Mary Roberts Rinehart

“ Let him meet Walter on the way. So much the better. Let Huff know that Ward was out, and the offering presumably unguarded. He might hate the man, but no hope of a running fight with him would deter him from his main object, the money.
To save Ward, she was willing, even anxious, to let Walter succeed.
Women sometimes meet large crises with small vanities. But Elinor had no vanity. Without so much as a glance at the mirror she went out into the garden to listen for Ward's step on the road. She knew his walk already; the forceful, certain step of an energetic and purposeful man. ”

“ Then, glancing at her with keen eyes, he was struck by her pallor.
"You to ask me if I am tired!" he cried. "Why, you poor child, it is you who are worn out. Wouldn't it be better to have me come tomorrow and go over the things you—spoke about?"
"I think we had better talk about them now," said Elinor, desperately calm.
At a quarter before eleven that Sunday night, old Henriette, bent on her evening tusk of sending Elinor to bed, wandered into the library. She found Ward, his earnest face glowing, expounding the tenets of his faith from the edge of his chair ”

“ What was she doing? She, her father's daughter, the head of the band! By warning Ward she might be sending Walter to his death. A vision of old Hilary, gray-headed, keen-eyed, at this very telephone, flashed into her mind, old Hilary, whose religion had been of keeping the faith, not with his God. but with his men.
"Who are you?" The impatient voice was saying in her ears. "Are you sure you want me? This is Ward, of Saint Jude's."
Elinor quietly hung up the telephone transmitter, and stood in the darkness, her hands to her throat.
Old Henriette, ever watchful, came into the library beyond. ”