CHAPTER V. A NEW YORK BELLE
Meanwhile all our efforts to obtain information in regard to the fate orwhereabouts of the missing girl, had so far proved utterly futile. Eventhe advertisements inserted by Mrs. Daniels had produced no effect; andfrustrated in my scheme I began to despair, when the accounts of thatsame Mrs. Daniels' strange and unaccountable behavior during these daysof suspense, which came to me through Fanny, (the pretty housemaid atMr. Blake's, whose acquaintance I had lately taken to cultivating,)aroused once more my dormant energies and led me to ask myself if theaffair was quite as hopeless as it seemed.
"If she was a ghost," was her final expression on the subject, "shecould'nt go peramberlating this house more than she does. It seems as ifshe could'nt keep still a minute. Upstairs and down, upstairs and down,till we're most wild. And so white as she is and so trembling! Why herhands shake so all the time she never dares lift a dish off the table.And then the way she hangs about Mr. Blake's door when he's at home!She never goes in, that's the oddest part of it, but walks up and downbefore it, wringing her hands and talking to herself just like a madwoman. Why, I have seen her almost put her hand on the knob twice inan afternoon perhaps, then draw back as if she was afraid it would burnher; and if by any chance the door opened and Mr. Blake came out, youought to have seen how she run. What it all means I don't know, but Ihave my imaginings, and if she is'nt crazy, why--" etc., etc.
In face of facts like these I felt it would be pure insanity to despair.Let there be but a mystery, though it involved a man of the position ofMr. Blake and I was safe. My only apprehension had been that the wholeaffair would dissolve itself into an ordinary elopement or some suchcommon-place matter.
When, therefore, a few minutes later, Fanny announced that Mr. Blakehad ordered a carriage to take him to the Charity Ball that evening,I determined to follow him and learn if possible what change hadtaken place in himself or his circumstances, to lead him into such aninnovation upon his usual habits. Though the hour was late I had butlittle difficulty in carrying out my plan, arriving at the Academysomething less than an hour after the opening dance.
The crowd was great and I circulated the floor three times before I cameupon him. When I did, I own I was slightly disappointed; for instead offinding him as I anticipated, the centre of an admiring circle of ladiesand gentlemen, I espied him withdrawn into a corner with a bland oldpolitician of the Fifteenth Ward, discussing, as I presently overheard,the merits and demerits of a certain Smith who at that time was makingsome disturbance in the party.
"If that is all he has come for," thought I, "I had better have stayedat home and made love to the pretty Fanny." And somewhat chagrined, Itook up my stand near by, and began scrutinizing the ladies.
Suddenly I felt my heart stand still, the noise of voices ceasingthe same instant behind me. A lady was passing on the arm of aforeign-looking gentleman, whom it did not require a second glance toidentify with the subject of the portrait in Mr. Blake's house. Older bysome few years than when her picture was painted, her beauty had assumeda certain defiant expression that sufficiently betrayed the fact thatthe years had not been so wholly happy as she had probably anticipatedwhen she jilted handsome Holman Blake for the old French Count. At allevents so I interpreted the look of latent scorn that burned in her darkeyes, as she slowly turned her richly bejeweled head towards the cornerwhere that gentleman stood, and meeting his eyes no doubt, bowed with asudden loss of self-possession that not all the haughty carriage ofher noble form, held doubly erect for the next few moments, could quiteconceal or make forgotten.
"She still loves him," I inwardly commented and turned to see if thesurprise had awakened any expression on his uncommunicative countenance.
Evidently not, for the tough old politician of the Fifteenth Ward waslaughing, at one of his own jokes probably, and looking up in theface of Mr. Blake, whose back was turned to me, in a way that entirelyprecluded all thought of any tragic expression in that quarter. Somewhatdisgusted, I withdrew and followed the lady.
I could not get very near. By this time the presence of a live countessin the assembly had become known, and I found her surrounded by a swarmof half-fledged youths. But I cared little for this; all I wanted toknow was whether Mr. Blake would approach her or not during the evening.Tediously the moments passed; but a detective on duty, or on fanciedduty, succumbs to no weariness. I had a woman before me worth studyingand the time could not be thrown away. I learned to know her beauty;the poise of her head, the flush of her cheek, the curl of her lip, theglance--yes, the glance of her eye, though that was more difficult tounderstand, for she had a way of drooping her lids at times that, whileexceedingly effective upon the poor wretch toward whom she might bedirecting that half-veiled shaft of light, was anything but conducive tomy purposes.
At length with a restless shrug of her haughty shoulders she turned awayfrom her crowd of adorers, her breast heaving under its robing of garnetvelvet, and her whole face flaring with a light that might mean resolveand might mean simply love. I had no need to turn my head to see who wasadvancing towards her; her stately attitude as countess, her thrillingglance as woman, betrayed only too readily.
He was the more composed of the two. Bowing over her hand with a fewwords I could not hear, he drew back a step and began uttering the usualcommon-place sentiments of the occasion.
She did not respond. With a splendor of indifference not often seen evenin the manner of our grandest ladies, she waited, opening and shuttingher richly feathered fan, as one who would say, "I know all this has tobe gone through with, therefore I will be patient." But as the momentspassed, and his tone remained unchanged, I could detect a slight gleamof impatience flash in the depths of her dark eyes, and a changecome into the conventional smile that had hitherto lighted, withoutilluminating her countenance. Drawing still further back from the crowdthat was not to be awed from pressing upon her, she looked around as ifseeking a refuge. Her glance fell upon a certain window, with a gleamof satisfaction. Seeing they would straightway withdraw there, I tookadvantage of the moment and made haste to conceal myself behind acurtain as near that vicinity as possible. In another instant I heardthem approaching.
"You seem to be rather overwhelmed with attention to-night," were thefirst words I caught, uttered in Mr. Blake's calmest and most courteoustones.
"Do you think so?" was the slightly sarcastic reply. "I was justdeciding to the contrary when you came up."
There was a pause. Taking out my knife, I ripped open a seam in thecurtain hanging before me, and looked through. He was eyeing herintently, a firm look upon his face that made its reserve more markedthan common. I saw him gaze at her handsome head piled with its midnighttresses amid which the jewels, doubtless of her dead lord, burned witha fierce and ominous glare, at her smooth olive brow, her partly veiledeyes where the fire passionately blazed, at her scarlet lips tremblingwith an emotion her rapidly flushing cheeks would not allow her toconceal. I saw his glances fall and embrace her whole elegant form withits casing of ruby velvet and ornamentation of lace and diamonds, andan expectant thrill passed through me almost as if I already beheld themask of his reserve falling, and the true man flash out in response tothe wooing beauty of this full-blown rose, evidently in waiting for him.But it died away and a deeper feeling seized me as I saw his glancesreturn unkindled to her countenance, and heard him say in still moremeasured accents than before:
"Is it possible then that the Countess De Mirac can desire the adulationof us poor American plebeians? I had not thought it, madame."
Slowly her dark eyes turned towards him; she stood a statue.
"But I forget," he went on, a tinge of bitterness for a moment showingitself in his smile: "perhaps in returning to her own country, EvelynBlake has so far forgotten the last two years as to find pleasure againin the toys and foibles of her youth. Such things have been, I hear."And he bowed almost to the ground in his half sarcastic homage.
"Evelyn Blake! It is long since I have heard that name," she m
urmured.
He could not restrain the quick flush from mounting to his brow. "Pardonme," said he, "if it brings you sadness or unwelcome memories. I promiseyou I will not so transgress again."
A wan smile crossed her lips grown suddenly pallid.
"You mistake," said she; "if my name brings up a past laden with bittermemories and shadowed by regret, it also recalls much that is pleasantand never to be forgotten. I do not object to hearing my girlhood's nameuttered--by my nearest relative."
The answer was dignity itself. "Your name is Countess De Mirac, yourrelatives must be proud to utter it."
A gleam not unlike the lightning's quick flash shot from the eyes shedrooped before him.
"Is it Holman Blake I am listening to," said she; "I do not recognize myold friend in the cool and sarcastic man of the world now before me."
"We often fail to recognize the work of our hands, madame, after it hasfallen from our grasp."
"What," she cried, "do you mean--would you say that--"
"I would say nothing," interrupted he calmly, stooping for the fan shehad dropped. "At an interview which is at once a meeting and a parting,I would give utterance to nothing which would seem like recrimination.I--"
"Wait," suddenly exclaimed she, reaching out her hand for her fan with agesture lofty as it was resolute. "You have spoken a word which demandsexplanation; what have I ever done to you that you should speak the wordrecrimination to me?"
"What? You shook my faith in womankind; you showed me that a woman whohad once told a man she loved him, could so far forget that love as tomarry one she could never respect, for the sake of titles and jewels.You showed me--"
"Hold," said she again, this time without gesture or any movement, savethat of her lips grown pallid as marble, "and what did you show me?"
He started, colored profoundly, and for a moment stood before herunmasked of his stern self-possession. "I beg your pardon," said he, "Itake back that word, recrimination."
It was now her turn to lift her head and survey him. With glance lesscool than his, but fully as deliberate, she looked at his proud headbending before her; studying his face, line by line, from the stern browto the closely compressed lips on which melancholy seemed to haveset its everlasting seal, and a change passed over her countenance."Holman," said she, with a sudden rush of tenderness, "if in the timesgone by, we both behaved with too much worldly prudence for it now to beany great pleasure for either of us to look back, is that any reasonwhy we should mar our whole future by dwelling too long upon what we aresurely still young enough to bury if not forget? I acknowledge thatI would have behaved in a more ideal fashion, if, after I had beenforsaken by you, I had turned my face from society, and let thecanker-worm of despair slowly destroy whatever life and bloom I hadleft. But I was young, and society had its charms, so did the prospectof wealth and position, however hollow they may have proved; you whoare the master of both this day, because twelve months ago you forsookEvelyn Blake, should be the last to reproach me with them. I do notreproach you; I only say let the past be forgotten--"
"Impossible," exclaimed he, his whole face darkening with an expressionI could not fathom. "What was done at that time cannot be undone. Foryou and me there is no future. Yes," he said turning towards her as shemade a slight fluttering move of dissent, "no future; we can bury thepast, but we can not resurrect it. I doubt if you would wish to if wecould; as we cannot, of course you will not desire even to converse uponthe subject again. Evelyn I wanted to see you once, but I do not wish tosee you again; will you pardon my plain speaking, and release me?"
"I will pardon your plain speaking, but--" Her look said she would notrelease him.
He seemed to understand it so, and smiled, but very bitterly. In anothermoment he had bowed and gone, and she had returned to her crowd ofadoring sycophants.
A Strange Disappearance Page 5