a hideous dread—a dread that wrapped her away from all little glimpses of happiness and hours of pleasure. When one great passion seizes possession of the soul all other feelings are crowded aside. Never in all her life had Leslie Moore shuddered away from the future with more intolerable terror. But she went forward as unswervingly in the path she had elected as the martyrs of old walked their chosen way, knowing the end of it to be the fiery agony of the stake.
The financial question was settled with greater ease than Anne had feared. Leslie borrowed the necessary money from Captain Jim, and, at her insistence, he took a mortgage on the little farm.
“So that is one thing off the poor girl’s mind,” Miss Cornelia told Anne, “and off mine too. Now, if Dick gets well enough to work again he’ll be able to earn enough to pay the interest on it; and if he doesn’t I know Captain Jim’ll manage someway that Leslie won’t have to. He said as much to me. ‘I’m getting old, Cornelia,’ he said, ‘and I’ve no chick or child of my own. Leslie won’t take a gift from a living man, but mebbe she will from a dead one.’ So it will be all right as far as that goes. I wish everything else might be settled as satisfactorily. As for that wretch of a Dick, he’s been awful these last few days. The devil was in him, believe me! Leslie and I couldn’t get on with our work for the tricks he’d play. He chased all her ducks one day around the yard till most of them died. And not one thing would
