It was that of her
husband. She tore it open with trembling hand and read:
"DEAR EDITH: An order requiring my presence in Washington to-morrow
morning has just reached me, and I have only time to make the train.
I shall be gone two or three days."
The deep flush which excitement had spread over the face of Mrs.
Abercrombie faded off, and the deadly pallor returned. Her hands
shook so that the letter dropped out of them and fell to the floor.
Another groan as of a breaking heart sobbed through her lips as she
threw herself in despairing abandonment across the bed and buried
her face deep among the pillows.
She needed no interpreter to unfold the true meaning of that letter.
Its unsteady and blotted words and its scrawled, uncertain signature
told her too well of her husband's sad condition. His old enemy had
stricken him down, his old strong, implacable enemy, always armed,
always lying in wait for him, and always ready for the unguarded
moment.
CHAPTER XV.
DOCTOR HILLHOUSE was in his office one morning when a gentleman
named Carlton, in whose family he had practiced for two or three
years, came in. This was a few weeks before the party at Mr.
Birtwell's.
"Doctor"--there was a troubled look on his visitor's face--"I wish
you would call in to-day and examine a lump on Mrs. Carlton's neck.
It's been coming for two or three months. We thought it only the
swelling of a gland at first, and expected it to go away in a little
while.
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