CHAPTER XXI.
One thought only was uppermost in Daisy's mind as she sped swiftlydown the flower-bordered path in the moonlight, away from the husbandwho was still so dear to her.
"He did not recognize me," she panted, in a little quivering voice."Would he have cursed me, I wonder, had he known it was I?"
Down went the little figure on her knees in the dew-spangled grasswith a sharp little cry.
"Oh, dear, what shall I do?" she cried out in sudden fright. "Howcould I know she was his sister when I told her my name?" A twig fellfrom the bough above her head brushed by some night-bird's wing. "Heis coming to search for me," she whispered to herself.
A tremor ran over her frame; the color flashed into her cheek andparted lips, and a startled, wistful brightness crept into the blueeyes.
Ah! there never could have been a love so sweetly trustful andchild-like as little Daisy's for handsome Rex, her husband in nameonly.
Poor, little, innocent Daisy! if she had walked straight back to him,crying out, "Rex, Rex, see, I am Daisy, your wife!" how much untoldsorrow might have been spared her.
Poor, little, lonely, heart-broken child-bride! how was she to knowRex had bitterly repented and come back to claim her, alas! too late;and how he mourned her, refusing to be comforted, and how they forcedhim back from the edge of the treacherous shaft lest he should plungeheadlong down the terrible depths. Oh, if she had but known all this!
If Rex had dropped down from the clouds she could not have been morestartled and amazed at finding him in such close proximity away downin Florida.
She remembered he had spoken to her of his mother, as he clasped herto his heart out in the starlight of that never-to-be-forgotten night,whispering to her of the marriage which had been the dearest wish ofhis mother's heart.
She remembered how she had hid her happy, rosy, blushing face on hisbreast, and asked him if he was quite sure he loved her better thanPluma Hurlhurst, the haughty, beautiful heiress.
"Yes, my pretty little sweetheart, a thousand times better," he hadreplied, emphatically, holding her off at arm's-length, watching theheightened color that surged over the dainty, dimpled face so plainlydiscernible in the white, radiant starlight.
Daisy rested her head on one soft, childish hand, and gazedthoughtfully up at the cold, brilliant stars that gemmed the heavensabove her.
"Oh, if you had only warned me, little stars!" she said. "I was sohappy then; and now life is so bitter!"
A sudden impulse seized her, strong as her very life, to look upon hisface again.
"I would be content to live my weary life out uncomplainingly then,"she said.
Without intent or purpose she walked hurriedly back through thepansy-bordered path she had so lately traversed.
The grand old trees seemed to stretch their giant arms protectinglyover her, as if to ward off all harm.
The night-wind fanned her flushed cheeks and tossed her golden curlsagainst her wistful, tear-stained face. Noiselessly she crept up thewide, graveled path that led to his home--the home which should havebeen hers.
Was it fancy? She thought she heard Rex's voice crying out: "Daisy, mydarling!" How pitifully her heart thrilled! Dear Heaven! if it hadonly been true. It was only the restless murmur of the waves sighingamong the orange-trees.
A light burned dimly in an upper window. Suddenly a shadow fell acrossthe pale, silken curtains. She knew but too well whose shadow it was;the proud, graceful poise of the handsome head, and the line of thedark curls waving over the broad brow, could belong to no one but Rex.There was no one but the pitying moonlight out there to see howpassionately the poor little child-bride kissed the pale roses onwhich that shadow had fallen, and how she broke it from the stem andplaced it close to her beating heart--that lonely, starved littleheart, chilled under the withering frost of neglect, when life, loveand happiness should have been just bursting into bloom for her.
"He said I had spoiled his life," she sighed, leaning her pale facewearily against the dark-green ivy vines. "He must have meant I hadcome between him and Pluma. Will he go back to her, now that hebelieves me dead?"
One question alone puzzled her: Had Birdie mentioned her name, andwould he know it was she, whom every one believed lying so cold andstill in the bottomless pit? She could not tell.
"If I could but see Birdie for a moment," she thought, "and beseechher to keep my secret!"
Birdie had said her brother was soon going away again.
"How could I bear it?" she asked herself, piteously.
It was not in human nature to see the young husband whom she loved sowell drifting so completely away from her and still remain silent. "Iwill watch over him from afar; I will be his guardian angel; I mustremain as one dead to him forever," she told herself.
Afar off, over the dancing, moonlighted waters she saw a pleasure-boatgliding swiftly over the rippling waves. She could hear their merrylaughter and gay, happy voices, and snatches of mirthful songs.Suddenly the band struck up an old, familiar strain. Poor little Daisyleaned her head against the iron railing of the porch and listened tothose cruel words--the piece that they played was "Love's YoungDream."
Love's young dream! Ah! how cruelly hers had ended! She looked up atthe white, fleecy clouds above her, vaguely wondering why the love ofone person made the earth a very paradise, or a wilderness. As thegay, joyous music floated up to her the words of the poet found echoin her heart in a passionate appeal:
"No one could tell, for nobody knew, Why love was made to gladden a few; And hearts that would forever be true, Go lone and starved the whole way through,"
Oh, it was such a blessed relief to her to watch that shadow. Rex waspacing up and down the room now, his arms folded and his head bent onhis breast. Poor, patient little Daisy, watching alone out in thestarlight, was wondering if he was thinking of her.
No thought occurred to her of being discovered there with her armsclasped around that marble pillar watching so intently the shadow ofthat graceful, manly figure pacing to and fro.
No thought occurred to her that a strange event was at that momenttranspiring within those walls, or that something unusual was about tohappen.
How she longed to look upon his face for just one brief moment!Estrangement had not chilled her trusting love, it had increased it,rather, tenfold.
Surely it was not wrong to gaze upon that shadow--he was her husband.
In that one moment a wild, bitter thought swept across her heart.
Did Rex regret their marriage because she was poor, friendless, and anorphan? Would it have been different if she had been the heiress ofWhitestone Hall?
She pitied herself for her utter loneliness. There was no one to whomshe could say one word of all that filled her heart and mind, no faceto kiss, no heart to lean on; she was so completely alone. And thiswas the hour her fate was being decided for her. There was no sympathyfor her, her isolation was bitter. She thought of all the heroines shehad ever read of. Ah, no one could picture such a sad fate as washers.
A bright thought flashed across her lonely little heart.
"His mother is there," she sighed. "Ah, if I were to go to her and cryout: 'Love me, love me! I am your son's wife!' would she cast me fromher? Ah, no, surely not; a woman's gentle heart beats in her breast, awoman's tender pity. I will plead with her on my knees--to comfortme--to show me some path out of the pitiful darkness; I can love herbecause she is his mother."
Daisy drew her breath quickly; the color glowed warmly on her cheekand lips; she wondered she had not thought of it before. Poor child!she meant to tell her all, and throw herself upon her mercy.
Her pretty, soft blue eyes, tender with the light of love, wereswimming with tears. A vain hope was struggling in her heart--Rex'smother might love her, because she worshiped her only son so dearly.
Would she send her forth from that home that should have shelteredher, or would she clasp those little cold fingers in Rex's strongwhite ones, as
she explained to him, as only a mother can, how sadlyhe had misjudged poor little Daisy--his wife?
No wonder her heart throbbed pitifully as she stole silentlyacross the wide, shadowy porch, and, quivering from head to foot,touched the bell that echoed with a resounding sound through the longentrance-hall.
"I would like to see Mrs. Lyon," she said, hesitatingly, to theservant who answered her summons. "Please do not refuse me," she said,clasping her little white hands pleadingly. "I must see her at once.It is a question of life or death with me. Oh, sir, please do notrefuse me. I must see her at once--and--all alone!"
Daisy Brooks; Or, A Perilous Love Page 21