CHAPTER I.
Within the perimeter of a great semi-circle window in a largeluxuriously furnished room of a fashionable residence not far from6666 Hill, in the city of Portland, two women sat reading.
It was an autumn afternoon, just after a light shower, a little warmbut rarely matched for the unusual splendor of its soft, dreamyatmosphere--calm and clear as infinite space.
The incessant roar of the city's commerce floated up and through thescreened windows in muffled echoes, but the readers being accustomedto the sound, were undisturbed.
At length one of the readers, a girl who had not seen more than twentysummers, closed the book she had just finished reading and broke thesilence with the remark: "Most interesting! A great story!"
"Yes," exclaimed her companion, looking up, "particularly in itstreatment of the bogus Count. Indeed, it is realistic enough to betrue."
"So it appears!" replied the maid, "but just imagine such a thing tohappen--as for instance a tramp to impersonate successfully LordBeauchamp!"
"My Lord is a gentleman 'to the manor born,' and impossible ofcounterfeit."
"I understand the reception by Mrs. Harris is to be given in hishonor?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Thorpe, and smiling she went on: "He has promisedto take tea with us today."
"And do you know," said Hazel in an awed tone, "he's a Knight of theOrder of the Garter? It is reported that he is to be married to abeautiful San Francisco girl."
"I have heard it mentioned, but I hardly think his Lordship seeks awife in America, because he is very wealthy."
"But, Constance,--love is sometimes eccentric!"
"Quite true, when its underlying motive is mercenary. You rememberPhilip Rutley."
"Constance!" exclaimed the girl, with a stamp of her foot. "You knowthe wise proverb, 'Let sleeping dogs lie.'"
It was then that Philip Rutley, impersonating Lord Beauchamp, wasushered in, accompanied by Mr. Joseph Corway.
"Ah! My Lord," greeted Constance arising from her seat. "Thisdelightful corner has lured us to forget to welcome you at the portalof our home. Allow me the pleasure of introducing Miss Hazel Brooke,and you, Mr. Corway,--well you know we are always 'at home' to you."
As Rutley deliberately placed a monocle to his eye, he said, "A cornerwith such an entrancing vista," carelessly waving his hand toward theopen, "is a pardonable lure to dreamy forgetfulness."
Then he stared at the girl and, as he supposed, conveyed the desiredimpression, muttered: "Charming!" and that word, uttered with quietand apparently involuntary emphasis, at once made Hazel Brooke hisfriend, and, to add to the favorable impression which Rutley perceivedhe had created, he bowed low and said suavely: "Miss Brooke willpermit me to say, I rejoice in her acquaintance."
"Your Lordship may find me a deceiver."
"I shall not believe so winsome a flower can be unreal." And he againfixed the monocle to his eye and stared at her in pleased assurance.
"Art simulates many charming things of nature," remarked Mrs. Thorpe,and she slyly glanced at Hazel.
The girl almost laughed; but her gentle breeding came to the rescue,and she bore Rutley's stare with admirable nonchalance, until Mr.Corway, feeling a little amused at Lord Beauchamp's monopoly of thegirl's attention answered Mrs. Thorpe: "Yet nature cannot be excelledin anything that is beautiful in art."
For which he received from the girl a smile that thrilled him with aconviction that no lord, no croesus, nor commoner, could dethrone himfrom her heart.
The ordeal in which Hazel found herself under Rutley's disconcertingstare, was terminated by Mrs. Thorpe.
"Your Lordship must be familiar with many beautiful things of nature.By the way, I want you to visit our conservatory. We have some choiceexotics there from the Orinoco."
Rutley removed his monocle, and turned to Mrs. Thorpe. "My secretaryobtained some rare specimens in Bogota, nevertheless I shall considerit a pleasure to visit your collection, for indeed it must be superb,judging from such natural beauty already in evidence."
"You are coming, too," said Mrs. Thorpe, turning to Hazel and Mr.Corway.
"Thanks!--that is,--we shall join you presently," stammered Mr. Corway,looking at Hazel with a half smile.
Mrs. Thorpe looked amused as she said: "Oh, very well," and then,halting on the threshold, turned again and added: "Hazel, dear, don'tforget the conservatory."
Rutley and Mrs. Thorpe had scarcely gone when Hazel exclaimed: "Well!I'm waiting for you."
"Of course," Corway replied haltingly; then, after a pause, "Hazel!"
"Miss Brooke--please," she corrected, with a tantalizing smile.
"Oh--confound it. Hazel"--he began again.
"Are you coming?" she interrupted, moving away, but with anaggravating smile playing fitfully about her face.
Whereupon he bowed low, with mock formality, approached her offeringhis arm. "I crave the honor."
The girl placed her hand in his arm with a promptness that flushed hisface, but immediately blanched it with the teasing remark: "It's to beonly as far as the conservatory, you know."
"And from there around the grounds," he replied tenderly.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You insist on going the rounds with me? Oh, verywell!" and they laughed together.
Shortly after they had gone, the portieres of an entrance to the leftwere cautiously parted and a young girl peeped in, then entered theroom. She was the embodiment of youth, happiness and expectancy.
She was dressed in the whitest of white muslin. A narrow band ofmagenta-colored silk encircled her slender waist, the long, loose endsof the bow flowing almost to her feet, while her mass of raven blackhair drawn back from her fair white forehead, and coiled at the backof her shapely head lent a queenly grace to a divinely moulded form.
The suppleness of her carriage, intensified by the simplicity of hersoft, faultless dress, was a poem of delight which needed no skill ofadornment to beautify; no touch of art to dignify.
Across the room she stole, as lightly as though her feet were winged,and listened at the door.
"I am sure I heard his voice!" Then with a smile of joy, she trippedto the open window overlooking the piazza, and looked out,murmuring--"how I long to see him. My Joe! Handsome, manly Joe, I adoreyou. And these, his flowers--his favorite flower, our beautiful rose,"drawing from her hair two red roses, which she kissed again and again.
"I hurried home because I could not remain away from you, and now--oh,the joy of a glad surprise--I hear footsteps!" and she listenedexpectantly, then turned to behold Mrs. Harris, an elderly lady ofportly bearing and elegantly dressed, who was at that moment enteringfrom the piazza.
"Why, Virginia, I am delighted. You look the happiest girl in theland," taking her hand and kissing her. "Oregon peach-bloom on yourcheeks, too; I'll wager you are just in from the farm, you hayseed."
"Yes, and I've had the most delightful time," replied the girl softly."Romped over the fields of sweet-smelling clover, and through theorchards, and helped in the hay-field, too," she laughed joyously.
"Hands up! I mean the palms," said Mrs. Harris, in mock severity. "Itmust have been a silver rake you handled in the hay-field," sheresumed, after scrutinizing the palms of Virginia's outstretchedhands, "for there isn't even a callous."
"It is harvest time," replied the girl, laughing, "and the harvestmoon is death to callouses, you know."
"We've missed you, dear, at Seaside," said Mrs. Harris. "But still youlook just as charming as though you had been there the entire season."
"You rude flatterer. The seaside is nice, but I love our dear old farmhome in the valley, best. Yet"--Virginia continued, demurely, withdowncast eyes, "it seemed a little dull this year, and, you see, Ihave a reason for coming in before the harvest is over."
As the girl stood with downcast eyes, her countenance appearedexquisitely regular, dignified and very beautiful.
"Ah, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Harris, with admiration. "An affair of theheart--a man in it, eh, dear?--I know hi
m. He will be here in a fewmoments--lucky fellow!"
"Will he?--are you sure?"
"Dear me! How joyful you are!" said Mrs. Harris, staring kindly ather.
"Oh, if you had been away from your sweetheart for so long a time as Ihave been from mine"--
"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mrs. Harris. "Why, Virginia dear, only twoweeks! Really you carry me back to my own girlish days, just after Imet James--I remember well--my heart nearly fluttered out of its place."
"My heart fluttered out of its place weeks and weeks ago, and will notflutter back, unless"--
"Unless what, dear?"
"Unless he despises it," she said, with a sigh.
"Well, the dear boy is pining to see you. That I know, so there is apair of you."
"Is he getting thin?" questioned Virginia, eagerly.
"Not exactly, but--listen!" And Mrs. Harris held up a warning finger asshe looked out over the piazza.
"He is coming!"
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Virginia, in an ecstacy of joy. "I shall hideand surprise him. Oh! his favorites have wilted. I will pluck freshones in the conservatory, and hasten back--don't tell!" and with thatshe flew out of the room through the portieres.
As Mrs. Harris stood alone in a contemplative mood, she said aloud toherself: "Oh, dear! These hearts of ours! How foolish they make us attimes--I have often thought our Sam was a 'lady killer,' now I am sureof it."
Just then Sam Harris stepped across the piazza and entered the room.
Sam was a young man just having passed his twenty-fourth birthday. Hisstrong chin was indicative of fidelity to his friends, and his mass ofreddish, curly hair lent expression to a jovial expression ofcountenance.
Sam was particularly joyous in anticipation of meeting VirginiaThorpe. "Have you seen her, Auntie?" and he straightway opened a doorleading to the library and looked in; then he closed it.
Mrs. Harris quietly watched him and became disturbed with misgivings,lest his zeal in his present frame of mind would impair the dignityshe considered so essential to his enterprise as well as to theposition the Harrises held in society.
It was therefore necessary to impress on him the importance of"proper" form, which she immediately undertook, and addressed him withcalm stateliness.
"Now, Sam, I warn you to be careful how you greet Virginia. Remember,though but twenty-two, she is an accomplished young lady."
"Don't I know it!" he replied, with a satisfied smile.
"Don't touch the portieres, Sam! Sam!" she exclaimed in alarm, but hercommand was unheeded, and Sam spread them wide apart, much to hisaunt's consternation.
No one being behind the portiere, she appeared amazed, but quicklyrecovering her composure, continued:
"Dear me! How very strange! Oh, yes, I forgot. She has gone to theconservatory." Then she muttered in low tones:
"Now I have said it, and she told me not to tell."
"Well, I'm off to the conservatory, too--eh, Auntie! Don't follow me,"and he strode toward the piazza.
"Sam! Sam! Remain here. I have something to say to you."
"Well, be quick, Auntie. You know I am crazy to see her. Eh! I guessso."
"'Crazy!' Well, remember the least display of rudeness or unseemlyeagerness will be promptly met with a frown of displeasure."
"Auntie, she's finer than the petals of a rose."
"But, like a rose, too, she is just as sensitive," cautioned Mrs.Harris, as she majestically moved over to the mantel--and then sheabruptly turned, at a fresh thought. "Sam, for the sake of our socialprestige--for my own hope that your affection shall be reciprocated"--
"Love, Auntie!" interrupted Sam. "That's the word. It's short and tothe point. Eh?"
Quite undisturbed by the interruption, she continued: "And for thesupreme pleasure it would afford me to see the house of Harris unitedto the house of Thorpe, I desire that you give me an example of themanner you intend to approach Virginia."
The idea appeared so grotesque to Sam that he gave a slightinclination of his head, a habit he had somehow acquired in the"Desert," and exclaimed in startled emphasis: "Ea-Ah! How?"
"By addressing me as you would her."
With a smile broadening his face and a roguish twinkle of the eye, heexclaimed: "Can't be done, Auntie! You ain't the real thing. Can'twork up any excitement over a counterfeit."
"Sam! It grieves me to say that I fear for your success. Her rejectionof your suit would mean humiliation for us. Therefore I insist thatyou remember what I have told you and address Virginia as I shallinstruct you."
Sam was too shrewd to oppose his aunt's determination--a previousexperience having taught him the desirability of quietly agreeing withher notions, so with a smile of acquiescence he answered:
"All right, Auntie! Fire away."
Drawing herself up in a stately pose, she passed to the end of theroom, turned, and again faced him. "Now, Sam, I request you to impressupon your memory every word I utter, so that you may salute yourlady-love in a similar manner. Do you comprehend?"
"I think so, Auntie," and thereupon thrust his hands in his trouserpockets.
"Sam, remove your hands from your pockets. It is neither good form norin accordance with polite usage, for a gentleman to bury his hands inhis trouser pockets, when in the presence of a lady."
"All right, Auntie!" and he grinned broadly as he removed theoffending hands.
With a most affable smile, yet maintaining a dignified carriage, sheadvanced down the room, halted midway, and gracefully bowed, thencontinuing, extended her hand, which Sam took. She again bowed andcarried his hand to her lips; then taking both his hands in hers andlooking straight into his eyes, smiled and said:
"I am delighted to have the honor of congratulating Miss Thorpe on hersafe return." She then released his hands and proceeded across theroom.
"Is that all?" came from Sam, in a burst of dismay.
Mrs. Harris turned sharply and emphatically exclaimed: "Yes, Sam. Inyour conversation with Virginia beware of gushing familiarity. Nothingto my mind is more likely to jeopardize your suit than absurdvulgarity." So saying, she again turned and proceeded toward the door.
"Auntie, I can do better than that. Why, you left out the best part."And his eyes twinkled mischieviously, while a laugh on his face wassuppressed with difficulty.
She turned quickly, and in much surprise exclaimed: "Dear me! I didn'tknow it. What is it?"
"I will show you." With that Sam passed to the end of the room andturned. "Now, Auntie, I'll try to think that you are my sweetheart,Virginia."
Smiling, he proceeded down the room, halted midway, bowed and thencontinued toward his aunt, took her right hand, clasped it between histwo, and looked into her eyes. He then raised her hand to his leftshoulder and while he held it there, pressed her waist with his rightarm--"I am delighted to welcome you home again." Pressing her closer tohim--"Believe me--I--I can never forget--that I--I,"--then he becameabsent-minded and, to save himself, suddenly blurted out--"I loveyou--there!" And he kissed her lips and embraced her vigorously. Then,with a whirl, he released her, laughing as he did so, and exclaimed:"Ah ha! I guess so, eh, Auntie?"
Mrs. Harris recovered herself, in the middle of the room, and gaspedout: "Oh, dear! What a shock. I am sure I am twisted all out ofshape."
Sam stood with a satisfied grin on his face, and thrust his hands inhis trouser pockets, and watched her. "That was love! The realthing--eh, Auntie!"
"Dear me," she exclaimed, between her labored breathing. "I was nevertreated to anything so rude in my life. Your arm, Sam. Assist me tothe piazza. I must have more air."
"Auntie, you wait till I try it on Virginia. Oh, my! Eh!"
Meanwhile a little scene was being enacted in the conservatory,destined to produce the gravest consequences to others than thosedirectly concerned. After examining the rare plants, Mrs. Thorpe andMy Lord had passed out to an attractive bed of massed chrysanthemums,fringed with geraniums, then in full flower--leaving Hazel and Corwayalone.
Propit
ious fate again granted him the opportunity he so ardentlydesired.
They were looking at some violet buds, concealed by giant Canna leavesand a profusion of palms, when there passed through the girl's frameone of those mysterious thrills--which man designates magnetic, butwhich Providence has really made inscrutable to the humanunderstanding.
"I wonder," she faintly exclaimed, and slowly turning her head--theirlips met.
Though stolen, it was delicately done--one of those exquisite littlegems of cause and effect, which naturally happen to true sweethearts.
They stood looking at each other in surprised silence.
"I did not grant you that privilege," at length broke from Hazel, in afaltering manner--her cheeks flushing and her soft blue eyes dancing.
"I could not resist the temptation," and taking her two hands in his,added: "Hazel, I love you! Will you be mine?"
"Why, Mr. Corway!" replied the maid, disengaging herself.
She spoke and acted quietly, while a bewitching smile shone in hereyes.
At that moment, unnoticed by them, a shadow suddenly darkened thedoorway. It did not tarry long, and swiftly disappeared.
Unseen herself, Virginia had entered the conservatory, her footfallsas light as her joyous young heart, the happiest of the happy.
Hearing that voice, she had paused, then gently parted some leavesand--the smile died on her lips.
She stood for a moment like one transfixed, listening in an amazedwonder, then, undiscovered, she silently withdrew into deeper foliage.
"Why draw away from me, Hazel?" went on Corway.
"Because! You may not be sincere!" replied the girl, shyly.
"Not sincere? Hazel, from the first moment that I beheld you I feltthat I stood in the presence of my fate."
"But, Mr. Corway,"--she returned, with that provoking smile stilllurking about the corners of her pretty mouth--"don't you love anyother?"
"No," he softly replied.
"Are you sure?"
"Sure!"
"Not even Virginia?"
"I respect her, but do not love her--Oh, Hazel, do not keep me insuspense. Tell me you requite my love--promise to be mine, to cherishand protect forever"--and again he took her unresisting hand in his anddrew her near him.
"Well, this is so serious that--don't you think that I should have alittle time to consider it?"
Her face had taken on a half-serious look, but the little cloud wasquickly chased away by a happy smile.
Nor did it escape the eager eye of her sweet-heart. He saw that herhesitation was not to be taken seriously, and as a test he said insoft, tremulous accents: "Then the girl I would die for does not loveme, does not care for me--"
Turning half around to him, in a pleading and half-reproachful way,she tenderly emphasized: "Oh, I do love you, Joe, with all my heart."And throwing wide her arms, fell on his breast, with the joy of amaiden's first love flushing her face.
And then their lips met--deep in the sweet intoxication of love's firstconfiding trust.
"Thou perfect flower! To express the fullness of my heart would beimpossible," he joyfully exclaimed.
And thus, while pressing her hand on his shoulder and feeling a ringon her finger, he gently removed it.
"Oh! that's Virginia's ring; that is, I got it from her," sheprotested feebly, her head pillowed on his breast.
"It shall be a 'Mizpah' of trust, dearest, and shall come back to youwith an engagement ring," he softly replied, as he slipped it into hisvest pocket.
In one of Virginia's happy girlish moments, she had picked up the ringfrom Constance's dressing table, and admiring its beauty, smilinglyslipped it upon her own finger, with the owner's permission to wear itawhile, but with the injunction to "be careful not to lose it, dear,for I value it very highly. It was John's gift to me before we weremarried"--and then later, on that same day, with Hazel's arm claspingher waist and her own arm clasping Hazel's, the two happy girlsstrolling through the grounds--to have Hazel remove it in the sameadmiring fashion and slip it on her own finger, Virginia yielding toher young cousin, just as Constance, in perfect trust, yielded to her.And then in the morning, all forgetful of the ring, she left for theValley farm.
And now, on her sudden return, she beheld that same ring taken byCorway as a size for Hazel's engagement ring, and heard him declare"it shall be a Mizpah of trust, dearest."
A sigh unconsciously escaped her; a sigh freighted with the blood offibers as love tore itself away from her heart.
Hazel heard it, and in alarm said to Corway: "What is that? Did youhear it? So like a moan?"
He looked around. "You were mistaken, dearest; there is none here butyou and me."
"Oh, yes, I heard it"--and with a timidity in which a slight sense offear was discernible, said: "Let us go out in the open."
But he held her firm, loath to release the beautiful being claspedclose to his heart.
"This is for truest love"--and he kissed her again, as she looked upthrough eyes of unswerving fidelity. "This for never-falteringconstancy"--and again their lips met--"And this, a sacred pledge oflife's devotion, God helping me, forever more"--and their lips met yetonce again.
Then they passed out to join Mrs. Thorpe and Rutley.
Virginia had witnessed the pledge that meant the blighting of herlife's fond hopes, and she had heard his passionate declaration.
With straining eyes and a very white face, she watched them depart,till there welled up and gathered thick-falling tears that mercifullyshut him out from her sight. She sat down on a bench.
She thought of the honeyed words and eager attention with which hewooed her, and made captive her young heart's deepest, most ardentpassion, and now his perfidy was laid bare.
With an effort she became more composed, and exclaimed aloud: "So, thealmighty dollar is the object of Joseph Corway's devotion." And as herindignation increased, she sprang from her seat, and with quiveringvoice, said: "Oh, God! and I did confide in him so fondly, trusted himso guilelessly, and now our engagement is ended and all is overbetween us--forever." And notwithstanding her effort to suppress them,sob after sob burst forth.
Strong-minded and of powerful emotions, Virginia Thorpe was a queenlywoman, a woman whose friendship was prized by her acquaintances, andwhose wealth of intellect was a charm to a strikingly graceful figure;and the love that was in her nature once awakened, grew andintensified day by day till at last a steadfast blaze of trust andconfidence glorified her personality.
Such she bore for Corway--until she discovered he loved Hazel. Oh, whata change then came over her, as her heart yielded up its dearestdesire in tears of scalding bitterness.
"Oh, Joe! tenderly I loved you, passionately I adored you, and you ledme to believe that you loved none but me, yet all the time your hearthad gone out to another, and this is no doubt the real reason youwanted our engagement to be kept a secret, and my love, which no womanhad greater, was but a plaything!" she thought to herself.
She looked at the roses she had unconsciously held in her hand, withinfinite tenderness, then crushed them, and broke them.
"Farewell, sweet emblems of truth and love." And throwing the flowers,which she had so fondly kissed but a few moments before, among deadleaves on the ground, said in a voice that trembled with the pathos ofthe death of love's young dream:
"Thus perish all my young life's happy hopes. Gone! Gone among thethings that are dead." Sobs of bitterest disappointment again burstfrom her lips.
Suddenly she brushed her hand across her eyes--it was then thatVirginia's transformation took place.
From the guileless, joyful, winsome maid, emerged a woman--beautiful,but alas, subtle, alert and avenging. With a stamp of her foot shesaid, with sudden determination:
"Away with these tears. What have I to do with human feelings now? Iwill conquer this weakness, though in the process my heart be changedto stone.
"Now, Corway, beware of me, for you shall know that the love you havetoyed with has changed to hate, an unappeasabl
e, undying hate, and youshall learn, too, that a woman's revenge will pause at nothing thatwill help to gratify it." Then she slipped out of the conservatory,with the intention to get to her room, if possible, unobserved, butwas halted by hearing Constance say: "Virginia, dear! I wish to makeyou acquainted with Lord Beauchamp."
There was no chance for evasion or escape. Virginia had not noticedthem as she passed, for they were hidden by the angle of theconservatory, and she was quite close to them when addressed byConstance.
Quick of wit, the girl realized that some excuse was necessary toaccount for the appearance of her tear-stained face. Halting in herflight, she drew her handkerchief and commenced to rub her eyes, andspeaking with faltering lips, for the wound in her heart was yet rawand tender, she said: "Your Lordship finds me at an awkwardmoment--something has gotten into my eye, and causes me acute pain, butplease believe, I esteem it an honor to number Your Grace among myacquaintances."
"Dear heart!" exclaimed Constance, at once proceeding to examine thegirl's eye. "Let me try to relieve you!"
As Virginia felt the touch of loving fingers on her eyelids, she feltpowerless to restrain her emotion, and great tears welled up. Herweary head fell forward upon her friend's shoulder, and she sobbed:"Oh, Constance, dear, the world to me is one black charnel house."
The gentle nature of Constance leaped out in sympathy which, for themoment, smothered her surprise. She threw her arms around Virginia andkissed her on the temple.
That Virginia suffered was enough, she felt instinctively that such anoutburst of grief was from a far deeper source than that produced bythe mote in her eye.
Virginia always had confided in Constance. That desire to communicate,so natural in youth, was strong in the girl. In Hazel, she had beenmet with a sort of pity, till she ceased to touch upon girlish secretswith her altogether, but in Constance she found one who would notchide even folly, and so these two were, by the nature of things, veryclose friends.
"There, dear heart," soothingly said Constance, "rest awhile, for Iknow the pain must be severe."
Rutley was an involuntary witness to this bit of feminine sympathy,and, no doubt, recalled it to memory in the events that were to come.His immediate concern, however, expressed itself in a cold,matter-of-fact manner. "Oftentimes," he said, "the protection suppliedby nature to the human eye seems insufficient, and consequentsuffering must be endured. I trust Miss Thorpe will soon find relief."
"Oh! I am sure the pain is only temporary," half rebelliously repliedVirginia, drawing away from Constance, and rapidly recovering herself-possession, as she brushed the tears from her eyes. "There," shesaid, "it is passing away now, and I can see quite distinctly already.Why, how like your lordship resembles a past acquaintance," sheremarked, as she eyed him critically.
"Indeed, if the acquaintance you mention was not consigned to thegallows, it might be no sin to resemble him," responded Rutley,stroking his Vandyke beard.
"Oh! his offense was quite serious, poor fellow! Some shady bondtransaction with an investment association, in which he, and one JackShore, were the officers. I have heard that the directors agreed notto prosecute them on condition that they left the city and neverreturned."
"In England, were it not for the color of my hair, I should have beentaken often for the Marquis of Revelstoke," and to the girl's dismay,he stiffened up and directed on her a most austere and frigid look,then deliberately fixed the monocle to his eye, and remarked, as hisframe faintly quivered, as with a slight chill--"It's deuced draughty,don't-che-know!"
He then removed the monocle, and suddenly resumed his habitually suavemanner. Picking up a binocle, which lay on the table, he turned tolook toward Mt. Hood--"Sublime!" he exclaimed.
"It is very beautiful and white today," remarked Constance.
"Indeed," assured Rutley, "it seems close enough to touch with myoutstretched hand."
"My lord's arm would need to be thirty miles long," smiled Mrs.Thorpe, who was then ascending the steps.
"A long reach," responded Rutley, lowering the glass.
"The illusion is due to our clear atmosphere," replied Mrs. Thorpe.
"I presume so," agreed Rutley.
"At times the air is phenomenally clear. One day this past Summer Ifancied I could make out the 'Mazamas,' who were then ascending themountain," quietly remarked Virginia.
"Aw, indeed, very likely; quite so," continued Rutley, handing theglass to Constance, and then turning to Virginia with an alluringsmile, added: "And then, the ladies--are so bewitchingly entertaining."
"Presumably your idea of American girls has suggested the art offlattery."
"No, no!" he replied. "It's no flattery, I assure you."
Just then Hazel and Mr. Corway approached the group standing on thepiazza.
Virginia saw them, and with an affected sigh, she turned to JohnThorpe, who was standing at the head of the piazza steps, and who alsowas looking at the approaching couple, and taking him aside, said in alow voice: "John, has it occurred to you that Corway is a handsomeman?"
"He certainly is good looking and well proportioned, too," repliedThorpe, with a quizzical stare at his sister, and his stare developeda smile, as he added, pleasantly: "But why?--are you, too, becomingenamored of this handsome man?"
With downcast eyes, and sudden flushed cheeks, that betrayed the shameshe felt at the part she had elected to assume, her answer was givenin a low, serious voice: "I have reason to warn you as my cousin'sguardian, that his intentions are not of the best."
Thorpe felt a strange gripping sensation creep into his heart, andthen he, too, looked serious, but his seriousness quickly passed, ashe thoughtfully muttered: "No, no, 'tis impossible!" and then, in amore unperturbed manner, said slowly: "His reputation for honor andrectitude is above reproach."
Though his muttering was scarcely audible, Virginia heard him. "Areyou sure?" she replied, in a voice equally subdued, and with a flashof anger in her meaning glance. "You may find that he will bearwatching. And you also may find that his attention to Hazel is aninsult to our family honor."
The possibility of Hazel, his guileless orphan niece, of whom he wasso proud, could be the victim of a base deception, had never enteredhis mind, and so it happened that the first shadow that had darkenedthe serenity of his trust, was, strangely enough, projected by hissister.
As his eyes again fell upon Hazel's sweet, sensible face, then liftedto the manly, honest countenance of her companion, he at once banishedthe fear from his mind, and impatiently exclaimed: "Oh, this isnonsense!" Then he turned on his heel, hesitated, and again turned,and looked furtively at Corway, muttering: "Yet I cannot banish thethought. I wonder what causes Virginia--no, I have never suspected himof vice." Then he slowly disappeared through the vestibule.
As Corway and Hazel approached the steps, Virginia seemed to stiffenand slightly shudder. She felt like ice, and disdained the slightestrecognition which he made to her. She turned away with a look ofineffable contempt, and moved slowly over to Rutley and Constance.
Corway instinctively felt that she had been a witness to his scenewith Hazel, but he affected unconcern, and allowed the incident topass without comment.
During the brief time this significant episode was being enacted,Hazel's attention was attracted to Sam and Dorothy approaching on thedrive, so she was unaware of the change that had come over her cousin.
"You must come in, Sam, 'cause I like you, and you haven't been to seeus for a long time--Oh, mamma, we have had such fine fun, Sam andI"--and there appeared from around the corner of the piazza DorothyThorpe pulling Sam Harris along by the sleeve.
"Well, Sam," said Mrs. Thorpe, overlooking him from the piazza, "wethought you had forgotten us."
"No, indeed," replied Sam, and as he discovered Virginia, he addedunder his breath: "At least not while that fair party is around."
"Of course, you have acted as Mrs. Harris' escort?"
"My aunt is on the lawn," he answered, and then as he ascended thesteps, greeted Virgin
ia. "Miss Thorpe will permit me to congratulateher upon her safe return."
"I have had quite a journey," replied Virginia coldly.
"Well, you have enjoyed it?" ventured Sam, and then he noted a swiftquestioning glance of anger.
In his dilemma, he felt an awkwardness creeping over him and grinnedbroadly, and then stupidly faltered: "That is, I guess so!"
"You guess wide of the mark."
"Aha," replied Sam, with a roguish twinkle of the eye, "my eyes do notdeceive me, eh?"
"Flattery is embarrassing to me. I beg of you to avoid it." And shethereupon, with a look of weariness, turned and disappeared throughthe vestibule.
"I guess so! I guess so!" exclaimed Sam, abashed, and a flush ofmortification overspread his face.
"Do you like auntie, Sam?" abruptly questioned the child.
She had softly stolen to his side, unperceived, and her voice soundedso close as to startle him.
"Ea, ah!--well, I should think so," he unconsciously muttered.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. Thorpe, who could ill repress asmile--"Dorothy, dear! I think the robins are calling for you out inthe sunshine."
"Come, little one," said Sam, glad of an opportunity to escape from anawkward position. "And while you are listening to the featheredsongsters, I'll keep a sharp lookout for the fair party you callauntie. Come," and he took the child's hand and the two ran down thesteps. Darting around the corner, they almost collided with JohnThorpe and Mrs. Harris, who were approaching to join the company onthe piazza.
"Ha--democratic Hazel in the role of 'noblesse oblige,' is somethingnew--congratulations, my lord, on the conquest!" said Mrs. Harris.
"I am proud of the acquaintance of so fair a a democrat," andconfronting Mrs. Harris, he continued: "England's nobility lays homageat the feet of your fair democrats, for they are the golden links inthe chain of conquest."
"And it is my hope that soon one of the golden links will bear thedistinguished title, Lady Beauchamp," replied Mrs. Harris, while hereyes flashed a merry twinkle in the direction of Hazel.
"Of course," remarked Mr. Corway, who, flushed with jealousy resentedthe allusion. "His lordship doubtless since his arrival in the countryhas been overwhelmed with offerings of the youth and beauty ofAmerica."
"It seems to me that you are talking in mysteries," remarked Hazel.
Mr. Corway moved toward her. "I appeal to the shrine of beauteous Hebefor vindication."
"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" laughed the girl. "Wouldn't it be a surprise if theappeal should be negative?"
"But the shrine of Hebe is not often invincible," rejoined Constance."You must remember there is hope and there is perseverence--but this isirrelevant," and, turning to Mrs. Harris, continued: "Have you leftMr. Harris at Rosemont?"
"Oh, no! James is out in the flower garden, discussing rose culturewith Virginia."
"Then I propose that we join them," said Mrs. Thorpe.
"And I suggest a stroll through the lovely lawn, under the glory ofAutumn foliage," added Rutley, who immediately turned and offeredConstance his arm, and the two passed down the steps.
Hazel and Corway were following Rutley, when John Thorpe attracted thegirl's attention by quietly exclaiming: "Hazel!"
She at once turned to Corway: "I shall be with you directly--uncle hassomething to say to me."
As Mr. Corway and Mrs. Harris passed down the steps, John Thorpe andHazel entered the house.
"You have something to say to me, Uncle?"
"Yes, Hazel," and as they passed into the drawing room he bit his lipin an endeavor to appear unperturbed.
With a girl's intuition, she scented something unpleasant, and with atimid and startled look, she faltered: "What--is it Uncle?"
"Hazel," he began, and his eyes rested on his beautiful niece--verybeautiful just then, her eyes bright and clear and "peach-bloom" ofhealth, the famed Oregon coloring so becoming to the sex, and as helooked at her he became suddenly conscious of a struggle raging in hisbreast. A struggle between doubt and confidence--but he stumbled onslowly--"I think--you show more--concern for--a--the company of Mr. Corwaythan prudence--I mean--Hazel!"
At that moment Virginia pushed aside the portiere and silently steppedinto the room.
John Thorpe paused, for he saw the girl's face whiten, and her eyeslook into his with an expression of wonderment, and then his heartseemed to leap to his throat, and choke him with a sense of shame athis implication.
He put his arm gently about her, looked into the depths of her blueeyes, and said, kindly: "As you love the memory of your father andyour mother, Hazel, beware that you do not make too free in thesociety of Corway. Let your conduct be hedged about with propriety"----
"Uncle!" she interrupted, drawing away from him like a startled fawnhit from ambush.
Virginia saw her opportunity to sever the friendship between herbrother and Corway.
Before her transformation she would have been shocked beyond measureat so wicked a falsehood, as she then decided to launch. Impelled by aconsuming desire for revenge, no blush of shame checked her madcourse, and "no still small voice" warned her of her sin.
She said: "John, if our family honor is to be protected from scandal,you will prevent your niece from having further to do with Mr.Corway."
Both John and Hazel turned toward her. A deep silence ensued.
Implicit trust and confidence, the confidence begotten in perfectdomestic peace and contentment, had followed John Thorpe--but now, forthe first time, he found a tinge of shame and indignation had creptinto his heart--and he could not banish it.
At last he gravely broke the silence--"Have you no answer to this,Hazel?"
The girl's eyes flashed resentment, but she refrained from angryexpression, for to her uncle she always showed the greatest deference,yet her voice trembled a little as she said, with girlish dignity: "Idecline to reply to such an absurdity."
"Hazel!" warned Virginia, "you are dangerously near ruin when in thecompany of that man, for his reputation is anything but clean."
Again a painful silence followed, Hazel, appearing incapable ofclearly understanding just what it was all about, stood dumb withastonishment, while John's varied emotions were seen plainly throughthe thin veneer of tranquility he tried to maintain.
John Thorpe was jealous of the honor of his house. The mere thought ofits possible violation bruised and lacerated him.
Proud of his high position in society; proud of his high rectitude;proud of his father's untarnished life; proud of the fact that not thefaintest shadow of scandal could ever attach to his house or name--thehinted criminations of his his orphan niece, maintained in his home asone of the family, beat upon him with much the same effect as thehorrifying wings of a bat upon the face of a frightened child.
Virginia saw and felt that the crisis of her ruse was near. Again aflush of daring sprang into her eyes, ominous of deeper sin, but Johnunconsciously spared her from further commitment. Doubt was master atlast, for he chose to lean toward Virginia.
"Hazel!" he exclaimed, his white, grave face betraying a keen sense ofhis shame. "Your rash fondness for that man is a sacrifice ofaffection, and I shall forbid him visiting our house."
"A wise precaution," commented Virginia.
At last Hazel's indignation broke through all restraint.
"I am astonished at your implications," she retorted, her voicebecoming pathetic with the sense of her wounded honor. "My 'rashfondness'! Uncle!" and she drew her slight form up erect, her eyesflashing defiance: "If to believe in Mr. Corway's preferment is asacrifice of affection, then that sacrifice is to me an exalted honor,for I have consented to become his wife!"
"Hazel!" gasped John Thorpe, amazed and dismayed at her declaration.
"I have suspected such a calamity would happen--but even now it is nottoo late to prevent it!" exclaimed Virginia, sharply.
"Why, Virginia," reproached Hazel, with a stamp of her foot. "Youinsult me!" and she turned away to conceal the tears that arose.
During a short, impressive silence, Mrs. Harris abruptly entered theroom, followed by Corway and Sam. "Dear me!" she exclaimed, as shesmilingly surveyed the trio, "James has often gone into raptures overthe domestic cooing of the Thorpes, but I was quite unaware that itmade them careless of the wishes of their guests.
"Thorpe, your arm"--and she swept down the room and seized his arm."Hazel, I have brought you an escort," and with a smile at Virginia,"I don't think that Sam is far away. You cannot refuse to come now."
Hazel proudly accepted Corway's arm. Then they turned to leave theroom. As they neared the door, Virginia exclaimed, with low butstartling irony: "Il. cavalier is careful to make it appear he isdelighted with the society of his affianced. No doubt feeling anhonorable justification for his mercenary felicity. Ho, ho," Virginialaughed, her lips quivering with scorn. "The situation is charming.Ha, ha, ha, ha."
The principals to this little drama understood its meaning perfectly,but while Mrs. Harris paused for an instant in wonderment, her easynature forbade worry--and so the incident quickly passed out of hermemory, and Sam was too shrewd to show that he heard it, and with hisround face beaming with unquenchable admiration, bowed and offered hisarm to her, accompanied by the characteristic side movement of hishead--"Ea, ha, I guess so--eh, Auntie?"
The joyous manner of utterance was like a shaft of sunshine burstingthrough the dark, tragic clouds of impending storm.
Virginia's first attack fell short of accomplishing the purposeintended, yet the seed of doubt, of suspicion and fear of familydisgrace had been grounded in her brother's mind, and it would bestrange, indeed, if Corway's position proved invulnerable to morecarefully-planned attacks.
It must be remembered that an opportunity had come at an unexpectedmoment, and she impulsively seized upon it. Through it all, however,Virginia must be credited with a sincere belief that Corway'sintentions toward Hazel were as insincere and mercenary as they hadbeen to her.