CHAPTER XLIV.
A FRESH COMPLICATION.
On leaving so abruptly the companionship of Dr. Vaughan, Claire rushedstraight to her room. Closing and locking the door, she flung herselfdown upon a couch and indulged in a hearty cry. She was at once happyand sorry, angry and pleased. Presently, Claire sat up and began toreview things more calmly.
"What a wretched little dunce I am!" she soliloquized. "And what musthe think of me! Well!" with a little sigh, "the worse his opinion ofme, the better for Madeline. And here I am this minute, in spite ofmyself, actually rejoicing in my heart because he has not done thevery thing I have resolved that he should do. But he never will knowit. Neither shall any one else. I won't give him another chance totalk to me; no, not if I have to take to my heels ten times a day.It's only right that I should give him up; I, indeed, who fanciedmyself in love with a white-handed, yellow-haired villain."
At this point in her meditations, some one rapped softly at her door.
"Claire, dear," said a soft voice, "open your door; I want to comein."
It was Mrs. Ralston, and Claire advanced slowly and turned the key inthe lock.
"I--I thought it was somebody else," she said, hypocritically. "Comein, Mrs. Ralston."
Thus invited, the lady entered. Without making a comment on thedisturbed appearance of her young friend, she crossed to the window,and sitting down in a cosy dressing-chair, said: "Come directly here,young lady, and sit down on that ottoman."
Looking somewhat surprised, the girl obeyed.
"Claire, my child, I have a confession to make. I was in the librarywhile you sang: 'When sparrows build.'"
The girl's cheek flushed and then paled; but she made no answer.
"And," pursued Mrs. Ralston, "I heard more than your song."
No reply.
"And more than your words!"
"More than--my--my words?"
"Yes; I heard your heart's secret."
Claire's face drooped. "What do you mean?" she asked, deprecatingly.
"My darling, I mean that your heart spoke through your voice, and itbelied your words. Why did you deny your love for so noble a man?"
Claire raised her head. "I didn't!" she said, suddenly, as if drivento bay.
"No," smiled Mrs. Ralston. "You were a wily little serpent. But youdeceived him."
"I don't care," doggedly.
"Now you are telling a fib!"
"Well, I am not sorry, then," getting hold of her monitor's hand. "Whydo you turn against poor me, when I am trying to do my duty?"
"Because you are not doing your duty."
"Yes, I am; indeed, I am. You don't know."
"Then tell me, and let me be your friend and adviser."
"But you can't advise," objected Claire, "because you don't knowthe--the other one."
"Well, I do know you."
"There it is!" burst forth the champion of the absent. "You know me,but you don't know what a worthless, unattractive little imp I amcompared to her. You don't know her, but you shall! And when you do,poor me will have to take a seat lower down in the tabernacle of youraffections."
"I wonder if this 'other' would so readily resign her lover to you?"she said.
"Would she!" flashed Claire. "Would she _not_? Has she not? Ah, if youknew her, you would never say that!" Then suddenly capturing the otherhand of the lady, she said, in quieter but very grave tones: "Can youlisten to a long story, Mrs. Ralston; rather to several storiescombined in one? I am going to tell you what I have so much wanted youto know--the story of Madeline Payne."
Mrs. Ralston expressed her more than willingness to hear all thatClaire had to tell, and the girl settled down comfortably on theottoman at the feet of her friend, and began at the beginning. It wasindeed a long story, for Claire omitted nothing. As she told howMadeline had exposed to her the baseness of Percy, Mrs. Ralstonstarted up, her face pale as death, and then sank back in her chair.
"Percy!" she cried. "What--what is his other name?"
Claire stared at her in amazement. "What is it, Mrs. Ralston--you areill?"
"No," almost gasped the lady; "tell me--his name."
"I did not intend to speak his name," Claire said, slowly. "It isEdward Percy."
Mrs. Ralston was on her feet in an instant, her face flushing withexcitement. "Come with me!" she almost shrieked. "Quick! to my room."
Wondering vaguely, Claire followed.
Mrs. Ralston almost flew to her apartment. She flung open the door,and in an instant was on her knees beside a trunk, opening trays andsearching for something eagerly.
"Look!" she cried, suddenly thrusting out something toward Claire;something from which she averted her own face. "Look, did you ever seethat face?"
The girl gave one glance and uttered a sharp cry. It was a miniaturepainted on ivory; painted years ago, but she knew it only too well.
Mrs. Ralston regained her feet, trembling so that she could scarcelystand.
"Where did you get it?" cried Claire. "It is he; Edward Percy!"
Mrs. Ralston started forward and took the picture from her hand. "_Itis my husband!_" she whispered.
With the words on her lips, she fell heavily to the floor, in a deadfaint.
When Mrs. Ralston awoke to consciousness, she was lying upon her bed,with Dr. Vaughan bending over her, Olive standing near, and Claire alittle aloof, looking pale and anxious. Her first thought was of thepicture.
"Where is it?" she murmured, addressing Claire, who stepped forwardeagerly.
"It is here, dear Mrs. Ralston," said Claire. "I caught it from yourhand after you fell. I thought--" And then she hesitated.
"I understand," she said, looking at the girl fixedly. "Drop it fromyour hand, Claire; drop it _there_," pointing to the grate. "It hasdone its work; we need never look upon it again."
Claire obeyed her silently. For the second time she had consigned tothe flames the pictured face of Edward Percy.
To the surprise of the three who had so lately seen her coming slowlyback from the swoon, so like death, Mrs. Ralston raised herself to asitting posture, and then slowly arose from the bed and stood uprightbefore them, and there was a flush on her cheek, and a light in hereyes that was new to that usually pale, sad face.
"Dear friends," she said, turning toward Clarence and Olive, who hadbeen watching the burning of the picture with surprised and somewhatcurious eyes, "I am quite recovered; and I want to think. Will youplease leave me alone, quite alone, for a little while?"
Olive, Claire and Clarence went slowly and silently down to thedrawing-room, Claire keeping very close to her sister and carefullyavoiding the eyes of the young man. Seating herself beside Olive,Claire told, in her own way, all that she knew of the affair.
"I wanted to tell Mrs. Ralston of Madeline," she commenced, "and, notto omit anything, I told her poor Philip's story,--all about the twomen, and how the man, Percy, had appeared at Oakley as the lover ofMiss Arthur. When I spoke his name, she ran to her room, almostdragging me with her, and--"
Suddenly she paused, horrified at a sudden thought. How could sheexplain to these two, who knew nothing of her "affair" with EdwardPercy--who did not dream that she had ever seen his face--her abilityto recognize the picture Mrs. Ralston had shown her?
"And?" interrogated Olive.
Clarence Vaughan saw that there was a reason for her hesitation, andwhile wondering what it could be, came to her rescue. "And fainted, ofcourse," said he. "Well, she is better now, and perhaps we shall hearthe conclusion of the mystery all in good time."
If she had dared, Claire would have given him a glance of gratitude.As it was, she only averted her face and felt herself a greathypocrite.
Doctor Vaughan was to remain for lunch; and while he talked quietlywith Olive, Claire sat considering what they would say if they knewall. Presently her reverie was interrupted by the entrance of aservant, who said:
"Mrs. Ralston wishes Miss Keith to come to her."
Claire started up, and without a word to
either her lover or hersister, hurried into the presence of her friend.
Mrs. Ralston advanced to meet the girl as she entered the room, andlaying a hand upon her shoulder, said: "I understood you to say thatyour sister knows nothing of your acquaintance with that man. Am Iright?
"Yes."
"And you do not wish her to know?"
Claire hesitated. "I did not then think it was wrong to conceal itfrom her," she said, finally; "but now, if you think it best, I willtry and tell her."
"But I do not think it best, my darling. I should have been convincedof his identity even had I not used the picture as a test. We will saynothing on that subject. And now, let us go down-stairs, for we havework to do!"
So saying, she led the way from the room and Claire followed,wondering how all this was to end.
Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter Page 45