The Valley Of The Shadow, by 
Josephine Daskam 
 
Project Gutenberg's In The Valley Of The Shadow, by Josephine 
Daskam This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and 
with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away 
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included 
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org 
Title: In The Valley Of The Shadow 
Author: Josephine Daskam 
Release Date: November 6, 2007 [EBook #23365] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE 
VALLEY OF THE SHADOW *** 
 
Produced by David Widger 
 
IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 
By Josephine Daskam 
Copyright, 1903, by Charles Scribner's Sons
TO Belden, pacing the library doggedly, the waiting seemed 
interminable, the strain unnecessarily prolonged. A half-hour ago quick 
feet had echoed through the upper halls, windows had opened, doors all 
but slammed, vague whisperings and drawn breaths had hovered 
impalpably about the whole place; but now all was utterly quiet. His 
own regular footfall alone disturbed the unnatural stillness of a large 
house. 
Outside, the delicious October sun poured down through an atmosphere 
of faultless blue. The foliage was thick yet, and the red-and-yellow 
leaves danced heartlessly in the wind. A year ago they had gone on a 
nutting-party, and Clarice had raced with the children and picked up 
more than anybody else. Now--even to think of her brought that faint 
odor of salts-of-lavender and beef-tea that disheartened him so, 
somehow, when he sat by her bed coaxing her into sipping the stuff. 
Some one was coming down the stairs. It was Peter's step--his new one 
since last Friday, when they had all, it seemed, begun to walk and talk 
and breathe a little differently. Belden hurried across the room and 
caught him at the foot of the steps. 
"Well, old man, how goes it?" he demanded, with a determined 
cheerfulness. 
His brother-in-law stared at him emptily. 
"It's to-morrow," he said, gripping the newel-post, "to-morrow 
afternoon. Jameson is coming--they'll do it here. Jameson brings his 
special nurse for the--the operation, but the other one is due at five, and 
you get her just the same. I told Henry to put up the dog-cart. I don't 
know, though--maybe the runabout--no, the tire's loose. Still, it might 
do--" 
"For heaven's sake, Peter, don't bother about it! I'll find a rig. What else 
does he say?" 
"He says there's a good fighting chance--a very good one. He says her 
grit alone--Oh, Belden, what shall we do? What shall we do?"
Peter sat down heavily on the lowest stair. 
"Only last week she was so well--and yet she really wasn't. I suppose 
he knows. But it doesn't seem possible--I can't get it through my head. 
Poor little Caddy! She never had a sick day in her life. No headaches, 
like most Women, even--no nonsense--Oh, Belden, what shall we do?" 
"Brace up, Peter; think what a good fighting chance means, think of 
that! It's not as if Caddy were old; she has that on her side. She's seven 
years behind me, you know." 
Peter scowled. "You're fifty, aren't you?" 
"Not a bit. Only forty-eight, and just that, too. Now you go out and get 
the nurse, and I'll stay here. It'll do you a lot of good. Don't mope 
around in the house all day--what's the use?" 
"I can't leave the house. Honestly, Belden, I can't. I've tried twice, and I 
just walk right back. It's no good. There's the cart--and you won't be 
long, will you?" 
Belden took up the reins with a vague sense of momentary relief: it was 
something to do. Under the influence of the fresh autumn air his spirits 
rose; he found himself enjoying the swift rattle of the cart and the beat 
of the horse's feet. After all, think of Caddy's grit; think of her fine 
constitution! A fighting chance--that was little enough to say, though. 
Why couldn't he have put it a little stronger? Hitchcock always was a 
pessimist. 
At the station the usual crowd of well-dressed suburbanites quieted 
their horses and waited impatiently for the express. As Belden drew up 
into line, they greeted him with a subdued interest; coachmen left their 
seats to ask how Mrs. Moore was to-day, and when could one see her? 
A sudden mist came over his eyes as he answered briefly, "Very 
soon--I hope." 
The train thundered in; in an incredibly short time all the guests and 
commuters were hurried off toward town--where was that nurse?
As his glance wandered through the thinning crowd, it was met 
suddenly and squarely by two brown eyes set in a fresh pink face 
framed by dark hair lightly sprinkled with gray. The second that he 
looked into that woman's eyes taught him her character, absolutely,    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
