When he has finished, he looks at her. She understands his glance
but too well. There is an only half-suppressed eagerness--a
half-suppressed hope in it.
"What shall I do?" she says, so quietly that it deceives him.
"There is no better fellow living than Harford," he says cordially. "If
you thought you could be happy with him; if--"
He stops abruptly. There is a look of such terrible agony in Virginia's
face that he starts up and takes her hand.
"No, no," he cries. "Let it be as I said. Let us marry each other. It is
the only thing to be done."
Virginia's ears, sharpened by suffering, catch the dreary tone of the
concluding words.
* * * * *
Next morning, when Philip, according to custom, went to Virginia's room,
he found her asleep. From that sleep she never woke. One more of those
unfortunate cases of an overdose of chloral. The deceased lady had
suffered much from sleeplessness, and always kept the fatal drug by her
bedside.
The church gave its blessing, and society smiled when that heretic and
sceptic Mr. Vansittart led his charming girl-bride to the altar a few
months later. It was whispered that there had been an--entanglement, but
that was all hushed up now, and he had become a respectable member of
society.
MR. JOSIAH SMITH'S BALLOON JOURNEY.
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