As soon as she was alone with the woman whom her uncle had called his housekeeper, she lost no time in telling the whole story of the cause of her journey.
“My poor sister has been abducted by a villain,” she cried in conclusion, “and there is no one but me to rescue her from him! Oh, if I should be too late, I am sure it would kill me!”
CHAPTER VI.
THE PLOT OF A VILLAIN.
Adele Gray listened intently to the country girl’s story, but not so much as by an expression did she show that she sympathized. She was a woman of twenty-five and would have been exceedingly pretty only that her face was marred by lines of sorrow about her mouth and a coldness in her eyes that was very repelling.
Her gown was of rich materials, and she wore a few expensive jewels; further, every movement which she made was indicative of natural refinement.
The coldness of her manner was something which she had acquired—even to an inexperienced girl like Marion it bespoke a morbid condition.
“I have ordered some dinner for you,” she said, quietly, as Marion finished. “Here it is; you must be hungry after your tiresome journey.” She rose to meet the waiter, who was placing a loaded tray upon the table.
Marion ate her dinner in some perplexity, for every few moments Miss Gray excused herself, and pouring a glass of liquor from a decanter on the table, took it in to her host, who still remained in the parlor.
“Does he always drink like that?” Marion ventured to ask timidly; “for if he does, I am sorry for my poor aunt. She must be wretched indeed to have a drunken husband.”