Page:Keeping the Peace.pdf/295

 He hated her. He wrote to Anne that he had painted a portrait of an old friend of his mother's and that as soon as he had received the money he would sail for France. He sailed without the money. No love, no money. The rich Mrs. Ludlow never did pay for her portrait.

One afternoon found Edward alone in the rectory. His father and his Dear Mother had gone to pay a round of parish calls. He thought that it would be a good opportunity to sneak off to New Rochelle and see Alice Ruggles. The walk would do him good. He went to his room to change his shoes, and when he had changed them and was coming down the stairs the parlormaid had just answered a ring at the front door. And the clear boyish voice which Edward heard asking if Mr. James were at home was the voice of Alice Ruggles herself.

"Mr. James is in the city."

"But I'm here, Alice," cried Edward, and he descended the remaining steps in two jumps.

The pallor of Alice's face and the woe in her eyes was like a blow to him. He simply stood and stared at her.

The left them.

"Is it true that James is married?"

"Yes, Alice, it is true. Come into the parlor and sit down. You look sick."