After the Storm

"The driver knows his route, I presume," was answered.

"This is not the way, I am sure," said Mrs. Emerson, a slight quiver

of alarm in her voice.

"Our drivers know the shortest cuts," replied the major, "and these

do not always lead through the most attractive quarters of the

town."

Mrs. Emerson shrunk back again in her seat and was silent. Her heart

was throbbing with a vague fear. Suddenly the carriage stopped and

the driver alighted.

"This is not my home," said Mrs. Emerson, as the driver opened the

door, and the major stepped out upon the pavement.

"Oh, yes. This is No. 240 L----street. Yes, ma'am," added the

driver, "this is the number that the gentleman told me."

"What gentleman?" asked Mrs. Emerson.

"This gentleman, if you please, ma'am."

"Drive me home instantly, or this may cost you dear!" said Mrs.

Emerson, in as stern a voice as surprise and fear would permit her

to assume.

"Madam--" Major Willard commenced speaking.

"Silence, sir! Shut the door, driver, and take me home instantly!"

The major made a movement as if he were about to enter the carriage,

when Mrs. Emerson said, in a low, steady, threatening voice-"At your peril, remain outside! Driver, shut the door. If you permit

that man to enter, my husband will hold you to a strict account."

"Stand back!" exclaimed the driver, in a resolute voice.

But the major was not to be put off in this way. He did not move

from the open door of the carriage. In the next moment the driver's

vigorous arm had hurled him across the pavement. The door was shut,

the box mounted and the carriage whirled away, before the astonished

man could rise, half stunned, from the place where he fell. A few

low, bitter, impotent curses fell from his lips, and then he walked

slowly away, muttering threats of vengeance.

It was nearly twelve o'clock when Irene reached home.

"You are late," said her husband, as she came in.

"Yes," she replied, "later than I intended."

"What's the matter?" he inquired, looking at her narrowly.

"Why do you ask?" She tried to put on an air of indifference.

"You look pale and your voice is disturbed."

"The driver went through parts of the town in returning that made me

feel nervous, as I thought of my lonely and unprotected situation."

"Why did he do that?"

"It wasn't to make the way shorter, for the directest route would

have brought me home ten minutes ago. I declare! The fellow's

conduct made me right nervous. I thought a dozen improbable things."

"It is the last time I will employ him," said Hartley. "How dare he

go a single block away from a direct course, at this late hour?" He

spoke with rising indignation.