CHAPTER XV
PERPLEXED AND BEGUILED
Madge was so discouraged that she contented herself with a manner oflistless apathy during dinner, and then retired to her room. Graydonwas giving her so little thought that there was slight occasion fordisguise, and less incentive for effort to interest him.
"The struggle promises to be short and decisive," she moaned. "Perhapsit has been already decided. I had no chance after all. He came herefully committed in his own thoughts to Miss Wildmere. I have merelylost my old place in his affection, and have had and shall have noopportunity to win his love. If this is to be my fate it is well todiscover it so speedily, and not after weeks of torturing hopeand fear. I'll learn the truth with absolute certainty as soon aspossible, and then find a pretext to join the Waylands."
At last the fatigue of the morning brought the respite of sleep, andwhen she waked she found late evening shadows in her room, and learnedthat Mr. Muir had arrived, it being his purpose to spend the Fourthand the remainder of the week with his family.
Weariness and despondency are near akin, and in banishing one Madgefound herself better able to cope with the other. At any rate, shedetermined to show no weakness. If Graydon would never love her heshould at least be compelled to respect and admire her, and he shouldnever have cause to surmise the heart-poverty to which she was doomed.Still less would she give her proud rival a chance to wound her again.Miss Wildmere might make Graydon's devotion as ostentatious as shepleased, but should never again detect on Madge's face a look ofpained surprise and solicitude.
She made a careful toilet for the evening, telling Mr. Muir and hersister not to wait for her, as she had overslept herself.
"Where is Madge?" Graydon asked, at the supper-table.
"She did not wake up in time to come down with us," Mrs. Muir replied."What does it matter? Miss Wildmere so fills your eyes that you see noone else. When is it to be, Graydon?"
"Madge evidently sees quite as much of me as she cares to," hereplied, somewhat irritably. "I have not asked when it's to be orwhether it's to be at all. I suppose," he added, satirically, "that inconsideration of my extreme youth I should obtain permission from myfamily before venturing to ask anything."
"That remark is absurd and uncalled for," Mr. Muir replied, gravely."Of course you will please yourself, as I did, and we shall make thebest of it. But you have no right to expect that we shall see the ladywith your eyes. I cannot help seeing her as she is. I do not like her,but if you choose to marry her, rest assured I shall give neither ofyou cause for complaint. Now, according to my custom, I've had my say.You could not expect me, as your brother, to be indifferent; stillless could I pretend an approval that I don't feel; but I recognizethat you are as free as I was when Mary's suitor, and I do not thinkyou can reasonably ask more. Our relations are too intimate formisunderstanding. You know that, in my present plans and hopes, Ilooked forward to receiving you as a partner at no distant time, ifsuch purposes are carried out our interests must always be identical."
"Pardon me, Henry," said Graydon, warmly, "and do not misunderstand myhasty words. I know you have my best welfare at heart--you have everproved that--but you misjudge my choice. Even Mary begins to see thatyou do, and woman's insight is keener than man's. You attribute to thedaughter the qualities you dislike in the father. Is it nothing thatshe has waited for me during my long absence, when she could pick andchoose from so many?"
"I'm not sure she has been waiting for you; her manner toward Mr.Arnault yonder suggests that she may still pick and choose."
"Bah! I'm not afraid of him. She could have taken him long since hadshe so wished."
Others who had seats at the table now approached, and preventedfurther interchange of words on so delicate a subject. NeverthelessMr. Muir's arrow had not flown wide of the mark, and Graydon thoughtthat Miss Wildmere was unnecessarily cordial toward his rival, andthat Mr. Wildmere, who had also come from the city, was decidedlycomplacent over the fact.
Graydon's furtive observation was now cut short by the entrance ofMadge, and even he was dazzled by a beauty that attracted many eyes.It was not merely a lovely woman who was advancing toward him, but awoman whose nature was profoundly excited. What though she moved inquiet, well-bred grace, and greeted Mr. Muir with natural cordiality?The aroused spiritual element was not wanting in the expression of herface or in the dignity of her carriage. Her deep, suppressed feeling,which bordered on despair; her womanly pride, which would disguiseall suffering at every cost, gave to her presence a subtle power, feltnone the less because intangible. It was evident that she neithersaw nor cared for the strangers who were looking their curiosity andadmiration; and Graydon understood her barely well enough to think,"Something, whatever it may be, makes her unlike other girls. She waslanguidly indifferent at dinner; now she is superbly indifferent. Thismorning and yesterday she was a gay young girl, eager for a mountainscramble or a frolic of any kind. How many more phases will sheexhibit before the week is over?"
Poor Madge could not have answered that question herself. She wasunder the control of one of the chief inspirations of feeling andaction. Moods of which she had never dreamed would become inevitable;thoughts which nothing external could suggest would arise in her ownheart and determine her manner.
In ceasing to hope one also ceases to fear, and Graydon admitted tohimself that he had never before felt the change in Madge so deeply.The weak, timid little girl he had once known now looked as if shecould quietly face anything. The crowded room, the stare of strangers,were simply as if they were not; the approach of a thunder-gust in thesultry evening was unheeded; when a loud peal drowned her voice, shesimply waited till she could be heard again, and then went on withouta tremor in her tones, while all around her people were nervous,starting, and exclaiming. There was not the faintest suggestion ofhigh tragedy in her manner. To a casual observer it was merely thesomewhat proud and cold reserve of a lady in a public place, whileunder the eyes of a strange and miscellaneous assemblage. Graydonimagined that it might veil some resentment because he had beenso remiss in his attentions. He could scarcely maintain this view,however, for she was as cordial to him as to any one, while at thesame time giving the impression that he was scarcely in her thoughtsat all.
Mr. Muir was perplexed also, and watched her with furtive admiration."If she cares for Graydon's neglect she's a superb actress," hethought. "Great Scott! what an idiot he is, that he cannot see thedifference between this grand woman and yonder white-faced speculator!She actually quickens the blood in my veins to-night when she fixesher great black eyes on me."
Graydon felt her power, but believed that there was nothing in itgentle or conciliatory toward himself. Probably her mood resulted froma proud consciousness of her beauty and the triumphs that awaited her.She had been young and gay heretofore with the other young people, butnow that a number of mature men, like Arnault, had appeared upon thescene, she proposed to make a different impression. The embodiment ofher ideal might be among them. "At any rate," he concluded, "shehas the skill to make me feel that I have little place in either herimaginings or hopes, and that for all she cares I may capture MissWildmere as soon as I can. Both of us probably are so far beneath herideals of womanhood and manhood that she can never be friendly toone and is fast losing her interest in the other. She has alreadyvirtually said, 'Our relations are accidental, and if you marry StellaWildmere you need not hope that I shall accept her with open arms asinseparable from one of my best friends.' 'Best friend,' indeed! Eventhat amount of regard was a lingering sentiment of the past. Now thatwe have met again she realizes that we have grown to be comparativestrangers, and that our tastes and interests lie apart."
Thus day after day he had some new and perturbed theory as toMadge, in which pique, infused with cynical philosophy and uttermisapprehension, led to widely varying conclusions. Ardent andimpatient lover of another woman as he was, one thing remainedtrue--he could neither forget nor placidly ignore the girl who hadceased to be his sister, and who yet
was not very successful inplaying the part of a young lady friend.
When the dancing began, the storm was approaching its culmination.More vivid than the light from the chandeliers, the electric flashesdazzled startled eyes with increasing frequency. Miss Wildmere atfirst tried to show cool indifference in the spirit of bravado, andmaintained her place upon the floor with Mr. Arnault and a few others.She soon succumbed, with visible agitation, as a thunderous pealechoed along the sky. Madge danced on with Graydon as if nothing hadoccurred. He only felt that her form grew a little more tense, and sawthat her eyes glowed with suppressed excitement.
"Are you not afraid?" he asked, as soon as his voice could be heard."See, the ladies are scattering or huddling together, while many lookas if the world were coming to an end."
"The world is coming to an end to some every day," she replied.
"That remark is as tragic as it is trite, Madge. What could havesuggested it?"
"Trite remarks cannot have serious causes."
"Account for the tragic phase, then."
"I'm in no mood for tragedy, and commonplace does not needexplanation."
"What kind of mood are you in to-night, Madge? You puzzle me;" and helooked directly into her eyes. At the moment she was facing a window,and a flash of strange brilliancy made every feature luminous. Itseemed to him that he saw her very soul, the spirit she might become,for it is hard to imagine existence without form--form that is inharmony with character. The crash that followed was so terrific thatthey paused and stood confronting each other. The music ceased; criesof terror resounded; but the momentary transfiguration of the girlbefore him had been so strange and so impressive that Graydon forgotall else, and still gazed at her with something like awe in his face.Her lip trembled, for the nervous tension was growing too severe."Why do you look at me so?" she faltered. "What has happened? Is theredanger?"
"What _has_ happened, Madge, that I cannot understand you? Theelectric gleam made you look like an angel of light. Your faceseemed light itself. Are you so true and good, Madge, that such vividradiance brings out no stain or fear? What is it that makes you unlikeothers?" Instinctively he looked toward Miss Wildmere. Her facewas buried in her hands, and Mr. Arnault was bending over her withreassuring words.
Madge felt her self-control departing. "Mary is afraid in athunderstorm," she said, in a low tone. "I'll go to her. She does notfind me so puzzling;" and she hastened away, yet not so swiftly butthat he saw her quivering lip and look of trouble.
He took a few impulsive steps in pursuit, then hesitated and walkedirresolutely down a hallway, that he might have a chance for furtherthought. The alarm and confusion were so great that the little episodehad been unnoted. It had made an impression on Graydon, however, thathe could not shake off readily.
Emotion, if forced, has little power except to repel, but even aglimpse of deep, suppressed feeling haunts the memory, especially ifits cause is half in mystery.
Madge had set her heart on one thing, had worked long and patientlyfor its attainment, had hoped and prayed for it, and within the lastfew hours was feeling the bitterness of defeat. The event she sodreaded seemed inevitable, even if it had not already occurred. Theexpression on Graydon's face when she had first met him after his longramble with Miss Wildmere had been that of a tranquilly happy lover,whose heart was at rest in glad certainty. Why should he not havespoken? what greater encouragement could he ask than the favor sheherself had seen? During his long absence another girl had apparentlybeen waiting for him also, "But not working for him," she sighed, "andkeeping herself aloof from all and everything that would render herless worthy. While I sought to train heart, body, and soul to be a fitbride, she has dallied with every admirer she met, and now wins himwithout one hour of self-denial or effort. It is more bitter thandeath to me. It is cruelty to him, for that selfish girl will nevermake him happy. Even after he marries her he will be only one amongmany, and the ballroom glare will be more to her than the light of herown hearth."
Such thoughts had been in Madge's mind, and self-control had been noeasy matter. When to all had been added the excitement of the stormand his unexpected words, her overstrained nerves gave way. Shewas too desperately unhappy for the common fear which temporarilyoverwhelmed many--the greater swallows up the less--but the storm hadled to words that both wounded and alarmed her. Why did she so perplexhim? What had the lightning's gleam revealed, to be understood whenhe should think it all over? Could the truth of her love, of which shewas so conscious, be detected in spite of her efforts and disguises?Was she doomed, not only to failure and an impoverished life, but alsoto the humiliation of receiving a lifelong, yet somewhat complacentpity from Graydon, and possibly the triumphant scorn of her rival?
With these thoughts surging in her mind she locked herself in her roomand sobbed like the broken-hearted girl she felt herself to be. Thepassing storm was nothing to her. A heavier storm was raging in hersoul, nor had it ceased when the skies without grew cloudless andserene. She at last felt that she must do something to maintain herdisguise. Hearing little Jack crying and Mrs. Muir trying to hush him,she washed her eyes and went to the partially darkened room where thechild was, and said, "Let me take him, Mary, and you go down and seeHenry."
"It's awfully good of you, Madge. The children have been so frightenedthat I've been up here all the evening. You seem to have better luckin quieting Jack than any of us."
"He'll be good with me. Go down at once, and don't worry. You havehardly had a chance to see Henry."
"You will come down again after Jack goes to sleep?"
"Yes, if I feel like it."
Graydon soon discovered Mrs. Muir after she had joined her husband,and asked, "Where is Madge?"
"She has kindly taken the baby so that I can spend a little time withHenry. The children have been frightened, and Jack is very fretful.I'm tired out, and don't know what I should do if it wasn't forMadge."
"Why can't the nurse take him?"
"He won't go to her in these bad moods. Madge can quiet him evenbetter than I. What's the matter that you are so anxious to see Madge?You have seemed abundantly able to amuse yourself without her the lastfew days. Is Mr. Arnault in the way to-night?"
"As if I cared a rap for him!" said Graydon, turning irritably away.
He did care, however, and felt that Miss Wildmere was making too muchuse of the liberty she had provided for. She, like many others, couldbe half hysterical while the violence of the storm lasted, and yet,when quiet was restored, was capable of making a jest of her fearsand the most of a delightful conjunction of affairs, which placed twoeligible men at her beck, to either of whom she could become engagedbefore she slept. The arrival of her father had turned the scaledecidedly in favor of Mr. Arnault, for the latter, without revealinghis transaction with Mr. Muir, had whispered to Mr. Wildmere hisconviction that Henry Muir was borrowing at ruinous interest. Thisinformation accorded with the broker's previous knowledge, and he waseager that his daughter should decide for Arnault at once.
This, however, the wilful girl would not do. She enjoyed the presentcondition of affairs too well, and was not without hope, also, thather father was mistaken; for she felt sure, from Graydon's manner,that he was not aware of his brother's financial peril, and this factinclined her to doubt its existence. She was actuated by the feelingthat she had given much time and encouragement to Graydon, and thatnow Arnault should have his turn. Madge had been invisible since thestorm, and there was nothing to indicate that Graydon was disposed togive her much thought. Miss Wildmere's natural supposition was that heand Madge had been like brother and sister once, and that the form ofthe relation still existed, but that in their long separation they hadgrown somewhat indifferent toward each other. She believed that thesolicitude she had seen in Madge's face, on the evening so memorablein the latter's experience, was due to the jealousy of an immature,sickly girl, who had been so humored as to feel that Graydon belongedto her. She naturally believed that if there had been anythingbeyond this, it would
have been developed by correspondence, or elseindifference on both sides would not now be so palpable. She dislikedMadge chiefly as a rival in beauty and admiration. Nothing could bemore clear than that Graydon was completely under the spell of her ownfascination, and that Madge was receiving even scant fraternal regard.All she feared was, that during the process of keep him "well inhand" he might become more conscious of Madge's attractions, which sherecognized, however much she decried them openly. Even if compelled bycircumstances to accept Arnault, she proposed to herself the triumphof rejecting Graydon, and thought she could do this so skilfully as togive the idea that he had made a deep impression on her heart, andso eventually win him again as one of her devoted followers in thefuture. This product of fashionable society had not the slightestintention of giving up her career as a belle for the sake of Mr.Arnault or any one else. She had more liking and less fear for Graydonthan for Arnault. The latter was an open, resolute suitor, but sheknew that he was controlled more by ambition than by affection--thathe would yield everything and submit to anything up to a certainpoint. The moment she jeopardized his prestige before the world,or interfered with his scheme of success, she would meet rock-likeobduracy, both before and after marriage. She knew that Graydon hada sincere affection for her, and a faith in her which, even in heregotism, she was aware was unmerited--that he had a larger, gentler,and more tolerant nature, and would be easier to manage than Arnault.
Her fear of the latter proved his best ally. There was a resolution inhis eye since his return this evening that, even while it angered hersomewhat, convinced her that he would not be trifled with. His suitwas that of a man who had an advantage which she dared not ignore, andher father's manner increased this impression. She felt that her gamewas becoming delicate and hazardous, but she would not forego itsdelicious excitement, or abandon the hope that Graydon might stillbe in a position to warrant her preference. Therefore she proposed toyield to Arnault as far as she could without alienating Muir, hopingthat the former would soon return to town again, and thus more time besecured for her final decision.
Before the first evening of his rivals advent had passed, Graydon feltthat he must appear to the people in the house as supplanted, and hispride was beginning to be touched. Mrs. Muir's words had added to hisirritation. The episode with Madge had left a decidedly unpleasantimpression. He felt not only that he had failed to understand her, butthat he might be treating her with a neglect which she had a right toresent. Her appearance and manner during the storm had almost startledhim; her abrupt departure had caused sudden and strong compunction;and he had wished that they might come to a better understanding;but thoughts of her had soon given place to anxiety in regard to MissWildmere. It began to seem strange that the girl who had apparentlywaited for him so long, and who had permitted such unequivocal wordsand manner on his part that day, should now, before his very eyes, beaccepting attentions even more unmistakable from another man. She hadtried to explain and prepare him for all this, but there was more thanhe was prepared for. She not only danced oftener with Arnault thanwith any one else, but also strolled with him on the dusky piazza,which, by reason of the dampness due to the storm, was almostdeserted. Graydon had permitted his brow to become clouded, and was soperturbed by the events of the evening that he had not disguised hisvexation by gallantries to others. At last he detected smiles andwhispered surmises on the part of some who had seen his devotionbefore the arrival of Mr. Arnault. This almost angered him, and hefelt that Miss Wildmere had imposed a role that would be difficult tomaintain.
He had lingered conspicuously near, intent on proving his loyalty, andhad hoped every moment that his opportunity would come. He felt thatshe should at least divide her time evenly with him and Mr. Arnault,but the evening was drawing to a close, and the latter had receivedthe lion's share. After noting that others were observing hisdesolation, he went resolutely out on the piazza, with the intentionof asking Miss Wildmere to give him the last waltz. Its wide spacewas deserted. He waited a few moments, thinking that the object of histhoughts would turn the corner in her promenade with his rival. Timepassed, and she did not come. He looked through a parlor window,thinking that she might have entered by some other means of ingress;and while he was standing there steps slowly approached from a part ofthe piazza which was usually in utter darkness, and which was knownas the "lovers' retreat." As the figures passed a lighted window herecognized them, and was also observed. He was too angry and jealousnow to carry out his purpose, and returned to the general hallway.
Here he was joined a moment later by Miss Wildmere and Mr. Arnault,and the former began to chat with him in imperturbable ease, whilethe gentleman bowed and sought another partner for the waltz that wasabout to be danced. Graydon would not show his chagrin under the manyeyes directed toward them, but she nevertheless saw his anger in thecold expression of his eyes, and realized her danger. She ignoredeverything with inimitable skill and sweetness, and there was nothingfor him to do but take her out with the others. Indeed, it almostinstantly became his policy to convince observers that their surmiseswere without foundation. He determined that the girl should show himall the favor his rival had enjoyed, or else--A sudden flash of hiseyes indicated to his observant companion that all her skill wouldbe required. She was graciousness itself, and when Arnault couldnot observe her, stole swift and almost pleading glances into herpartner's eyes.
Another observed her, however. Madge did come down at last, for shehad concluded that the memorable day should not close until shehad had one more glimpse of the problem which had grown so dark andhopeless. Graydon soon observed her standing in the doorway, but thenshe was talking and laughing with a lady friend. A moment later sheglided out on the floor with one of a half dozen who had been waitingfor the favor. Graydon sought to catch her eye, but did not succeed.Again she made upon his mind the impression of troubled perplexity,but his purpose was uppermost, and he was bent on carrying it out.
"Come," he said to Miss Wildmere, in quiet tones, "I should enjoy astroll on the piazza, the room has grown so warm and close."
Feeling that she must yield, she did so with ready grace and apparentwillingness, and Graydon led her out through the main entrance, thatit might be observed that he received no less favor than had beengiven to another.
"She is playing them both pretty strong," whispered one of thecommittee, before referred to, that sits perpetually on the phases oflife at such resorts.
"I feared you would not be very patient," said Miss Wildmere, in a lowtone.
"I said I would be reasonably patient," was the reply.
"Reason again."
"Yes, Miss Wildmere; I think I can justly say that I am endowed withboth heart and reason. There are some questions in life that demandboth."
"Please do not speak so coldly. You do not understand."
"I wish I did."
"Be patient and you will. After maintaining friendship true and strongfor years, it hurts me to be misjudged now."
"But, Miss Wildmere--" he began, impetuously.
"Hush," she said, hastily; then added, a little coldly, "if I am notworthy of a little trust I am not worthy of anything."
Graydon was touched to the quick. Honorable himself, he felt that hewas acting meanly and suspiciously--that his jealousy and irritationwere leading him to unmanly conduct. There was some reason for hercourse, which would be explained eventually, and he ought not to aska woman to be his wife at all unless he could trust her. Therefore hesaid, humbly. "I beg your pardon. In my heart I believe you worthy ofall trust. I will wait and be as patient as you desire, since I knowthat you cannot have failed to understand me." Then he added, witha deprecating laugh, "There are times, I suppose, when all men are alittle blind and unreasonable."
"Heaven keep him blind!" she thought, yet she winced under his honestwords in their contrast with herself.
"I hope some day to prove worthy of your trust," she breathed, softly,and looked in dread into the darkness lest in some way her wordsshould reach Ar
nault. "Come, please," she added, with a gentlepressure on his arm, "let us return, or the hotel may be closed uponus."
"Please give me all the time you can," pleaded Graydon, as they pausedat the door.
Looking within, she saw Arnault with his back toward them, and said,hastily, and as if impulsively, "I will--all that I can. Possibly myregret will be deeper than yours that I cannot give you more."
"You should know that that is not possible," he said, in low, earnesttones. Then he added, in a whisper, as she was entering, "I can trustyou now and wait."
"My good fortune is still in the ascendant," was her thought; "I canstill keep him in hand, in spite of papa and Mr. Arnault."
"Her father's relations with Mr. Arnault must give him some hold uponher," he thought, "and for her father's sake she cannot yield to me atonce, but she will eventually."
Mr. Arnault came forward with smiling lips, light words, yet resoluteeyes. Graydon felt that he had received all the assurance that heneeded--that she was under some necessity of keeping his rival ingood-humor--so he smiled significantly into her eyes, and bowedhimself away.
"Muir looked as if he had received all the comfort that he required,"Arnault said, as they strolled across the parlor, now deserted.
"Did he? Well, he did not require very much."
"How much?"
"You had better ask him."
"Stella," he said, and there was a suggestion of menace in his tone,"I'm in earnest now. You will soon have to choose between us."
"Shall I?" she replied, bending upon him an arch, bewildering smile."Then please don't speak as if I had no choice at all;" and she wasgoing.
"Wait," he said. "Will you drive with me to-morrow?"
"Yes. Is there anything else your lordship would like?"
He seized her hand, and held it in both his. "This," he said.
"Is that all?" was her laughing reply, as she withdrew it. "I wish youhad more of Mr. Muir's diffidence;" and she vanished before he couldspeak again.
Graydon found that Madge had retired, so that there was no chance forhim to speak to her that night; but his mind was in too happy a tumultto give her much thought.
A Young Girl's Wooing Page 15