Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter
Page 24
CHAPTER XXIII.
SETTING SOME SNARES.
Three days had now passed since Madeline's return from the city. Onthe morning of the fourth day, she seized the first leisure moment fora visit to the post-office. Instead of the single letter from Olivethat she had expected, she found three.
They were enclosed in one wrapper. This she removed on her way back toOakley, and found the first, as was the wrapper, addressed in Olive'shand. The penmanship of the second was fairy-like and beautiful, andshe recognized it as Claire's. At sight of the third, her heart gave agreat bound, and then almost stood still. It was superscribed in afirm, manly hand, and was, it must be, from Dr. Vaughan.
Once securely locked in her room, Madeline opened the first of herletters with eager fingers. Yes, Olive's first. The desire to see what_he_ had said was strong in her heart, but she had decided not tohumor her heart. She held his letter caressingly for a moment and thenputting it beside Claire's opened and read Olive Girard's letter.
It was like Olive's self; sweet, womanly, hopeful, yet sad:
DEAR MADELINE:
I am only now beginning to realize the new life and hope you have put into my heart. As I think again of what you have done and are doing, I cannot but feel faith in your success. Oh, if I could but work with you; for you and for Philip!
Again and again I implore you to pardon me for ever doubting your wisdom or strength. If at any time I can aid you--such poor aid--my purse is yours, as your cause is mine.
Claire and Doctor Vaughan will speak for themselves. And as I dare make no more suggestions to so wise a woman, I only put in a faint little plea. Do, pray, grant Doctor Vaughan's request, and may God aid you in all that you do.
OLIVE.
"Doctor Vaughan's request!" repeated the girl. "Would that I couldgrant him not only all his requests, but all his wishes!"
Then she opened Claire's letter.
MY GRAND MADELINE:
How proud I am to claim you for my friend! I shall never again conduct myself with any degree of meekness toward people who have not the happiness of knowing you. And you should hear Doctor Vaughan extol you! He says you are wiser and braver than any detective. That he would trust you in any emergency. That if any one can lift the cloud that hangs over poor Philip, it is you.
My heart tells me that you will yet prove the good angel of Philip and Olive, as already you have been mine; and soon, I pray, you will become that and more to Doctor Vaughan; you must and shall. I shall have no wish ungratified when I can see your trials at an end; and yourself, surrounded by us who love you, happy at last. Don't let all these other claimants push me out of your heart; always keep one little place for your loving, grateful
CLAIRE.
Madeline's eyes were moist when she lifted them from the perusal ofthis letter.
"Bright, beautiful, brave Claire," she murmured; "who could helploving her?"
Then her eyes fell again upon the letter, and she started:
"'You will become that and more to Doctor Vaughan,'" she read. "Whatcan she mean? Can it be possible that, after all, I have betrayedmyself to her?"
She re-read the letter from beginning to end, her face flushing andpaling.
"Oh!" she whispered softly, "she has read my heart, and we are playingat cross purposes! What a queer rivalry," the girl actually laughed;"a rivalry of renunciation. Does she yet know how he loves her, Iwonder?" Then, her face growing graver, "she won't be long in makingthat discovery now."
She took up Clarence Vaughan's letter, almost dreading to break theseal.
MY BRAVE LITTLE SISTER:
You perceive, I have commenced my tyranny. And instead of being able to grant favors to my new sister, I am reduced to the necessity of begging them at her hands. In a word, I want to come to Bellair. Not to be a meddlesome adviser; I am too firmly a convert to your method of procedure for that. Besides, I should have to declare war upon Miss Keith if I presumed thus far. But I do desire to further your plans, and to this end would make a suggestion that has occurred to me since hearing of your marvelous detective work.
Believe me, I cannot express the admiration I feel for your daring and tact. I have no longer the faintest scruple as to trusting this issue, so important to all of us, in your hands. And I am more than proud of such a sister.
May I come to Bellair, say on Monday next? I will stop at the little station a few miles this side of the village, and walk or drive over, and find my way to the cottage of your old nurse, where you can meet me, unless you have a better place to suggest. I shall anxiously await your answer, and am your brother to command.
C. E. VAUGHAN.
Madeline's cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining.
"How they all trust me!" she ejaculated; "and they always shall. Iwill never be false to their friendship; no, not if to serve them myheart's blood must become wormwood and gall."
She re-read all her letters, but would not allow herself to linger toolong over that of Clarence Vaughan. She had resolved to have no moreweakness, no more outbreaks of passion. She was very stern withherself. Even as a friend and brother, she would not allow herthoughts to dwell too much upon him, until she grew stronger, and moreperfect in her renunciation.
Then she sat down at her humble little table, and answered herletters.
To Olive she wrote a sweet, cheery note, telling of her gratitude, heraffection, her hope for the future; and then she added a womanlike P.S. as follows:
Please say to Doctor Vaughan that I will be at Hagar's cottage on Monday evening, but can't tell the precise time I may be able to appear. If he follows the main road through the village, until he has passed the grounds of Oakley, he will have no difficulty in finding the cottage. It stands alone, almost in the middle of a field, facing the west, and is the first habitation after Oakley.
"I cannot write to him," she said; "at least not now."
Then she wrote Claire a long, cheery letter, saying little of herself,and much of her friends,--of all save Doctor Vaughan. She _would_ notmention him tenderly, she _could_ not mention him lightly; so shewould say of him nothing at all.
But if Madeline was astute, Claire, too, was beginning to develop thatquality. So when the latter young lady read this letter, she smiledand said: "The dear little hypocrite! As if she could deceive me bythis evidently studied neglect. Oh! you proud, stiff-necked, littledetective!"
And their game of cross purposes went on.
Madeline had sealed her letters, and was about to reach for her hatpreparatory to hastening with them to the post office, when herattention was arrested by a sound, slight but unusual, and not faraway. She stood erect, silent, motionless, listening intently.Presently the sound was repeated, and then a look of intelligencepassed over the girl's face.
"Some one is in the deserted rooms," she thought. And she abandonedfor the present her purpose of going out.
There was but one way to approach the closed-up rooms, and that wayled past the door of Madeline's room.
A few paces beyond her door, the hall connecting the west wing withthe more modern portion, made a sharp curve and opened into the mainhall of that floor. Celine Leroque opened her door cautiously, havingfirst donned her not very becoming walking attire. Then she took upher position just outside the angle of the western hall, and so closeto it that if an approach was made from below, she could easily retirebehind the angle.
"She stood erect, silent, motionless."--page 248.]
She had grown heartily tired of her sentinel task when, at last, asoft rustle was heard near at hand. Celine turned so quickly into thenarrower hall that she fairly ran upon and stopped--Mrs. John Arthur!who uttered a sharp exclamat
ion expressive of surprise and annoyance.
Celine poured forth a mixture of French and English, expressive of hercontrition and horror at having "almost overturned madame," and woundup by saying, "Madame has been to my room? Madame has desired someservice, perhaps? If so, she has only to command."
Cora drew a breath of relief, having sufficiently recovered from thecollision and accompanying confusion, to draw a breath of any kind,and at once rallied her forces.
"Yes, Celine, I wanted you to do something for me, if you will."
"Anything, madame."
Madame was collecting her thoughts. "I--I wanted to ask if you couldfind time to come to my room and try and do something with my hair.Your hair-dressing is perfect, and I am so tired of my own."
Celine would be only too happy. Should she come now? She had justreturned from the village; she would put off her hat and be atmadame's disposal. But madame was not inclined to be manipulated justthen. Celine might come to her dressing room and do her hair fordinner--after she was done with Miss Arthur, of course.
So they separated, mutually satisfied.