CHAPTER XXI.
THE RESULT The bell in the tower of St.John's pealed forth its summons to the house of prayer, and one by one, singly or in groups, the worshipers went up to keep this first solemn day of Lent--true, sincere worshipers, many of them, who came to weep, and pray, and acknowledge their past misdeeds; while others came from habit, and because it was the fashion, their pale, haggard faces and heavy eyes telling plainly of the last night's dissipation, which had continued till the first hour of the morning.

Mrs.Howard was there, and Mrs.Miller, too, both glancing inquiringly at Judge Markham's pew and then wonderingly at each other.
Ethelyn was not there.

She had breakfast in her room after Richard left, and when that was over had gone mechanically to her closet and drawers and commenced sorting her clothes--hanging away the gayest, most expensive dresses, and laying across chairs and upon the bed the more serviceable ones, such as might properly be worn on ordinary occasions.
Why she did this she had not yet clearly defined, and when, after her wardrobe was divided, and she brought out the heavy traveling trunk, made for her in Boston, she was not quite certain what she meant to do.
She had been sorely wounded, and, as she thought, without just cause.
She knew she was to blame for not having told Richard of Frank before she became his wife, but of the things with which he had so severely charged her she was guiltless, and every nerve quivered and throbbed with passion and resentment as she recalled the scene of the previous night, going over again with the cruel words Richard had uttered in his jealous anger, and then burning with shame and indignation as she thought of being locked in her room, and kept from attending the masquerade, where her absence must have excited so much wonder.
"What did they say, and what can I tell them when we meet ?" she thought, just as Mrs.Howard's voice was heard in the upper hall.
Church was out, and several of the more intimate of Ethie's friends had stopped at the Stafford House to inquire into so strange a proceeding.
"Come to see if you were sick, or what, that you disappointed me so.

I was vexed enough, I assure you," Mrs.Miller said, looking curiously enough at Ethelyn, whose face was white as ashes, save where a crimson spot burned on her cheeks, and whose lips were firmly pressed together.
She did not know what to say, and when pressed to give a reason stammered out: "Judge Markham wished me to stay with him, and as an obedient wife I stayed." With ready tact the ladies saw that something was wrong, and kindly forbore further remarks, except to tell what a grand affair it was, and how much she was missed.

But Ethie detected in their manner an unspoken sympathy or pity, which exasperated and humiliated her more than open words would have done.