After he had gone the Lady Van Tyne returned again to her mirror and took a long survey of herself in the polished glass, but some way the reflection of her person was not as pleasing as it had been an hour before and she jerked the lace awkwardly about her throat, while wrinkles hitherto unnoticed crept stealthily about her eyes and the wave of fine grey hair upon her brow looked singularly old and unbecoming. She had not deceived herself by her apparent calmness of demeanor during the physician's strange entreaty, and now that she was alone her courage forsook her entirely and she sank heavily upon the sofa in a paroxysm of fear and trembling while she felt the foundations of her respectability shaking beneath her feet and pictured her humiliating position if the truth should ever be revealed. Not a thought of her son's surroundings entered her mind, and, as she finally controlled herself for the evening's pleasure, a prayer for her own protection was the one vague sentiment of her selfish, worldly heart.
It was late that night before Dr. Seward retired to his private office for an hour with his books and drugs, for he had extended his ride after leaving Lady Van Tyne's residence and called upon his friend at the hospital across the bridge. Here his scientific curiosity returned and he again became possessor of the little vial of brownish powder. That night in the privacy of his professional den, he again investigated the mysterious contents.
Over and over again the breakfast bell was rung in the early morning, but not until the household was thoroughly alarmed at his continued absence, did any one think to try the handle of the office door. There they found him, cold and breathless upon the well worn sofa, while by his side upon the carpet was a curious shaped vial, empty, and bearing on one side a label whereupon was written in Dr. Seward's own handwriting, the extraordinary warning, "Death to the Inquisitive."
CHAPTER XXXV. STELLA AND ELIZABETH.
How pure the passion of a woman's love—
How innocent the heart that bleeds;
The wretch is worshiped like the saints above
In spite of weaknesses and guilty deeds.