But when, by the way of soothing her, Mrs. Van Buren talked of the

winter in Washington, and the honors which would always be accorded to

her as the wife of an M.C., and then dwelt upon the possibility of her

one day writing herself governor's lady, Ethelyn's girlish ambition was

roused, and her vanity flattered, so that the chances were that even

Frank would have been put aside for the future greatness, had he been

offered to her.

It was five o'clock now, in the afternoon, nearly time for the bridal

toilet to commence, and Mrs. Van Buren began to wonder "why the Judge

had not appeared." He was better of his headache and up and around, the

maid had reported, when at four she brought over the remainder of Mrs.

Captain Markham's silver, which had not been sent in the morning, and

then went back for extra napkins. There was no need to tell Ethelyn that

"he was up and around," for she had known it ever since a certain

shutter had been opened, and a man in his shirt-sleeves had appeared

before the window and thrown water from the wash bowl upon the lilac

bushes below. Ethelyn knew very well that old Mrs. Markham's servants

were spoiled, that her domestic arrangements were not of the best kind,

and that probably there was no receptacle for the dirty water except the

ground; but she did not consider this, or reflect that aside from all

other considerations the act was wholly like a man; she only thought it

like him, Judge Markham, and feelings of shame and mortification, such

as no woman likes to entertain with regard to her husband, began to rise

and swell in her heart. In the excitement of her toilet, however, she

forgot everything, even the ceremony for which she was dressing, and

which came to her with a shiver when a bridesmaid announced that Captain

Markham's carriage had just left his yard with a gentleman in it.

Judge Markham was on his way to his bridal.




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