CHAPTER XXIII.

Previous

Notwithstanding the snow which fell steadily at one o'clock, all who were to take part in the "Cantata," assembled punctually at Mrs. Brompton's, and as Regina hurried down to the carriage, she found that Mrs. Carew, her little daughter and maid, had just arrived. Avoiding a presentation, she proceeded at once to the "Rehearsal," and dismissed the carriage, assuring Farley that it was wrong to keep the horses out in such inclement weather; and as she was provided with "waterproof," overshoes, and umbrella, would walk home.

The musical exercises were unusually tedious, the choruses were halting and uneven, and the repetition seemed endless. The day darkened, and the great bronze chandeliers were lighted, and still Professor Hurtzsel mercilessly flourished his baton, and required new trials; until at length feverishly impatient, Regina having satisfactorily rendered her solos, requested and received permission to retire.

It was almost four o'clock, the hour designated for her meeting, when she enveloped herself in her waterproof cloak, drew the hood over her hat, and almost ran for several squares from Mrs. Brompton's, toward a line of street cars which would convey her to the vicinity of the park. She succeeded in meeting an upward-bound car, entered, and breathed more freely.

It was quite crowded, and, forced to stand up, Regina steadied herself by one of the leathern straps suspended from the roof. At her side was an elderly gentleman with very white hair, eyebrows, and moustache, who was muffled in a heavy overcoat, and leaned upon a gold-headed cane. Soon after, another passenger pressed in, elbowed his way forward, and, touching the old gentleman, exclaimed:

"Colonel Tichnor in America! And above all in a street car! When did you arrive?"

"Last week. These cars are too democratic for men with gouty feet; but I dislike to bring my horses out in such weather. Not more than a dozen people have stood on my toes during the last fifteen minutes. Ringold, how is Palma? Prosperous as ever?"

"If you had been at Mrs. Tarrant's last night, you would not need to inquire. Positively we younger men have no showing when he deigns to enter the beaux list. He is striding upward in his profession, and you know there is no limit to his ambition. Hitherto he had cautiously steered clear of politics, but it is rumoured that a certain caucus will probably tender him the nomination for——"

Here a child close to Regina cried out so sharply that she could not hear several sentences; and when quiet was restored, the young gentleman was saying:

"Very true; there is no accounting for taste. It does appear queer that after living a bachelor so long, he should at last surrender to a widow. But, my dear sir, she is a perfect Circe,—and I suspect those immense estates in Cuba and Jamaica are quite as potential with Palma as her other undeniable charms. Last night, as he promenaded with her, it was conceded that they were the handsomest couple in the room; and Mrs. Grundy has patted them on the head, and bestowed the approved,—'Heaven bless you, my children.' Palma is the proudest man in——"

"Here is my street. Good-day, Ringold."

The elderly gentleman left the car, and after awhile the young man also departed; but there seemed no diminution of the crowd, and as the track was heavy with drifting snow the horses moved slowly. At last they reached a point where the line of road turned away from the direction in which Regina desired to go, and quitting the car, she walked toward East —— Street.

After the heated atmosphere she had just left, the sharp biting cold was refreshing, and against the glistening needles of snow she pressed rapidly on, until finally the trees in the square gladdened her eyes.

Near one of the corners, stood a large close carriage whose driver was enveloped in a cloak, and protected by an umbrella, while the yellow silk inside curtains were drawn down over the windows.

Agitated by contending emotions of reluctance to meeting the man whose presence was so painful, and of dread lest he had grown impatient, and might present himself to her guardian, Regina hastened into the square, and looked eagerly about the deserted walks.

Pressed against the south side of a leafless tree whose trunk partly shielded him from the driving snow-laden north-east wind, Peleg Peterson stood watching her, and as she approached, he came forward.

"Better late than never. How long did you expect me to wait here, with the cold eating into my vitals?"

"Indeed I am very sorry, but I could not come a moment sooner."

"Who is in that carriage yonder?"

"I do not know. How should I?"

"There is something suspicious about it. Is it waiting for you?"

"Certainly not, No human being knows where I am at this moment. Here are forty-five dollars, every cent that I possess. You must not expect me to aid you in future, for I shall not be able; and moreover I shall be subjected to suspicion if I come here again."

She handed him the money rolled up in a small package, and he deposited it in his pocket.

"You might at least have made it a hundred."

"I have no more money."

"Do you still doubt that you are my child?"

"When you make your claim in a court of justice, as you yesterday threatened, the proofs must be established. Until then, I shall not discuss it with you. I have an abiding faith in the instincts of nature, and I believe that when I stand before my father, my heart will unmistakably proclaim it. From you it shrinks with dread and horror."

"Because Minnie taught you to hate me. I knew she would."

"Mother never mentioned your name to me. Only to Hannah am I indebted for any knowledge of you. Where is Hannah now?"

"I don't know. We quarrelled not long ago. Regina, I want your photograph. I want to wear my daughter's picture over my heart."

He moved closer to her, and put out his arm, but she sprang back.

"You must not touch me, at least not now; not until I can hear from mother. I have no photographs of myself. The only picture taken for years is a portrait which Mr. Palma had painted, and sent to mother. In any emergency that may occur, if you should be really ill, or in actual suffering and want, write to me, and address your letter according to the directions on this slip of paper. Mrs. Mason will always see that your note reaches me safely. You look very cold, and I must hasten back, or my absence might cause questions and censure. I shall find out everything from mother, for she will not deceive me; and if—if what you say is true, then I shall know what is my duty, and you must believe that I shall perform it. I pray to God that you may not be my father, and I cannot believe that you are; but if after all you prove your claim, I will do what is right. I will take your hand then, and face the world's contempt; and we will bear our disgrace together as best we may. When I know you are my father, I will pay you all that a child owes a parent. This I promise you."

Her face was wellnigh as white as the snow that covered and fringed her hood; and out of its pallid beauty, the sad eyes looked steadfastly into the bloated visage before her.

"I believe you! There spoke my girl! You are true steel, and worth a hundred of Minnie. Some day, my pretty child, you and I shall know one another, as father and daughter should."

He once more attempted to touch her, but vigilant and agile she eluded his hand, and said decisively:

"You have all that I can give you now—the money. Don't put your hand on me, for as yet I deny your parental claim. When I know I am your child, you shall find me obedient in all things. Now, sir, good-bye."

Turning, she ran swiftly away, and glanced over her shoulder, fearful of pursuit, but the figure stood where she had left him; was occupied in counting the money, and, breathing more freely, Regina shook the snow from her wrappings, from her umbrella, and walked homeward.

Had she purchased a sufficient reprieve to keep him quiet until she could hear from her mother, and receive the expected summons to join her? Or was this but an illusive relief, a mere momentary lull in the tempest of humiliation that was muttering and darkening around her?

She had walked only a short distance from the square, and was turning a corner, when she ran against a gentleman hurrying from the opposite direction.

"Pray pardon me, miss."

She could not suppress the cry that broke from her lips.

"Oh, Mr. Palma!"

He turned as though he had not until now recognized her, but there was no surprise in his stern fixed face.

"I thought Mrs. Brompton resided on West —— Street; had not heard of her change of residence. From the length of your rehearsal you certainly should be perfect in your performance. It is now half-past five, and I think you told me you commenced at one? Rather disagreeable weather for you to be out. Wait here, under this awning, till I come back."

He was absent not more than five minutes, and returned with a close carriage; but a glance sufficed to show her it was not the one she had seen in the neighbourhood of the square.

As he opened the door and beckoned her forward, he took her umbrella, handed her in, and with one keen cold look into her face, said:

"I trust my ward's dinner toilette will be an improvement upon her present appearance, as several guests have been invited. The Cantata must have bored you immensely."

He bowed, closed the door, directed the driven to the number of his residence on Fifth Avenue, and disappeared.

Sinking down in one corner, Regina shut her eyes, and groaned. Could his presence have been accidental? She had given no one a clue in her movements, and how could he have followed her circuitous route after leaving Mrs. Brompton's? He had evinced no surprise, had asked no explanation of her conduct, but would he abstain in future? Was his promise to trust her the cause of his forbearance? Or was it attributable to the fact that his thoughts were concentrated upon the lady with whose name people were associating his?

The strain upon her nerves was beginning to relax; her head ached, her eyes smarted, and she felt sick and faint. Like one in a perplexing dream, she was whirled along the streets, and at last reached home.

The house was already brilliantly lighted, for the day had closed prematurely, with the darkness of the increasing snow, and in the seclusion of her own room the girl threw herself down in a rocking chair.

Everything seemed dancing in kaleidoscopic confusion, and amid the chaos only one grim fact was immovable, she must dress and go down to dinner. Just now, unwelcome as was the task, she dared not neglect it, for her absence might stimulate the investigation she so much dreaded, and wearily she rose and began her toilette.

At half-past seven Hattie entered.

"Aren't you ready, miss? Mrs. Palma says you must hurry down, for the company are all in the parlour, and Mr. Palma has asked for you. Stop a minute, miss. Your sash is all crooked. There, all right. Let me tell you there is more lace and velvet downstairs than you can show, and jewellery! No end of it! But as for born good looks, you can outface them all."

"Don't I look very pale and jaded?"

"Very white, miss; you always do, and red cheeks would be as much out of your style as paint on a corpse. I can tell you what you do look like, more than ever I saw you before; that marble figure with the dove on its finger, which stands in the front parlour bay-window."

It was Mr. Palma's pet piece of sculpture, a statue of "Innocence," originally intended for his library, but Mrs. Palma had pleaded for permission to exhibit it downstairs.

During Regina's residence in New York scarcely a week elapsed without her meeting guests at the dinner-table, and the frequency of the occurrence had quite worn away the awkward shyness with which she had at first confronted strangers. Yet to-day she felt nervously timid as she approached the threshold of the brilliant room, and caught a glimpse of those within.

Two gentlemen stood on the rug talking with Olga, a third sat on a sofa engaged in conversation with Mrs. Palma, while Mrs. St. Clare and her daughter entertained two strangers in the opposite corner, and on a tÊte-Â-tÊte drawn conspicuously forward under the chandelier were Mr. Palma and Mrs. Carew.

Regina merely glanced at Olga long enough to observe how handsome she appeared, in her rose-hued silk, with its rich black lace garniture, and the spray of crushed pink roses drooping against her neck, then her gaze dwelt upon the woman under the chandelier.

Unusually tall, and proportionately developed, her size might safely have been pronounced heroic, and would by comparison have dwarfed a man of less commanding stature than Mr. Palma; yet so symmetrical was the outline of face and figure that the type seemed wellnigh faultless, and she might have served as a large-limbed rounded model for those majestic women whom Buonaroti painted for the admiration of all humanity, upon the walls of the Sistine.

The face was oval, with a remarkably low but full brow, a straight finely-cut nose, very wide between the eyes, which were large, almond-shaped, and of a singularly radiant grey, with long curling gold-tinted lashes. Her complexion was of that peculiar creamy colourlessness, which is found in the smooth petals of a magnolia, and the lips were outlined in bright carmine that hinted at chemical combinations, so ripe and luscious was the tint.

Had she really stepped down from some glorious old Venetian picture, bringing that crown of hair, of the true "biondina" hue, so rare nowaday, and never seen in perfection save among the marbles and lagunes of crumbling Venice? Was it natural, that mass of very pale gold, so pale that it seemed a flossy heap of raw silk, or had she by some subtle stroke of skill discovered the secret of that beautiful artificial colouring, which was so successfully practised in the days of Giorgione?

Her dress was velvet, of that light lilac tint which only perfect complexions dare approach, was cut very low and square in front and trimmed with a profusion of gossamer white lace. Diamonds flashed on her neck and arms, and in the centre of the puffed and crimped hair a large butterfly of diamonds scattered light upon the yellow mass.

Mr. Palma was smiling at some low spoken sentence that rippled like Italian poetry over her full lips, when his eye detected the figure hovering near the door, and at once he advanced, and drew her in.

Without taking her hand, his fingers just touched her sleeve, as walking beside her he said:

"Mrs. Carew must allow me the pleasure of presenting my ward Miss
Orme, who has most unpardonably detained us from our soup."

The stranger smiled and offered her hand.

"Ah, Miss Orme! I shall never pardon you for stealing the only heart whose loyalty I claim. My little Llora saw you at Mrs. Brompton's, heard you sing, and was enchanted with your eyes, which she assured me were 'blue as the sky, ma mÈre, and like violets with black lace quilled around them.'"

Regina barely touched the ivory hand encrusted with costly jewels, and Mr. Palma drew her near a sofa, where sat a noble-looking elderly gentleman, slightly bald, and whose ample beard and long moustache were snow-white, although his eyebrows were black, and his fine brown eyes sparkled with the fire and enthusiasm of youth.

"My ward, Miss Orme, has a juvenile reverence for Congressmen, whom knowing only historically, she fondly considers above and beyond the common clay of mankind, regards them as the worthy successors of the Roman Patres Conscripti, and in the Honourable Mr. Chesley she is doubtless destined to realize all her romantic ideas relative to American statesmen. Regina, Mr. Chesley represents California in the council of the nation, and can tell you all about those wonderful canons of which you were speaking last week."

The guest took her fingers, shook them cordially, and looking into his fine face, the girl felt a sudden thrill run through her frame. What was there in the soft brown eyes, and shape of the brow that was so familiar, that made her heart beat so fiercely?

Mechanically she sat down near him, failing to answer some trivial question from Mrs. Palma, and bowing in an absent preoccupied manner to the remainder of the guests.

Fortunately dinner was announced immediately, and as Mrs. Palma moved away on Mr. Chesley's arm, while Mr. Palma gave his to Mrs. Carew, Regina felt a cold hand seize hers, and lead her forward.

"Mr. Roscoe, where did you secrete yourself? I was not aware that you were in the room."

"Standing near the window, watching you bow to every one else. Your guardian requested me to hand you in to dinner."

Something in his voice and manner annoyed her, and looking up, she said coldly;

"My guardian is very kind; but I regret that his consideration in providing me an escort has taxed your courtesy so severely."

Before he could reply they had reached the table, and, glancing at the card attached to the bouquet at each plate, Regina found her chair had been placed next to Mr. Chesley's, while Olga was her vis-À-vis.

"If I ask you it question, will you answer it truly?" said Elliott.

"That depends entirely upon what it may prove. If a proper one, I shall answer it truly; otherwise, not at all."

"Was it of your own free will, without advice or bias, that you refused the interview I asked you to grant me?"

"It was."

"My cousin influenced you adversely?"

"No, sir."

"He is purely selfish in his course toward——"

"At least it is ungrateful and unbecoming in you to accuse him, and I will not hear you."

She turned her face toward Mr. Chesley, who was carrying on an animated conversation with Mrs. Palma, and some moments elapsed before Elliott resumed:

"Regina, I must see you alone, sometime this evening."

"Why?"

"To demand an explanation of what I have seen and heard,—otherwise I would not credit."

"I have no explanations to offer on any subject. If you refer to a conversation which Mr. Palma had with me yesterday at your request, let me say once for all, that I cannot consent to its revival. Mr. Roscoe, we are good friends now, I hope; but we should be such no longer, if you persist in violating my wishes in this matter."

"What I wish to say to you involves your own safety and happiness."

"I am grateful for your kind intentions, but they result from some erroneous impression. My individual welfare is bound up with those whom you know not, and at all events I prefer not to discuss it."

"You refuse me the privilege of a confidential talk with you?"

"Yes, Mr. Roscoe. Now be pleasant, and let us converse on some more agreeable topic. Did you ever meet Mrs. Carew until to-day?"

He was too angry to reply immediately; but after a little while mastered his indignation.

"I have the pleasure of knowing Mrs. Carew quite well."

"She is remarkably beautiful."

"Oh, unquestionably! And she knows it better than any other article in her creed. New York is spoiling her dreadfully."

He turned and addressed some remarks to Miss St. Clare, who sat on his right, and Regina rejoiced in the opportunity afforded her of becoming a quiet observer and listener. She had never seen her guardian so animated, so handsome as now, while he smiled genially and talked with his lovely guest, and watching them, Regina recollected the remark concerning their appearance which had been made by the gentleman in the car.

Was it possible that after all the lawyer's heart had been seriously interested? Could that satin-cheeked, grey-eyed Circe with pale yellow hair and lashes, hold him in silken bonds at her feet? The idea that he could be captivated by any woman seemed utterly incompatible with all that his ward knew of his life and character, and it had appeared an established fact that he was incapable of any tender emotion; but certainly at this instant the expression with which he was gazing down into Mrs. Carew's lotos face, was earnestly admiring. While Regina watched the pair, a cold sensation crept over her as on some mild starlit night, one suddenly and unconsciously drifts under the lee of some vast, slow-sailing iceberg, and knows not, dreams not, of danger until smitten with the fatal prophetic chill.

Suppose the ambitious middle-aged man intended to marry this wealthy, petted, lovely widow, was it not in all respects a brilliant suitable match, which le beau monde would cordially applaud? Was there a possibility that she would decline an alliance with that proud patrician, whose future seemed dazzling?

In birth, fortune, and beauty could he find her superior?

The flowers in the tall gold epergne in the centre of the table, and the wreath of scarlet camellias that swung down to meet them from the green bronze chandelier, began to dance a saraband. Silver, crystal, china, even the human figures appeared whirling in a misty circle, across which the orange, emerald, and blue tints of the hock glasses shot hither and thither like witch-lights on the Brocken; and indistinct and spectral, yet alluring, gleamed the almond-shaped grey eyes with their gold fringes.

With a quick unsteady motion Regina grasped and drained a goblet of iced-water, and after a little while the mist rolled away, and she heard once more the voices that had never for an instant ceased their utterances.

The shuttlecock of conversation was well kept up from all sides of the table, and when Regina's thoughts crept back from their numbing reverie, Mr. Chesley was eloquently describing some of the most picturesque localities in Oregon and California.

Across the table floated a liquid response.

"I saw in Philadelphia a large painting of that particular spot, and though not remarkably well done, it enables one to form an approximate idea of the grandeur of the scenery."

Mr. Chesley bowed to Mrs. Carew, and answered: "I met the artist, while upon his sketching tour, and was deeply interested in his success. At one time, I hoped he would cast matrimonial anchor in San Francisco, and remain among us; but his fickle fair one deserted him for a young naval officer, and after her marriage, California possessed few charms for him. I pitied poor Eggleston most cordially."

"Then permit me to assure you, that you are needlessly expending your sympathy, for I bear witness to the fact that his wounds have cicatrized. A fair Philadelphian has touched them with her fairy finger, and at present he bows at another shrine."

Shivering with sympathy for Olga, Regina could not refrain from looking at her, while Mrs. Carew spoke, and marvelled at the calm deference, the smiling insouciance with which her hazel eyes rested on the speaker. Then they wandered as if accidentally to the countenance of Mr. Palma, and a lambent flame seemed to kindle in their brown depths.

"Mr. Eggleston has talent, and I am surprised that he has not been more successful," replied the Congressman.

Mr. Palma was pressing Mrs. St. Clare to take more wine, and appeared deaf to the conversation, but Mrs. Carew's flute-like voice responded:

"Yes, a certain order of talent for mere landscape painting; but he should never attempt a higher or different style. He made a wretched copy of the Crucifixion for a wealthy retired tailor, who boasts of his investments in 'virtue and bigotry;' and I fear I gave mortal offence by venturing to say to the owner, that it reminded me of the criticism of Luis de Vargas on a similar failure: 'Methinks he is saying, Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.'"

"A propos! of pictures. Mrs. Carew, I must arrange to have you see a superb new painting recently hung upon the wall at the 'Century,' and ask your opinion of its merit——"

Regina did not catch the remainder of her guardian's sentence, which she felt assured was intended to divert the conversation and shield Olga, for just then Mr. Chesley asked to fill her glass, and the talk drifted away to less dangerous topics.

Irresistibly attracted by some subtle charm in his manner she found herself drawn into a pleasant dialogue with him relative to some startling incidents which he narrated of the early miners in the far West. Watching his face, she puzzled her brain with the solution of the singular familiarity it possessed. She had never met him until to-day, and yet her heart wanned toward him more and more.

At length she ventured the question: "Did you leave your family in
California?"

"Unfortunately I have no family, and no relatives. My dear young lady, is it not melancholy to find a confirmed old bachelor, verging fast upon decrepitude, with no one to look after or care for him? When I was a good-looking young beau, and should have been hunting me a bonny blue-eyed bride, I was digging gold from the rocky ribs of mountains in Western solitudes. When I made my fortune, I discovered too late that I had given my youth in exchange."

"I should think, sir, that you might still marry, and be very happy."

His low pleasant laugh did not embarrass her, and he answered:

"You are very kind to kindle that beacon of encouragement, but I fear your charitable sympathy clouds your judgment. Do you imagine any fair young girl could brave my grey hairs and wrinkles?"

"A young girl would not suit you, sir; but there must be noble middle-aged ladies whom you could admire, and trust, and love?"

He bent his white head, and whispered:

"Such, for instance, as Mrs. Carew, who converts all places into
Ogygia?"

Without lifting her eyes, she merely shook her head, and he continued:

"Miss Orme, all men have their roseleaf romance. Mine expanded very early, but fate crumpled, crushed it into a shapeless ruin, and leaving the wreck behind me, I went to the wilds of California. Since then, I have missed the humanising influence of home ties, of feminine association; but as I look down the hill, when the sun of my life is casting long shadows, I sometimes feel that it would be a great blessing had I a sister, cousin, niece, or even an adopted daughter, whom I could love and lean upon in my lonely old age. Once I seriously entertained the thought of selecting an orphan from some Asylum, and adopting her into my heart and home."

"When you do, I sincerely hope she will prove all that you wish, and faithfully requite your goodness."

She spoke so earnestly that he smiled, and added:

"Can you recommend one to me? I envy Palma his guardianship, and if I could find a young girl like you, I should not hesitate to solicit——"

"Pardon me, Mr. Chesley, but Mr. Palma is endeavouring to attract your notice," said Mrs. Palma.

The host held in his hand an envelope.

"A telegram for you. Shall I direct the bearer to wait?"

"With your permission, I will examine it."

Having glanced at the lines, he turned the sheet of paper over, and with a pencil wrote a few words; then handed it to Terry, requesting him to direct the bearer to have the answer promptly telegraphed.

"Nothing unpleasant, I trust?" said Mr. Palma.

"Thank you, no. Only a summons which obliges me to curtail my visit, and return to Washington by the midnight train."

Interpreting a look from her stepson, Mrs. Palma hastened the slow course of the dinner by a whisper to the waiter behind her chair; and as she asked some questions relative to mutual friends residing in Washington, Regina had no opportunity of renewing the conversation.

Mr. Roscoe was assiduous in his attentions to Miss St. Clare, and Regina looked over at Olga, who was talking very learnedly to a small gentleman, a prominent and erudite scientist, whose knitted eyebrows now and then indicated dissatisfaction with her careless manner of handling his pet theories.

Her cheeks glowed, her eyes sparkled, and a teasing smile sat upon her lips, as she recklessly rolled her irreverent ball among his technical ten pins; and repeated defiantly:

"Is old Religion but a spectre now,
Haunting the solitude of darkened minds,
Mocked out of memory by the sceptic day?
Is there no corner safe from peeping Doubt?"

"But, Miss Neville, I must be allowed to say that you do not in the least grasp the vastness of this wonderful law of 'Natural Selection,' of the 'Survival of the Fittest,' which is omnipotent in its influence."

"Ah, but my reverence for Civilization cries out against your savage enactments! Look at the bulwarks of defence which Asylums and Hospitals lift against the operation of your merciless decree. The maimed, the feeble, the demented, become the wards of religion and charity; the Unfittest of humanity are carefully preserved, and the race is retarded it its development. Civilized legislation and philanthropy are directly opposed to your 'Survival of the Fittest;' and since I am not a tattooed princess of the South Pacific, allowed to regale myself with croquettes of human brains, or a ragoÛt of baby's ears and hands, well flavoured with wine and lemon, I accepted civilization. I believe China is the best place for the successful testing of your theory, for there the unfittest have for centuries been destroyed; yet I have not heard that the superior, the 'Coming Race,' has appeared among the tea farms."

Elevating his voice, the small gentleman appealed to his host.

"I thought Mr. Palma too zealous a disciple of Modern Science to permit Miss Neville to indulge such flagrant heresies. She has absolutely denied that the mental development of a horse, or a dog, or ape is strictly analogous to that of man——"

"Quote me correctly, I pray you, Doctor; to that of women, if you please," interrupted Olga.

"She believes that it is not a difference of degree (which we know to be the case), but of kind; not comparative, but structural—you understand. How can you tolerate such schism in your household? Moreover, she scouts the great Spencerian organon."

"Olga is too astute not to discover the discrepancy between the theory of Scientists and the usages of civilized society, whose sanitary provisions thwart and neutralize your law in its operations upon the human race. 'Those whom it saves from dying prematurely, it preserves to propagate dismal and imperfect lives. In our complicated modern communities, a race is being run between moral and mental enlightenment, and the deterioration of the physical and moral constitution through the defeasance of the law of Natural Selection.'"

Lifting her champagne glass, Olga sipped the amber bubbles from its brim, and slightly bent her head in acknowledgment.

"Thanks. I disclaim any doubt of the accuracy of his pedigree from the monad, through the ape, up to the present erudite philosopher; but I humbly crave permission to assert a far different lineage for myself. Pray, Doctor, train your battery now upon Mr. Palma, and since he assails you with Greg, minus quotation marks, require him to avow his real sentiments concerning that sentence in 'De Profundis': 'That purely political conception of religion which regards the Ten Commandments as a sort of 'cheap defence' of property and life, God Almighty as an ubiquitous and unpaid Policeman, and Hell as a self-supporting jail, a penal settlement at the Antipodes!'"

Prudent Mrs. Palma rose at that moment, and the party left the dining-room.

Mrs. St. Clare called Regina to her sofa, to make some inquiries about the Cantata, and when the latter was released, he saw that both Mr. Chesley and Mr. Palma were absent.

A half-hour elapsed, during which Olga continued to annoy the learned small man with her irreverent flippancy, and Mrs. Carew seemed to fascinate the two gentlemen who hovered about her like eager moths around a lamp. Then the host and Congressman came in together, and Regina saw her guardian cross the room, and murmur something to his fair client, who smilingly assented.

Mr. Chesley looked at the widow, and at Olga, and his eyes came back, and dwelt upon the young girl who stood leaning against Mrs. Palma's chair.

Her dress was a pearl white alpaca, with no trimming, save tulle ruchings at throat and wrists, and a few violets fastened in the cameo Psyche that constituted her brooch.

Pure, pale, almost sad, she looked in that brilliant drawing-room like some fragile snowdrop, astray in a bed of gorgeous peonies and poppies.

Lifting her eyes to her host, as he leaned over the back of her sofa,
Mrs. Carew said:

"Miss Orme poses almost faultlessly; she has evidently studied all the rules of the art. Quite pretty too; and her hair has a peculiar gloss that reminds one of the pounded peach-stones with which Van Dyck glazed his pictures."

The fingers of the hand that hung at his side clenched suddenly, but adjusting his glasses more firmly he said very quietly:

"My ward is not quite herself this evening, and is really too unwell to be downstairs; but appeared at dinner in honour of your presence, and in deference to my wishes. Shall I ring for your wrappings? The carriage is waiting."

"When I have kissed my cherub good-night, I shall be ready."

He gave her his arm to the foot of the stairs, and returning, announced his regret that Mrs. Carew was pledged to show herself at a party, to which he had promised to escort her. Whereupon the other ladies remembered that they also had promised to be present.

Mr. Chesley, standing at some distance, had been very attentively studying Regina's face, and now approaching her, took her hand with a certain tender courtesy that touched her strangely.

"My dear Miss Orme, I think we are destined to become firm fast friends, and were I not compelled to hurry back to Washington to oppose a certain bill, I should endeavour to improve our acquaintance. Before long I shall see you again, and meanwhile you must help me to find an adopted daughter as much like yourself as possible, or I shall be tempted to steal you from Palma. Good-bye. God bless you."

His earnest tone and warm pressure of her fingers thrilled her heart, and she thought his mild brown eyes held tears.

"Good-bye, sir. I hope we shall meet again."

"You may be sure we shall."

He leaned down, and as he looked at her, she saw his mouth tremble.

A wild conjecture flashed across her brain, and her hand clutched his spasmodically, while her heart seemed to stand still. Was Mr. Chesley her father?

Before she could collect her thoughts, he turned away and left the room, accompanied by Mr. Palma, who during the evening bad not once glanced toward her.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page