With a weary movement Cora leaned her head against the bolstered back of her chair. Imelda saw that her sister was exhausted. Reproaching herself for having permitted her patient to do so much talking she gave the order, “Not one more word!” and helping her to disrobe she gently assisted her back to her couch. With a new tenderness she arranged the pillows and then insisted upon perfect quiet.
“Tomorrow will be another day, and time enough to proceed.”
Cora did not protest, and soon the weary eyes were closed in slumber. Long did Imelda watch the sleeping girl while she was conscious of a new feeling toward this erstwhile wayward sister. Her heart went out to her as it had never done before, and henceforward she knew she would not be quite alone in the world as she had been. She felt that she had now found her sister, in more senses than one.
Just here it might not be out of place to make mention of that other pair of sisters to whom these two were at the present time under such heavy obligations. It had seemed rather queer to Imelda that the two should be all alone in this large house, as she had understood from what Wilbur had told her that the sisters lived in the home of their father who with the second wife had quite a family of children, but of whom there was not a trace to be seen. Only a day or two ago, however, Edith had explained to Imelda how matters stood.
CHAPTER XXXII.
From this explanation it was evident that neither of the two elder daughters had any too much love for the stepmother, who was domineering in character. Of late years the freedom-loving Edith had refused to submit to her many dictations. She absolutely refused in any manner to be a subordinate. When Hilda found her sister making such a brave effort to free herself from the domination of the stepmother she was not long in following her example. The stepmother appealed to the father, who in turn ordered his daughters to explain.
Edith did explain. She said that Hilda and herself were now old enough to judge for themselves in all personal matters. They demanded freedom in all their actions. If it were refused them at home they would seek a home elsewhere. With youth and health they were confident they would not starve.
But Edmund Wallace was a proud man. After the disastrous ending of his first marriage, with the second wife, brilliant and fashionable, at his side,—a woman who seemed better to understand how to manage her husband than did the timid Erna before her, Mr. Wallace had been more successful financially. Dabbling in politics he had secured to himself political and social position and hence the idea that his daughters should leave his house to find a home elsewhere was not at all to his liking. Such a thing would draw attention, and cause unpleasant notoriety. So, for once, he sided with his daughters and gave his wife to understand that they were at liberty in all personal matters to do as they pleased.
The haughty woman was almost strangled in her anger, but found herself forced to submit. But if she could no longer domineer there were a thousand other ways in which she could make the lives of the girls a daily torture. The result was that Edith again turned to her father, telling him that under existing circumstances they could not and would not longer remain. So another and more decided change was made. A room was assigned to Edith and Hilda as their “sanctum.” Through the political influence of the father positions were secured for both girls, which furnished them with pocket money to spend as they saw fit. The salary of each was sixty dollars per month, twenty of which each contributed toward keeping up the establishment. This arrangement made them independent, and from the day it was made both refused to take part in the household duties. Mrs. Wallace had to procure hired help. Then it was she came to realize the full value of these despised stepdaughters. But as she considered it beneath her dignity to unbend towards the girls there was a constant frigidity between them.