Vivian turned and followed them. That was the beginning of the tragedy that darkened three lives.
[CHAPTER XL.]
Slowly Ida and Arthur Hollis walked together over the beautiful green lawn, Vivian Deane creeping like the shadow of fate after them.
Arthur seated Ida in her favorite nook on the mossy stone. For a moment neither of them spoke; then he suddenly caught her little hand in his. Ida did not know why she trembled, why her hand grew cold in his clasp.
There was not a cloud in the blue sky overhead. The cool, sweet breeze shook the rose leaves and scattered them on the grass; the leaves of the oak-trees stirred on the great boughs. A calm, sweet and solemn in its beauty, stole over them.
"Ida," he whispered, hoarsely, "did ever a great pity fill your heart for any one? If so, let pity fill it now for me, for I am in need of it."
"Why?" she asked, looking wonderingly up at him.
"How I shall look back to this hour when I am gone!" he said, brokenly.