CHAPTER IX
THE MEETING
Graydon had completed his final transactions abroad with moreexpedition than he had anticipated, and, having been favored by aquick passage, had arrived several days sooner than he was expected.Therefore he decided to accompany his brother to the Catskillson Saturday, spending the intervening time in business and sucharrangements as would leave him free to remain in the country for aweek or two. The second evening after his arrival again found him inMiss Wildmere's parlor, and before he left he was given to understandthat Mrs. Wildmere had decided upon the Under-Cliff House also, andthat they would depart on Saturday.
"Then you will be _compagnon de voyage_," said Graydon, withundisguised pleasure.
Somewhat to Mrs. Wildmere's surprise, her husband quietly acquiescedin his daughter's wishes, telegraphed for rooms, and desired his wifeto be ready.
She was a quiet, meek little woman, whose life had somehow becomeentangled in a sphere which was not in harmony with her nature. Herbeauty had faded early, and she had little force of character withwhich to maintain her influence over her husband. His life was amid thefierce excitements of Wall Street; hers, as far as she had a life,was a weary effort to keep up appearances and meet the expenses of afashionable daughter, on an uncertain and greatly fluctuating income.
Mr. Wildmere informed her that his affairs would keep him in townuntil late in the following week, but that, as the house to which shewas going was a quiet family hotel, she would have no trouble.
Mr. Muir had telegraphed the arrival of his brother, and the latterhad written a few cordial but hasty lines to both his sister-in-lawand Madge. Where he spent his evenings was unknown to Mr. Muir, butthat gentleman had little trouble in guessing when he saw his brothergreet the Wildmeres as if he understood their plans, and laughinglypromise Mr. Wildmere that he would see the ladies and their belongingssafely established in the Under-Cliff House. Graydon observed theslight cloud on his brother's face, but ignored it, feeling thathis preference was an affair of his own. He believed that thelong-wished-for opportunity to press his suit with vigor had come,and had no hesitation as to his purpose. He did not intend to actprecipitately, however. He would first learn just how Mr. Arnaultstood, and become reasonably assured by Miss Wildmere's manner towardhimself that her preference was not a hope, but a reality.
The enterprise in which Mr. Muir had engaged, and which now so taxedhis financial strength, was outside of his regular business, andGraydon knew nothing of it. The young man believed that his own meansand exceptionally good prospects were sufficient to warrant the stephe proposed to take. He assuredly had the right to please himself inhis choice, and he felt that he would be fortunate indeed could he winone whom so many had sought in vain.
It never entered Mr. Muir's mind to interpose any authority or undueinfluence. He merely felt in regard to the matter a repugnance naturalto one so alien in disposition to Mr. Wildmere and his daughter,and it was a source of bitter mortification to him that he now foundhimself in a position not unlike that of the broker, in whatwould appear, in the present aspect of affairs, to be an outsidespeculation. During the ride to the mountains he mentally comparedMiss Wildmere's behavior with that of Madge a week before. WitnessingGraydon's evident infatuation, he would have been glad to recognizeany manifestation of traits that promised well for his future; but theyoung lady was evidently altogether occupied with the attentionsshe received, her own beauty, and the furtive admiration offellow-passengers. Poor Mrs. Wildmere and the nurse were left tomanage the cross baby as best they could. Graydon once or twice triedto do something, but his strange face and voice only frightened thechild.
To Madge it had seemed an age since the telegram announcing Graydon'sarrival had thrilled every nerve with hope and fear. Then had come hishasty note, proving conclusively his affectionate indifference. Shewas simply Madge to him, as of old. He was the one man of all theworld to her, and no calculating "if" would be the source of herrestraint.
True to her old tactics, however, she had spent no time in idledreaming. She had cultivated Dr. Sommers's acquaintance, and he hadalready accompanied her and her sister through a wild valley, on theoccasion of a visit to one of his patients. Little Jack had improvedunder his care, and Mrs. Muir was growing serene, rested, and eagerfor Saturday. Madge shared her impatience, and yet dreaded the hourduring which she felt that a glimpse of the future would be revealed.She had driven out daily with her sister, and familiarized herselfwith the topography of the region. Having formed the acquaintance ofsome pleasant and comparatively active people in the house, she hadjoined such walking expeditions as they would venture upon. In rowingthe children upon a small lake she also disposed of some of hersuperabundant vitality and the nervous excitement which anticipationcould not fail to produce. In the evening there was more or lessdancing, and her hand was eagerly sought by such of the young men ascould obtain the right to ask it. Mrs. Muir's remark that she wouldbecome a belle in spite of herself proved true; but while she affectedno exclusive or distant airs, the most callow and forward youthfelt at once the restraint of her fine reserve. Her sensitive natureenabled her, in a place of public resort, to know instinctively whomto keep at a distance, and who, like Dr. Sommers, not only invited butjustified a frank and friendly manner.
As the time for the gentlemen to arrive approached, Mrs. Muir showedmore restless interest than Madge. The one anticipated a bit ofamusement over Graydon's surprise; the other looked forward to meetingher fate. Mrs. Muir was garrulous; Madge was comparatively silent, andmaintained the semblance of interest in a book so naturally that hersister exclaimed, "I expect you will die with a book in your hand! Icould no more read now than preach a sermon. Come, it's time tomake your toilet. Let me help you, and I want you to get yourself up'perfectly regardless.' You must outshine them all at the hop thisevening."
"Nonsense, Mary! They won't be here for an hour and a half. I'mgoing to lie down;" and she went to her room. When her sister soughtadmittance half an hour later the door was locked and all was quiet.At last, in her impatience, she knocked and cried, "Wake up. They willbe here soon."
"I'm not asleep, and it will not take me long to dress."
"Well, you are the coolest young woman I ever knew," Mrs. Muir calledout, finding that admittance was denied her.
Madge had determined to spend the final hour of her long separationalone. Her nature had become too deep and strong to seek trivialdiversion from the suspense that weighed upon her spirit. As shethought of the possibility of failure, and its results, her couragefaltered a little, and a few tears would come. At last, with a glanceheavenward which proved that there was nothing in her heart to keepher from looking thither for sanction, she left her room, serene andresolute. She had taken her woman's destiny into her own hand, to moldit in her own way, but in no arrogant and unbelieving spirit.
Mrs. Muir uttered a disappointed protest. "Oh, Madge, how plainly youare dressed!"
"I knew you wouldn't like it at first," was the quiet reply. By thetime they had reached the parlor door opposite the office, near whichthey proposed to wait for the travellers, now momentarily expected,Mrs. Muir was compelled to acknowledge the correctness of Madge'staste. Her costume no more distracted attention from herself thanwould the infolding calyx of a rosebud. In its exquisite proportionsher fine figure was outlined by close white drapery, which made herappear taller than she really was. A single half-open Jacqueminotrose, like the one she had sent to Graydon at their parting over twoyears since, was fastened on her bosom. Her dark eyes burned with asuppressed excitement. Her complexion, if not so white as that of MissWildmere, was pure, and had a richer hue of health. But she waspale now. Her red lips half destroyed their exquisite curves in firmcompression. The moment had not quite come for action, when those lipsmust be true to herself, true to her purpose, even while they spokewords which might be misleading to others.
Mrs. Muir, with triumph, saw the glances of strong admiration turnedtoward her sister from every side. Madge saw th
em also, but only toread in them the verdict she hoped to obtain from the kind blue eyesfor whose coming she waited.
Standing with Mrs. Muir, facing the long hall down which Graydon mustadvance, she knew she would see him before he could recognize her.How much of longing, of breathless interest, would be concentratedin those moments of waiting, she herself had never imagined till theywere passing.
The stages began to arrive, with consequent bustle, and the hastyadvance toward the office of men seeking to register their namesearly, in order to secure a choice of rooms. At last she saw Graydon'stall form and laughing face, and for a second something approachingto faintness caused her to close her eyes. When she opened them againthey rested upon Miss Wildmere.
This young lady understood the art of making an impressive and almosttriumphal entry on new scenes. Therefore she had been in no haste.Indeed, haste had no place among her attributes: it was ungraceful andusually not effective. When, therefore, the crowd had passed on, andthere was a comparatively clear space in the hall, she advanced downit at Graydon's side as if her mind was wholly engrossed with theirlively chat. Never for a second was she unconscious of the attentionthey attracted. Graydon was one at whom even men would turn and lookas he passed, and she believed that there was none other who couldkeep step with him like herself. So thought the self-appointedcommittee of reception who always regard curiously the new-comers at asummer resort, and there were whispered notes of admiration as the twopaused for a moment before the register and looked back. Then itwas seen that a meek-looking little lady and a nurse and child werestraggling after them, while Mr. Muir brought up the rear. Graydonhad some light wraps thrown gracefully over his arm, but the merchantcarried the less ornamental _impedimenta_ of the party, for theearlier guests had already overladened the office-boys. He now handedthe valise--a sort of tender upon the baby--to a porter, and rathergrimly acknowledged Mrs. Wildmere's mingled thanks and feebleprotestations.
"Please register for us," said Miss Wildmere, glancing carelessly yetobservantly around. An intervening group had partially hidden Madgeand her sister. It was also evident that Graydon was too much occupiedwith his fair companion to look far away. He complied, thinking,meantime, "Some day I may register for her again, and then my namewill suffice for us both." The smile which followed the thoughtbrought out the best lines of his handsome profile to poor Madge, whopermitted no phase of expression on that face to escape her scrutiny.So true was the clairvoyance of her intense interest that she guessedthe thought which was so agreeable to him, and she grew paler still.
Mr. Muir hastened to greet his wife, and then Graydon recognized her.He came at once and kissed her in his accustomed hearty way. Madgestood near, unnoted, unrecognized.
"Where's Madge? Isn't she well enough to come down?" he asked, hiseyes following Miss Wildmere, who had entered the parlor, whichshe must cross to reach her room beyond. Mrs. Muir began to laughimmoderately, and Mr. Muir followed his brother's eyes with vexation.Graydon was on the _qui vive_ instantly, and Madge drew a step nearerand began to smile. For once the punctilious and elegant Graydonforgot his courtesy, and looked at Madge in utter astonishment--anexpression, however, which passed swiftly into admiration and delight.
"Madge!" he exclaimed, seizing both her hands. "I couldn't havebelieved it. I wouldn't believe it now but for your eyes;" and beforeshe could prevent him he had placed a kiss upon her lips.
Miss Wildmere had seen the unknown beauty as she passed, hadinventoried her with woman's instantaneous perception, had paused onthe distant threshold and seen the greeting, then had vanished with avindictive flash in her gray eyes.
Graydon's impetuous words and salute had produced smiles and enviousglances, and the family party withdrew into a retired corner of theapartment, Madge's cheeks, meanwhile, vying, in spite of herself, withthe rose on her breast. Graydon would not relinquish her hand, and,as Mrs. Muir had predicted, indulged in little more than exclamationpoints.
"There now, be rational," cried the young girl, laughing, her heartfor the moment full of gladness and triumph. He was indeed bendingupon her looks of admiration, delight, and affection.
"Why have I been kept in the dark about all this?" he at last asked,incoherently.
"For the same reason that we were. Madge meant to give us a surprise,and succeeded. I couldn't get over it, and they were always laughingat me, so I determined that I should have my laugh at you. Oh, wasn'tit rich? To think of the elegant and travelled society man standingthere staring with his eyes and mouth wide open!"
"I don't think it was quite so bad as that, but if it was there's goodreason for it. Tell me, Madge, how this miracle was wrought!"
"There, that's just what I called it," cried Mrs. Muir, "and it'snothing less than one, in spite of all that Madge and Henry can say."
"When you are ready for supper I will show you one phase of themiracle," said Madge, laughing, with glad music in her voice. "Come,I'm not an escaped member of a menagerie, and there's no occasion foryou to stare any longer."
"Yes, come along," added Mr. Muir; "I've had no roast beef to-day anda surfeit of sentiment."
The young fellow colored slightly, but said brusquely: "Men's tasteschange with age. I suppose you did not find a little sentiment amissonce upon a time. Well, Madge, you are not a bit of a ghost now, yet Ifear you are an illusion."
"Illusions will vanish when you come to help me at supper. We willwait for you on the piazza."
As she paced its wide extent, her illusions also vanished. Graydon hadgreeted, her as a brother, and a brother only. When the tumult ather heart subsided, this truth stood out most clearly. His kiss stilltingled upon her lips. It must be the last, unless followed by a kissof love. Their brotherly and sisterly relations must be shattered atonce. No such relations existed for her, and only as she destroyedsuch regard on his part could a tenderer affection take its place.With her as his sister he would be content; he might not readily thinkof her in another light, and meantime might drift swiftly into anengagement with Miss Wildmere.
A Young Girl's Wooing Page 9