish I could make this a new one. Perhaps it is a little different from the hackneyed tales of the dashing lover, who finally deserts his sweetheart, etc., etc., for this woman rose in the brightness of a May morn, dressed herself for traveling, and, with satchel in hand, walked into her husband’s study and told him that she no longer loved him; that, in fact, she never had loved him, nor ever would. It might be she cared for another; and she was going away forever. At the end of a year, she hoped he would divorce her. No! she would listen to nothing he might say. Should he compel her to remain he must bear the consequences. Who was the man? That he should never know. Let her depart in peace, for she knew he did not love her any more than she loved him.
One year and she disappeared. The law crept slowly on—as yet no release. “Would to God it could come another way!” And now that he had again met Gwendoline, did he know that he loved her? If so, why rushed the color to his cheek when the footlights flashed or the yellow dust rose around the flying wheels of Cassandra’s coach?
He well knew he had many rivals. What could he offer either girl or actress, wife or sweetheart? His friend Reginald Gray was one for whom the beautiful dark woman of the boards seemed ever to smile; but “Kitty who laughed” was always on the alert.
One day, as he sped swiftly down the street, a voice hailed him. Turning, he beheld Clovis leaning from her carriage; and when he came up, the slippered foot peeping from the lace of her dress and the blue veil over her face were all he saw of her companion.