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Eugene Hautville had chafed. Dorothy also, with her feminine desire for all minor details of happiness, was aggrieved that she could never now appear before the public gaze in all the splendor of her wedding-gear. But Parson Fair stood firm for once, and would have it so.
"Yes, sir," she replied; and she took a dish from the table and turned about, and went again into the pantry, carrying it. David Hautville, rearing his great height before the fire, casting a long shadow over the room, stood, holding his unlighted pipe, and staring again at the wedding-silk, until his daughter returned. Then he brought his gaze to bear upon her again.
Pull her out of a warm bed such a night as this! If you try to take that poor child out to-night I'll stand in my spare-chamber door, and you'll have to walk over me to do it and my son won't see his mother hurt, I guess!" Jim Otis stepped closer to the sleigh and spoke to Eugene Hautville in a low voice. "Well," said Eugene, slowly, "maybe you're right, Otis.
She had married late in life, having been previously a preceptress in a young ladies' school. She was still the example of her own precepts all outward decorum if not inward composure. Madelon Hautville, opposite her, in her snow-powdered cloak, with her face like a flash of white fire in her snow-powdered silk hood, seemed in comparison a female of another and an older race.
Burr did not notice when into this voice of the wind and this noise as of a crowd of softly scurrying ghosts there came a crisp rustle of muslin and a quick footstep up the lane. He only looked up when Madelon Hautville stopped before him and looked at him with incredulous alarm, as if she could not believe the evidence of her own eyes.
His father made a bound after him and grasped his arm. "What do you mean?" he cried out. "What do you think they've run away for?" "Know as much as I do," replied Abner. He wrenched his arm away and strode on towards the house. Then David Hautville and his son Eugene stood looking at each other with a surmise of horror growing in their eyes. "What does he mean?" David whispered, hoarsely.
"Where is my daughter?" he demanded, standing at Lot's bedside in his great fur coat, all bristling with points of snow. "She'll be back presently," answered Lot. His voice was a little stronger; there were two red spots on his cheeks. "Where's she gone?" "For the doctor." All at once David Hautville gave a great start. "Why, you're talking!" he cried out. "You couldn't speak."
Then the dearest wish of her heart was to see her son, the heir to Ulverston, marry Marion Hautville, one of the loveliest girls and wealthiest heiresses in England. She was far too wise ever to express such a wish openly, none the less it was deeply engraven on her heart.
Then she screamed faintly, for Eugene Hautville strode back into the room with a look on his face which she had never seen before. He snatched the silk out of Madelon's hand and thrust it roughly into Dorothy's. "Take it home," he said. "My sister does no work on your wedding-clothes!"
When he reached the turn which he knew led to the Hautville house he drew rein, and sat pondering in his sleigh for a few minutes. He was in doubt whether he should inform Eugene Hautville of his sister's whereabouts or not. Finally he spoke to the mare, and continued on his way to Kingston. The terraces which Madelon mounted were all covered with the gathering snow.
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