CHAPTER X.
"THE GIRL IS DOOMED!--SHE HAS SEALED HER OWN FATE!"
Edith looked very lovely when her toilet for the evening wascompleted.
We have never seen her in any but very ordinary costumes, for she hadworn mourning for her dear ones for two years, but if she wasattractive in these somber garments, symbols of her sorrows, she was ahundred-fold more so in the spotless and dainty dress which was almostthe only souvenir that she possessed of those happy, beautiful dayswhen she had lived in a Fifth avenue palace, and was the petteddarling of fortune.
There was not a single ornament about her, excepting the pretty chainand diamond-hearted shamrock which Mrs. Weld had that evening given toher, and which she had involuntarily kissed before clasping it abouther neck.
Mrs. Goddard had commissioned her to superintend the dressing-rooms,to see that the maids provided everything needful for the comfort ofher guests and to look in upon them occasionally and ascertain ifthey were attending to their duties, until everybody had arrived;after which she was to come to her behind the scenes in thecarriage-house.
Thus, after her toilet was completed, she descended to the secondfloor, to see that these orders were carried out.
In the ladies' dressing-rooms, she found everything in the nicestpossible order, and then passed on to those allotted to the gentlemen,in one of which she found that the maids had neglected to providedrinking water.
She was upon the point of leaving the room to have the matter attendedto, when Mr. Goddard, attired in full evening dress, even to gloves,entered.
"Where is Mollie?" he inquired, but with a visible start of surprise,as he noticed Edith's exceeding loveliness.
"I think she is in one of the other rooms," she replied. "Shall I callher for you?"
"Yes, if you please; or--" with a lingering glance ofadmiration--"perhaps you will help me with these gloves. I find ittroublesome to button them."
"Certainly," replied the young girl, but flushing beneath his look,and, taking the silver button-hook from him, she proceeded to performthe simple service for him, but noticed, while doing so, the taint ofliquor on his breath.
"Thank you," he said, appreciatively, when the last button wasfastened. Then bending lower to look into her eyes, he added, softly:"How lovely you are to-night, Miss Edith!"
She drew herself away from him, with an air of offended dignity, andwould have passed from the room had he not placed himself directly inher way, thus cutting off her escape.
"Nay, nay, pretty one; do not be so shy of me," he went on,insinuatingly. "Why have you avoided me of late? We have not had oneof our cozy social chats for a long time. Did madam's unreasonable fitof jealousy that day in the library frighten you? Pray, do not mindher--she has always been like that ever since--well, for many years."
"Mr. Goddard! I beg you will cease. I cannot listen to you!" criedEdith. "Let me pass, if you please. I have an order to give one of thehousemaids."
"Tut! tut! little one; the order can wait, and it is not kind of youto fly at me like that. I have been drawn toward you ever since youcame into the family, and every day only serves to strengthen thespell that you have been weaving about me. Come now, tell me that youwill try to return my fondness for you--"
"Mr. Goddard! what is the meaning of this strange language? You haveno right to address me thus; it is an insult to me--a wicked wrongagainst your wife--"
"My wife!" the man burst forth, mockingly, and with a strangely bitterlaugh.
A frown contracted his brow, and his lips were compressed into avindictive line, as he again bent toward the fair girl.
"I do not love her," he said, hoarsely; "she has killed all myaffection for her by her infernally variable moods, her jealousy, hervanity, and her inordinate passion for worldly pleasure, to theexclusion of all home responsibilities. Moreover--"
"I must not listen to you! Oh! let me go!" cried Edith, in a voice ofdistress.
Before Edith was aware of his intention, he bent his lips close to herface, and whispered something, in swift sentences, that made hershrink from him with a sudden cry of mingled pain and dismay, andcover her ears with her pretty hands.
"I do not believe it!" she panted; "oh! I cannot believe it. I am sureyou do not know what you are saying, Mr. Goddard."
Her words appeared to arouse him to a sense of the fact that he wascompromising himself most miserably in her estimation.
"No, I don't suppose you can," he muttered, a half-dazed expression onhis face; "and I've no business to be telling you any such things.But, all the same, I am very fond of you, pretty one, and I do notbelieve this is any place for you. You are too fair and sweet toserve a woman with such a disposition as madam possesses, and I wishyou would leave her when we go back to the city. I know you are poor,and have no friends upon whom you can depend; but I would settle acomfortable annuity upon you, so that you could be independent, andmake a pretty little home for your--"
"How dare you talk to me like this? Do you think I have no pride--noself-respect?" Edith demanded, as she haughtily threw back her proudhead and confronted the man with blazing eyes.
Her act and the flash of the diamond attracted his attention to thelittle chain and shamrock upon her breast.
The sight seemed to paralyze him for a moment, for he stood like oneturned to marble.
"Where did you get it?" he at last demanded, in a scarcely, audiblevoice, as he pointed a trembling finger at the jewel. "Tell me!--tellme! how came you by it?"
Edith regarded him with astonishment.
Involuntarily she put up her hand and covered the ornament from hisgaze.
"It was given to me," she briefly replied.
"Who gave it to you?"
"A friend."
"Was it your--a relative?" cried the man, in a hoarse whisper.
"No, it was simply a friend."
"Tell me who!"
Edith thought a moment. If she should tell Mr. Goddard that theshamrock had been given to her by the housekeeper, it might subjectthe woman to an unpleasant interview with the master of the house,and, perhaps, place her in a very awkward position.
She resolved upon the only course left--that of refusing to reveal thename of the giver.
"All that I can tell you, Mr. Goddard," she gravely said, at last, "isthat the chain and ornament were given to me very recently by an agedfriend--"
"Aged!" the man interposed, eagerly.
"Yes, by a person who must be at least sixty years of age," the younggirl replied.
"Ah!" The ejaculation was one of supreme relief. "Excuse me, MissAllen!" he continued, in a more natural manner than he had yet spoken."I did not mean to be curious, but--a--a person whom I once knew hadan ornament very similar to the one you wear--"
He was interrupted just at this point by the sound of a rich, mellowlaugh that echoed down the hall like a strain of sweetest music;whereupon Gerald Goddard jumped as if some one had dealt him a heavyblow on the back.
"Good Heaven! who was that?" he cried, with livid lips.
But Edith, taking advantage of the diversion, glided swiftly from theroom, telling herself that nothing could induce her to dwell with thefamily a single day after their return to the city, and that she wouldtake care not to come in contact with Mr. Goddard again--at least tobe alone with him--while she did remain with his wife.
The man stood motionless for a moment after her departure, as ifwaiting for the sound, which had so startled him, to be repeated.
But it was not, and going to the door, he peered into the hall to seewho was there.
There was no one visible save the housekeeper, who just at thatmoment, accosted a housemaid, to whom she appeared to be giving somedirections.
"Ah! it was only one of the guests," he muttered, "but the voice waswonderfully like--like--Ugh!"
He waited a few moments longer, trying to compose his nerves, whichhad been sadly unstrung, both by the wine he had drank in much largerquantities than usual, and the incidents that had just occurred, an
dthen sought his own room, where he rang for a brandy-and-soda, andafter taking it, went below to attend to his duties as host.
But neither he nor Edith dreamed that their recent interview had beenobserved by a third party, or had seen the white, convulsed face thathad been looking in upon them, between the blinds at one of thewindows, near which they had been standing.
Anna Goddard had sought her own room, directly after dinner, to makesome little change in her toilet, and get her gloves, which she hadleft lying upon her dressing case.
As she opened the door of her boudoir she came very near givingutterance to a scream of fear upon coming face to face with a man.
The man was Emil Correlli, who had gained entrance to the apartment byclimbing the vine trellis which led to the window. His secret returnwas in accordance with a plan previously agreed upon.
He informed his sister that he had sent a card of invitation to Mrs.Stewart of the Copley Square Hotel.
"I am glad you did," she responded; "I have long desired to meet her."
They then proceeded to discuss the important event of the evening, andMrs. Goddard assured him that their plot was progressing admirably.Still, she manifested a twinge of remorse as she thought of thedespicable trick she had devised against the fair girl whom herbrother was so eager to possess.
"Anna, you must not fail me now!" he exclaimed, "or I will neverforgive you! The girl must be mine, or--"
"Hush!" she interposed, holding up her finger to check him. "Did someone knock?"
"I heard nothing."
"Wait, I will see," she said, and cautiously opened the door. No onewas there.
"It was only a false alarm," she murmured, glancing down the hall;then she started, as if stung, as she caught sight of two figures inthe room diagonally opposite hers.
Her face grew ghastly, but her eyes blazed with a tiger-like ferocity.
She closed the door noiselessly, then with stealthy, cat-likemovements, she stole toward the French door, leading out upon theveranda, throwing a long mantle over her light dress and bareshoulders. Then she passed out, and crept along the veranda toward awindow of the room where her husband and Edith were talking.
She could see them distinctly through the slats of the blinds, whichwere movable--could see the man bending toward the graceful girl, whomshe had never seen so beautiful as now, his face eager, a wistfullight burning in his eyes, while his lips moved rapidly with the talethat he was pouring into her ears.
She could not hear a word, but her jealous heart imputed the veryworst to him.
She could see that Edith repudiated him--that she was indignant anddismayed; but this circumstance did not soothe her in the least.
It was enough to arouse all the worst elements of her fiery nature toknow that the girl's charms were alluring the man whom she worshiped,and a very demon of jealousy and hatred possessed her.
She watched them until she saw her husband give that guilty start, ofwhich Edith took advantage to escape, and then, her hands clencheduntil the nails almost pierced the tender flesh, her lipsconvulsed--her whole face distorted with passion and pain, she turnedfrom the spot.
"I have no longer any conscience," she hissed, as she sped swiftlyback to her room. "The girl is doomed--she has sealed her own fate. Asfor him--if I did not love him so, I would--"
A shudder completed her sentence, but smoothing her face, she removedher wraps, and went to tell her brother that she must go below, butwould have his dinner sent up immediately.
Then drawing on her gloves, she hastened down to join her guests inthe drawing-room.
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