his eyes, and given him a more distinguished bearing and a firmer hand. And Mary Taylor was very happy. So was her brother, only differently; he was making money; he was planning to make more, and he had something to pet which seemed to him extraordinarily precious and valuable.
Taylor eagerly inquired after the cloth, and followed the ladies to Zora‚Äôs room, adjoining Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool‚Äôs, to see it. It lay uncut and shimmering, covered with dim silken tracery of a delicacy and beauty which brought an exclamation to all lips.
“That’s what we can do with Alabama cotton,” cried John Taylor in triumph.
They turned to him incredulously.
‚ÄúBut‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“No ‘buts’ about it; these are the two bales you sent me, woven with a silk woof.” No one particularly noticed that Zora had hastily left the room. “I had it done in Easterly’s New Jersey mills according to an old plan of mine. I’m going to make cloth like that right in this county some day,” and he chuckled gayly.
But Zora was striding up and down the halls, the blood surging in her ears. After they were gone she came back and closed the doors. She dropped on her knees and buried her face in the filmy folds of the Silver Fleece.
“I knew it! I knew it!” she whispered in mingled tears and joy. “It called and I did not understand.”
It was her talisman newfound; her love come back, her stolen dream come true. Now she could face the world; God had turned it straight again. She would go into the world and find‚ÅÝ‚Äînot Love, but the