"Come forward, my dear girl. I wish to present my new companion to my son and his bride."
CHAPTER XLVI.
Bernardine stood still. She could not have moved one step forward if her life depended on it; and thinking she had not heard, the old lady turned to her, and repeated:
"I want my son and his wife to know you, my dear. You have been but a short time beneath this roof, but in that time you have made yourself so indispensable to me that I could not do without you."
Both Jay Gardiner and his wife glanced carelessly in the direction indicated by his mother.
The room was in such dense shadow that they only saw a tall, slim form in a dark dress that seemed to melt into and become a part of the darkness beyond.
They bowed slightly in the most thoughtless manner; then turned their attention to Mrs. Gardiner, who had commenced telling them how eagerly she had watched for their coming, and of the strange presentiment that something was going to happen.
That moment stood out forever afterward in the life of hapless Bernardine.
She thought that when her eyes rested on the face that had been all the world to her, she would fall dead at his feet. But she did not; nor did the slightest moan or cry escape her white lips.
She had expected that Jay Gardiner would cry out in wonder or in anger when he saw her; that he would recognize her with some show of emotion. But he only looked at her, and then turned as carelessly away as any stranger might have done. And in that moment, as she stood there, the very bitterness of death passed over her.