by Charles King
CHAPTER XVIII.
It was a gala night at the opera. The grand old house, so perfect inacoustic properties, so comfortably old-fashioned in design, so quaintlyforeign in all its appointments, was filled with an audience composed ofthe music-loving people of New Orleans, and a sprinkling of Northernvisitors still lingering amid the balmy odors of the magnolia and theorange-blossoms. Spring had come,--summer was coming. The sun wasalready high and warm enough to warrant the appearance of parasols byday; while, after it sank to rest, the ray-warmed breezes were welcomedthrough open door and casement; and in hundreds of slender hands thefan, swung and flirted with the indolent grace our Southern women haveso readily learned from their Castilian sisterhood across the sea,stirred the perfumed air, and rustled soft accompaniment to the witcheryof the music.
Entering that old French opera-house on Bourbon Street, one steps onforeign soil. America is left behind. French is the language of everysign, of the libretto, even of the programme. French only is or was thenspoken by the employes of the house. French the orchestra, the chorus,the language of the play. French, everything but the music. Theornamentation of the house, the arrangement of the boxes, the verydivision of the audience was the design of foreign hands, and here, morereadily than anywhere in our land, could one imagine oneself abroad.
These were days of triumph for the stockholders of the old company. Thesomewhat over-gilded and too ornate decorations might have lost much oftheir freshness, the upholstery had grown worn and faded; but theorchestra and the company were admirable. Aiming at perfection andcompleteness in all details, the managers had kept up the old system ofputting everything _thoroughly_ upon the stage. Costumes and properties,though old, were accurate and appropriate; the chorus was full,admirably schooled and disciplined; and the orchestra, in the days whenCalabresi's _baton_ called it into life, had no superior in the country.Instead of lavishing fortunes on some one marvellous _prima donna_ andconcomitant tenor, the aim of the management had been to secureexcellent voices, good actors, conscientious artists, and so be sure ofrendering an opera in its entirety,--every part well and suitablyfilled, instead of turning the grand creations of the great composersinto mere concert recitations. One heard the opera in New Orleans as heheard it nowhere else in the country, and there, and there only of allits places of public amusement, could one see in full force the cultureand the refinement of the Crescent City.
It was a "full dress" night. The parquet was filled with men in theconventional black swallow-tail. The dress and second circles of openboxes, the _loges_ behind them, were brilliant with the toilets ofbeautifully-dressed women; and in one of these latter enclosures wereseated Miss Summers and Kitty, behind whom could be seen Vinton, Amory,and Harrod.
Leaving my seat in the parquet, I strolled up to their box immediatelyafter the curtain fell upon the first act of "The Huguenots." Someforty-eight hours had passed since my meeting with Mars, and that vividcuriosity of mine was all aflame as to the later developments. Bothladies turned and gave me cordial welcome as I entered. Vinton made roomfor me behind Miss Summers' chair, and Harrod strolled out to see somefriends.
Though both officers were in civilian evening dress, the story ofPauline's engagement was known among the few acquaintances she had insociety, and her escort, a stranger to the city, was doubtless assumedto be the Yankee major. It was too soon after the war for such analliance to be looked on with favor by those who had recently been inbitter hostility to the army blue, and the few glances or nods ofrecognition that passed between Miss Summers and a party of ladies in anadjoining box were constrained--even cold. To my proud-spirited friendthis was a matter of little consequence. If anything, it served only themore deeply and firmly to attach her to the gallant gentleman, stillpale and languid from his recent illness, who so devotedly hovered abouther the entire evening. Her sweet, womanly face was full of the deepesttenderness as she leaned back to speak to him from time to time, andsoon, with woman's quick intuition, observing that I was anxious towatch Kitty and Mars, she delightedly resigned herself to my abstractionand gave her undivided attention to Vinton.
Never in my brief acquaintance with her had Kitty Carrington looked sobewitchingly pretty. Never were her eyes so deep, dark, lustrous;never--I could plainly see--so dangerous. Never was her color sobrilliant, never were her lips so red, her teeth so flashingly white;and never yet had I seen her when all her fascinations were somercilessly levelled at a victim's heart, even while she herself wastormenting him to the extent of every feminine ingenuity. The situationwas plain at a single glance.
Her greeting to me had been coquettishly cordial, and for a moment shelooked as though she expected me to accept Mr. Amory's proffered chairat her back. But Mars had risen with so rueful a look in hiseyes--something so appealing and wistful in his bearing--that I had thedecency to decline; and with vast relief of manner he slid back into hisseat, and the torment went on.
In low, eager tones he was murmuring to her over the back of her chair.She--with head half turned, so that one little ear, pink and shell-like,was temptingly near his lips--was listening with an air of saucy triumphto his pleadings,--whatever they were,--her long lashes sweeping downover her flushed cheeks, and her eyes, only at intervals, shootingsidelong glances at him. What he was saying I could not hear, but neversaw I man so plunged in the depths of fascination. His eyes never lefttheir adoring gaze upon her face, yet they were full of trouble, full ofpleading that might have moved a heart of stone. But Kitty wasmerciless. At last there came a bubble of soft, silvery laughter and themischievous inquiry,--
"And how should a lady answer? How--Miss Grayson, for instance?"
For a moment there was no word of reply. Amory sat like one in a daze.Then very slowly he drew back, and I could see that his hand wasclinched and that his bright young face had paled. Alarmed at hissilence, toying nervously with her fan, she strove to see his eyes, yetdared not look around. Mars slowly rose to his feet, bent calmly overher, and, though his voice trembled and his lips were very white, hespoke distinctly, even cuttingly,--
"Miss Grayson would have answered at least with courtesyand--good-night, Miss Carrington."
And before another word could be said he had quickly bowed to the restof us and abruptly quited the box.
Evidently she had tormented him until his quick, impulsive, boyishnature could bear it no longer,--until his spirit had taken fire at hermerciless coquetry,--and then, giving her no chance to retract orrelent, he had vanished in choking indignation. Kitty sat still as astatue one little minute, turning from red to white. Pauline, who hadheard only Amory's sudden words of farewell, looked wonderingly up aninstant, then seeing plainly that there had been a misunderstanding, andthat remark or interference would only complicate matters, she wiselyturned back to Vinton, and the rising of the curtain gave all an excuseto concentrate their eyes, if not their thoughts, upon the stage.
But the opera was an old story to me. Kitty was a novelty, a study ofconstantly varying phases, a picture I never tired of gazing at, and nowshe was becoming even more--a perfect fascination. Pauline glancedfurtively, anxiously, at her from time to time, but I,--I mostunblushingly watched and stared. She was manifestly ill at ease andgrievously disquieted at the result of her coquetry. Her brilliant colorhad fled. Her eyes, suspiciously moistened, wandered nervously about thehouse, as though searching for her vanished knight, that they mightflash their signal of recall. I, too, kept an eye on the parquet and thelobby, far as I could see, vaguely hoping that Mars might relent andtake refuge there, when his wrath would have time to cool, and he couldbe within range of her fluttering summons to "come back and beforgiven." But the second act came to a close. Mars never once appeared.Vinton and Miss Summers once or twice addressed some tentative remark toKitty, as though to bring her again into the general conversation andcover her evident distress; but monosyllabic replies and quivering lipswere her only answer. I began to grow nervous, and decided to sallyforth in search of my peppery hero. My ministrations had been
vastlypotent and diplomatic thus far, and might be again. So, with a word ortwo of excuse, I made my bow and strolled into the _foyer_.
One or two acquaintances detained me a few moments, but during theintermission between the acts I was able to satisfy myself that Mr.Amory was no longer in the house. Indeed, some of the officers stationedin town told me that they had seen him crossing the street just as theyre-entered. Presently I met Colonel Newhall, and his first questionwas,--
"How is Vinton to-night?"
"Very well, apparently. Do you want to see him?"
"Not particularly. He is here, I believe. You might tell him that hissick-leave is granted. It may be welcome news to him--just now."
"Naturally: as he expects to be married next month."
"Yes. I'm glad he got the leave--when he did," said the colonel, as heturned away to speak to some friends.
Something in his manner set me to thinking. What could he mean by sayingthat he was glad Vinton had secured his leave of absence? Was any suddenmove probable? Amory did say that it was current talk that theirregiment was to be ordered to the frontier in the spring. Could it bethat the order had already come?
I went back to the box. Kitty looked eagerly around as I entered, thenturned back in evident disappointment. Not a word was exchanged betweenus until the close of the act; but for two occupants of the _loge_ "TheHuguenots" had lost all interest.
It was eleven o'clock and after as we reached the lodgings on our returnfrom the opera. Mars had nowhere appeared, though Kitty's eyes soughthim in the throng at the doorway, and, as we drew near the house, shelooked eagerly ahead at a soldierly form in cavalry undress uniform. Acorporal of the troop was lounging under the gas-light at the entrance.The moment he caught sight of our party he stepped forward and handedVinton a letter.
There was nothing unusual about a letter arriving for Major Vinton--dayor night. Orderlies came frequently to the old house on Royal Streetwith bulky missives for him; yet I felt a premonition in someinexplicable way that this was no ordinary communication. It was a merenote, and I thought the corporal said, "From the lieutenant, sir." Yet Iknew it meant tidings of importance,--and so did others.
Miss Summers had withdrawn her hand from Vinton's arm as he took thenote, and with deep anxiety in her paling face stood watching him as heopened and read it under the lamp. Kitty too had stepped forward, and,resting one little hand on the stone post at the doorway, gazed withequal intensity and a face that was paler yet than her cousin's. Harrodand I, a little behind them, were silent witnesses. Presently Vintonlooked up, his eyes seeking the face he loved.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Our orders have come."
For an instant no one spoke. I could not take my eyes off Kitty, whoseback was towards me, but who I could see was struggling hard forcomposure. Pauline instinctively put forth her hand, drawing Kittycloser to her side.
"Shall I read it?" asked Vinton, gently, looking at Pauline, after onehurried glance at Kitty. She nodded assent.
"It is from Amory," he said.
"DEAR MAJOR,--Parker has just met me. The orders are out. Regiment ordered to Dakota. Our troop goes by first boat to St. Louis. Your leave is granted, so it does not affect you; but--I'm glad to go. Parker says by 'James Howard' to-morrow night.
"Yours in haste,
"AMORY"
Without a word Kitty Carrington turned from us and hurried into thehouse.
"What on earth could take the regiment to Dakota?" asked Harrod, after amoment of silence.
"The Sioux have been troublesome all along the Missouri and Yellowstoneof late, and this is anything but unexpected. We had a lively campaignagainst the Southern Cheyennes, you remember, and this promises morework of the same kind, only much farther north."
Pauline's eyes were filling with tears. I was plainly _de trop_, and hadsense enough left to appreciate that fact at least. Promising to meetVinton at headquarters in the morning, I took my departure. I had madeup my mind, late as it was, to go and see Amory; and, late as it was, Ifound him in earnest talk with his mother.
"Can you spare me a moment?" I asked. "I have just heard the news, andif it be true you sail to-morrow night, you will be too much occupiedto-morrow."
He had come to the door to admit me, and looked reluctantly back.Hearing my voice, Mrs. Amory came into the hall to greet me, andcourteously as ever she asked me to enter; but I saw the traces of tearson her face, and knew that their time was precious.
"I want to have a moment's talk with this young man, Mrs. Amory. I willnot take him farther than the corner, and will not keep him longer thanfive minutes at the utmost. Can you spare him that long?"
She smiled assent, but Mars hung back. He knew well that I was onceagain coming forward with some intervention, and his blood was up, hisanger still aglow; but I was not to be denied. He seized his forage-capand stepped out with me into the starlit night.
"There is no time for apologies from an old fellow like me, Amory," saidI, placing a hand involuntarily on his shoulder. "Forgive me if I painyou, or am too intrusive. I heard what happened at the opera to-night.Would you be willing to tell me how she came to know anything aboutBella Grayson?"
"I told Miss Carrington myself," said Mars, rather shortly; and hishands went down in his pockets, and a very set look came into his faceas he kicked at a projecting ledge in the uneven pavement.
"You know how I've grown to like you, youngster, and _must_ know that Ican have no other impulse or excuse in thus meddling with your affairs.I'm fond of her too, Frank, and have seen enough to-night--andbefore--to convince me that she would give a vast deal to unsay thosethoughtless words. I do not excuse her conduct; but she never for aninstant could have dreamed of its effect, and it did not take the newsof your order to make her repent it bitterly. I could see that plainly.Amory, _don't_ go without seeing her."
Mars made no reply whatever.
"Have you told your mother of this misunderstanding?" I asked.
"Not exactly. I have told her--she saw I was cut up about something andasked--that something had been said that was very hard to bear, but thatI had rather not talk of it now. I was too much hurt."
"Well. Then I must say nothing further, my boy; but if I may askanything for the sake of the friendship I feel for you and for them,tell your mother the whole affair, and let her guide your action. Now,forgive me, and good-night. We will meet in the morning."
He pressed my hand cordially enough, but still made no reply to myrequest. "Thank you, Mr. Brandon; good-night," was all he said, and Mr.Brandon walked gloomily homeward. _Amantium irae_ might be easy things tosettle if left to the participants, but were vastly easier to stumbleinto.
Clear, cloudless, lovely dawned the morrow, and long before office hoursI had breakfasted and betaken myself to headquarters. Mr. Parker wasthere, and Amory had been at the office, but Vinton had as yet put in noappearance. My first question was as to the probable time of departureof the troop, and Parker's tidings filled me with hope. Thequartermaster had been unable to secure transportation for the horses inthe "Howard." The troops could not sail before the following day.Meantime, he said, there was to be a review of the small force in thecity that very afternoon, and the general had expressed a desire to havea look at the cavalry once more before they started for their new anddistant sphere of duty. It was his favorite arm of the service, and hehated to part with them.
By and by the general himself arrived, and Major Vinton happening in atalmost the same moment, "the chief" led the latter into his privateoffice and held him there for over half an hour in conversation. Anorderly was despatched for Mr. Amory, who was busily occupied over atthe stables, and that young gentleman presently made his appearance,looking somewhat dusty and fatigued. The men were packing for the moveand getting ready for their afternoon exhibition at one and the sametime, he explained. Then Vinton came out, called his subaltern to oneside, and gave him some instructions in his quiet way, and no sooner hadhe finished tha
n Amory faced about and went out of the room like a shot.Then for the first time I had a chance to speak to Vinton and ask afterthe ladies.
"Very well; at least Miss Summers is, despite her natural concern at oursudden taking off----"
"Why, you are not going!" I interrupted.
"Yes," he answered. "As far as Memphis, at least. Then I shall leave thetroop to Amory and make for Sandbrook, whither the judge and the ladieswill start in a few days. That is," he concluded, with a smile, "unlesssome new freak takes Miss Kitty Carrington. That little lady is ready totear her pretty hair out by the handful this morning. She did not cometo breakfast at all, and I fancy she had an unusually sharp skirmishwith Amory last night. By the way, I've got a note for him, and he'sgone,--gone clear to the foot of Canal Street, too, to look at theaccommodations on one of those smaller steamers,--and I was enjoined togive it to him at once."
"Give it to me; I'll take it," said I, all eagerness. "What boat will hebe looking at? I'll get there in short order."
"He ought to be back here by noon," said Vinton. "It will take him notmore than an hour."
But I was eager to see Mars myself. The note must be from Kitty, Iargued; and so, indeed, I knew it to be, from the dainty envelope andsuperscription when the major drew it forth. My theory was that I couldget that note to him in less than twenty minutes, and probably be thebearer of peace propositions. It was too alluring a prospect; besides, Iwas tired of waiting around headquarters doing nothing. Vinton saw myeagerness, smiled, gave me his consent and the note, and in half an hourI was at the levee and aboard the "Indiana." Mars had been there andgone. So much for my officiousness.
This time I took a cab, drove rapidly back to headquarters. NeitherVinton nor Amory was there. Mr. Parker said that the latter had gallopedup not fifteen minutes after I left, reported that the "Indiana" couldnot take sixty horses, and was off again, he knew not whither. Vintonhad gone to the stables. Thither I followed.
"The major has just driven off in the quartermaster's ambulance, andthey're gone to look at some steamboat," said the corporal at the gate."The lieutenant's horse is back, sir, but he's gone away too."
This was a complication. It was after twelve. The review was to come offat three. I wanted to go down and invite the ladies to drive with me tosee it. But how could I face Kitty Carrington with that undeliverednote? Over to Amory's house was the next venture. New despair. He andhis mother had taken a street-car and gone up-town only a few minutesbefore I arrived. Now, what on earth could I do?
"The lieutenant's horse was to be sent to his quarters," the corporalhad informed me, "at quarter before three, and the lieutenant probablywould not be back at the stables again before that time."
For the next hour Mr. G. S. Brandon was as miserable a man as the citycontained. No one at headquarters could tell where Amory had gone. Noone knew when Vinton would be back. I fumed and fidgeted around theoffice some few minutes. Neither Colonel Newhall nor Mr. Parker couldhelp me out in the least. There was no telling where to look for Amory.Vinton might be found down along the levee, but what good would thatdo? Twice the old general came trudging into the aide-de-camp's room,and looked at me with suspicious eyes from under his shaggyeyebrows,--my ill-concealed impatience and repeated inquiries made himirritable, or my undesired presence during business hours was a nuisanceto him, perhaps; at all events, after I had for the tenth time,probably, repeated my hopeless remark of wonderment as to where thatyoung gentleman could have gone, just as the general came promenadinginto the room with hands clasped behind his back and his head bent uponhis breast, as we New Orleans people had grown accustomed to seeing orhearing of him, the old soldier stopped short, and, raising his head,testily exclaimed,--
"Mr. Brandon, what _is_ the matter? Does that young officer owe you anymoney?"
"Money, sir? No, sir!" I answered, in all haste and half indignation."By heavens! I wish that were the matter. The boot is on the other leg,general. I owe him something more than money. A letter, sir,--a letterfrom a young lady, and I undertook to deliver it two hours ago."
April sunshine bursting through storm-cloud could not more quicklysoften and irradiate the face of nature than that wonderful smile of theold general's could lighten every lineament. Who that ever saw it couldforget it? It beamed from the wrinkles around the kind old eyes. Itflashed from his even teeth. It dimpled his cheeks into a thousand merrylights and shadows. It was sunshine itself, and with it all the oldcourtly manner instantly returned.
"I _beg_ your pardon, sir. I beg _his_ pardon, sir. God bless my soul,what an inexcusable blunder! A note from a young lady. That charminglittle friend of Major Vinton's? Here, Parker, you go. You see if youcan't find him, sir. Bring him here, sir. Help Mr. Brandon any way youcan, sir. God bless my soul, what a blunder!" And by this time we wereall laughing too heartily for further words. My indignant and impetuousreply had virtually betrayed the situation.
My cab being still at the door I decided to hurry right down to RoyalStreet, notify the ladies of the coming review, and of the fact that thetroop would not sail until the following day, though I felt sure Vintonhad done that; then I could return to headquarters. Meantime thatprecious note was placed in Parker's hands.
Whirling across Canal Street, the cab was just turning into Royal when Icaught sight of Miss Summers and Harrod on the banquette, and obedientto my shout the driver pulled up. They turned back to greet me. Yes,Vinton had sent word about the review and the good news that there wasyet a day before they could sail. The colonel and his sister were goingto attend to some business on Canal Street, and hurry back to meet himat the lodgings at half-past two; then they would all drive up to seethe review near Tivoli Circle. Would I join them? Amory was to commandthe troop, as the doctor thought Major Vinton not yet strong enough toride. But where was Amory? had I seen him?
All this was asked rapidly, as time was short, and almost as rapidly Ilearned that Kitty was at home, and Pauline's eyes plainly said waitingand anxious. I decided on driving thither at once and confessing theenormity of my sin of omission. I would find her in their kindlandlady's parlor, said Miss Summers. So in I went.
In ten minutes Kitty Carrington fluttered into the parlor where I wasawaiting her. No need to tell that hers had been a night of unhappiness,a day of bitter anxiety. Her sweet face was very pale and wan, her eyesred with weeping. How to break my news I did not know. She lookedwonderingly, wistfully, at the solemnity of my face, gave me her handwith hardly a word of greeting, and stood by the table waiting for me totell my errand, forgetful of the civility of asking me to be seated.
"Miss Kitty, I am in great trouble. Nearly three hours ago I volunteeredto hurry down to the levee with a letter that Major Vinton had for Mr.Amory, but Mr. Amory and I missed each other, have missed each otherever since. He has gone somewhere with his mother, and yet must be backin time for the review, but I felt certain that letter ought to get tohim at once. Yet you know they do not sail until to-morrow, do you not?"
Her head was averted, her slight form was quivering and trembling, herbosom heaving violently in the effort to control the sob that, despiteall struggles, burst from her lips. She had been waiting for him all themorning. In another moment, for all answer, she had thrown herself uponthe sofa, and was weeping in a wild passion of unrestrained misery. Poorlittle motherless Kit! and this was my doing.
In vain I strove to soothe her. In vain I protested that the letterwould soon be in his hands, that no possible harm could come from thedelay. Nay, in my eagerness and ludicrous distress I believe I knelt andstrove to draw her hands away from her face. Then she hurriedly arose,rushed to the window, and leaning her arms upon the casement, and bowingher pretty head upon her hands, sobbed wildly. Good heavens! what_could_ such an old idiot do? I was powerless, helpless, wretched.
Suddenly there came a springy step along the lower passage, a quick,bounding footfall on the stair, the clink of spurred heels upon thematting in the hall, and Frank Amory, with a world of sunshine in hisglad young face,
stood at the doorway. One glance showed him where shestood, still weeping piteously, still blind to his presence. One springtook him half across the room, one second to her side. I heard but onequick, low-toned, almost ecstatic cry.
"Kitty! darling! Forgive me!"
I saw his arms enfold her. I saw her raise her head, startled, amazed.Saw one wondering flash of light and joy in the tear-dimmed eyes, but ofwhat happened next I have no knowledge, not even conjecture. For once inhis life Mr. Brandon had the decency not to look, the sagacity to knowthat he was no longer needed, if indeed he ever had been, and thepresence of mind to take himself off.