Part 17 (2/2)

Emil Correlli quailed beneath the righteous indignation expressed in her flas.h.i.+ng glance; his eyes drooped, and conscious guilt was shown in his very att.i.tude.

”Forgive me--I loved you so,” he stammered, and--she was answered.

She threw out her hands in a gesture of repudiation and horror; she flashed one withering, horrified look into his face, then, with a moan of anguish, she swayed like a reed broken by the tempest, and would have fallen to the floor in her spotless robes had not Gerald G.o.ddard caught her senseless form in his arms, and, lifting her by main strength, he bore her from the room and upstairs to her own chamber.

CHAPTER XIV.

”YOUR FAITHLESSNESS TURNED ME INTO A DEMON.”

Emil Correlli followed Mr. G.o.ddard and his unconscious burden, looking like anything but a happy bridegroom.

He had expected that Edith would weep and rave upon discovering the trap into which she had been lured; but he had not expected that the revelation would smite her with such terrible force, laying her like one dead at his feet, as it had done, and he was thoroughly alarmed.

When Mr. G.o.ddard reached the girl's room he laid her upon her bed, and then sent one of the servants for the housekeeper. But Mrs. Weld could not be found, so another maid was called, and Edith was gradually restored to consciousness.

But the moment her glance fell upon Emil Correlli, who insisted upon remaining in the room, and she realized what had occurred, she relapsed into another swoon, so deathlike and prolonged that a physician, who happened to be among the guests, was summoned from the ball-room to attend her.

He excluded every one but the maids from the room, when he ordered his patient to be undressed and put into bed, and after long and unwearied efforts, she was again revived, when she became so unnerved and hysterical that the physician, becoming alarmed, was about to give her a powerful opiate, when she sank into a third fainting fit.

Meanwhile, in the ball-room below, gayety was at its height. There had been a little stir and commotion when it was learned that Edith had fainted; but the matter was pa.s.sed over with a few well-bred comments of regret, and then forgotten for the time. But as soon as she could do so without being observed, madam stole from the place and went into the house to ascertain how the girl was.

She was, of course, aware of the cause of the swoon, and, as may be readily imagined, was in no comfortable frame of mind. She was met at the head of the second flight of stairs by her husband, whose face was grave and stern.

”How is she?” madam inquired.

”In a very critical condition; Dr. Arthur says she is liable to have brain fever,” he tersely replied.

”Brain fever!” exclaimed his wife, in a startled tone. ”Surely, she cannot be as bad as that!”

”Woman, what have you done?” the man demanded, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

”How have you dared to plot and carry out the dastardly deed that you have perpetrated this night?”

Anna G.o.ddard's eyes began to blaze defiance.

”That is neither the tone nor the manner you should employ in addressing me, Gerald, as you very well know,” she retorted, with colorless lips.

”Have done with your tragic airs, madam,” he cried, laying a heavy hand upon her arm. ”I have had enough of them. I ask you again, how have you dared to commit this crime?”

”Crime?” she repeated, with a start, but flas.h.i.+ng him a glance that made him wince as she shook herself free from his grasp. ”You use a harsh term, Gerald; but if you desire a reason for what has occurred to-night, I can give you two.”

”Name them,” her companion curtly demanded.

”First and foremost, then--to protect myself.”

”To protect yourself--from what?”

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