FACE TO FACE.
It is surprising to note how many pretexts a resolute, husband-hunting
spinster can find for keeping a victim at her side, long after his
soul has left her, and gone forth with yearning for a downy couch, a
fragrant cheroot, or a fairer face.
Edward Percy could be agreeable, for a reasonable length of time, to a
very ugly woman. But even he felt himself an injured man when, at a
late hour, he said good-night for the eleventh time to his fair
enslaver--literally an enslaver, he thought. As the door of Oakley
manor actually and audibly closed behind him, he heaved a sigh of
gratification, and strode rapidly down the winding avenue.
When the first group of trees had sheltered him from the view of the
infatuated spinster, should she still be gazing after him, Mr. Percy
paused, and standing in the shadow, produced a cigar and was
proceeding to light it, when a hand fell lightly upon his arm, and he
turned with a confused idea that she had followed him, and was about
to lead him back a prisoner. But the figure that he dimly saw was,
certainly, not that of Miss Arthur.
"Pardon, monsieur! but I have a message for you."
"Ye gods!" ejaculated the aggrieved man.
Evidently the girl interpreted his thoughts, for she stifled a laugh
as she said, quickly: "Not from Miss Arthur, monsieur; but from
madame."
"Oh, from madame," drawing a long breath. "Well, even madame will be a
blessed relief; out with it, girl."
"Madame will be grateful, I am sure," said the girl, mockingly.
"Madame desires a word with you--now, to-night. Will you follow me?"
"Where?"
"To madame; she will be in the terrace arbor directly."
"Oh, very well," replacing his cigar in his pocket; "lead on, then."
Celine flitted on before, until the arbor became dimly visible down
the pathway. Then she paused, pointed it out to her companion, and
said: "Madame will soon join you there, sir. Now I must hasten to my
mistress; I have kept her waiting too long."
With a low, mischievous laugh she darted away in the direction of the
house.
Percy turned and gazed after her; then followed a few paces and
watched again, until she disappeared under a wide portico. Heaving a
sigh of relief he turned back toward the arbor.
"I want no eavesdropping," he muttered; "and that minx might listen if
she had time. She is no more a French maid than I am; she forgot her
_monsieur_ just now. But a sham maid is very appropriate for a sham
maiden; now for Alice;" and he entered the arbor.
[Illustration: "I am afraid for you. But give up now; never!"--page
167.]
Had Mr. Percy been able to follow the retreating footsteps of the
objectionable French maid, however, he might have found occasion
to change his opinion of her lack of time for eavesdropping,
and there was excellent opportunity for its practice about the
shrubbery-surrounded arbor.
* * * * *
Meantime Ellen Arthur, having reluctantly bidden her "blonde demi-god"
a last good-night, sought her chamber, swelling with satisfaction, and
feeling somewhat hungry. Passing the door of her sister-in-law's
rooms, she encountered Sarah, the romantic housemaid, who was just
entering, bearing wine and a tiny glass. Glancing within, she
encountered the gaze of Cora, who stood holding in her hand some black
lace drapery.
"Horribly late, isn't it?" yawned that lady, nodding good-naturedly.
"Set down the wine, Sarah, and then you may go. I'm so dismally
slumbersome that if I keep you to help me, I shall fall asleep on your
hands. Have some wine, Ellen?"
"No, thanks," said the spinster. "If you don't want Sarah, she may
bring me up a nice lunch as soon as possible. I won't detain you any
longer; good-night."
And Miss Arthur, who had meditated entering and giving Cora the
benefit of some of her maiden dreams and fancies, marched away, a
trifle offended at the manner in which her sleepy sister-in-law had
anticipated and warded off the interview. Cora's good-night floated
after her as she sailed down the corridor. Then she heard the door
closed and the bolt shot into the socket. A little later, the door
opened noiselessly, and a female figure glided down the dark stairways
out into the night, and toward the arbor.
"Celine shall undo my hair," Miss Arthur thought, "and I'll have her
try that new set of braids and puffs, if it is late. I don't feel as
if I could sleep."
But Celine was not dutifully waiting in her mistress's dressing-room.
Sarah appeared with the lunch, and offered her services, but was
summarily dismissed, for Miss Arthur did not deem it wise to initiate
the house servants into the fearful and wonderful mysteries of her
toilet. Therefore, she lunched in solitude and disgust, but heartily,
notwithstanding, having just put off her very elaborate, but rather
uncomfortable evening dress and donned a silken gown, acting as her
own maid.
Then she fidgeted herself into a most horrible temper, and sat
deliberately down before the grate in a capacious dressing-chair,
determined to wait until the girl came, and deliver a most severe and
stately reprimand, the exact words of which she had already determined
upon.
The lady, sitting thus with her feet on the fender, her hands
comfortably clasping the big arms of the dressing chair, and her head
lolling rather ungracefully over its back, fell into slumber.
* * * * *
If Mrs. John Arthur had made a midnight appointment with Lucifer, she
would have fortified herself for the encounter by making a "stunning"
toilet. It was one of her fixed principles--she had fixed
principles--never to permit friend or foe of the male persuasion to
gaze upon her charms when they would show at a disadvantage. So when
she entered the arbor, which was suffused with a soft moonlight glow
from a heavily-shaded lamp, for the arbor stood among dense shrubbery,
and but for this lamp would have been in Egyptian darkness, she was
indeed a personification of loveliness.
Ungracious as was his mood, Percy would not have been a beauty-adoring
mortal if he had not paid involuntary tribute to the charms of the
woman who was his bitterest foe. Gazing down upon her a moment, he
said in his soft legato:
"I am almost angry at you for being so beautiful, after having taken
yourself to other lovers, _Ma belle_."
The woman smiled triumphantly, as she threw herself into an easy
chair, and said in her softest, sweetest tone: "And did you expect me
to go mourning for you all these years, sir?"
"I don't think you were ever the woman to do that;" dropping lazily
into a rustic seat near her. "May I smoke?"
Cora nodded.
"Are you sure we are quite safe here?" looking about him. "Somehow, I
am suspicious of that sharp French maid."
"Quite sure," nodding again. "Mr. Arthur was in bed before I came out;
Miss Arthur was ordering up a lunch to her room, and the French maid
must needs be in attendance for an hour or more; and besides, I know
she is not at all dangerous. None of the other servants ever have
occasion to come here, and most of them are in bed by now."
"So your charming sister-in-law eats, does she? After parting from me,
too; ugh!"
"Eats? I should think so," laughing softly; "in her own room, when her
stays are not too tight."
"Spare me!"
He held up both hands in mock deprecation; then, dropping his
bantering tone, said, as he puffed at his cigar:
"But now to business. You did not come out here in such bewitching
toilet to tell me that my charmer eats?"
"Hardly," with a pretty shrug.
"For what, then?"
"To come to an understanding with you," coolly.
"As how?" in the same tone.
"As to our future standing with each other."
"I thought that was settled to-day?"
"Did you? I don't think it was settled."
"Well, what remains, fair Alice?"
"Will you drop that name?"
"For the present, yes; but with reluctance."
"Oh, certainly!" bitterly. "Now, what are we to be henceforth?"
"Friends, of course," knocking the ashes off his cigar.
"You and I may be allies; we can never be friends," she said,
scornfully.
"Don't trouble yourself to be insulting, Mrs.--a--Arthur."
"Then don't make me remember how I have hated you!"
"Have you really hated me? How singular."
"Very!" sarcastically; then: "If you don't drop that disagreeable tone
we shall quarrel. I wish to know what you want with Ellen Arthur."
"Shade of my grandmother! If you don't drop that disagreeable name, I
shall expire. Haven't I had enough of her for one day? Alice, I know
revenge is sweet, but spare me."
"Bother! I must talk about her, else how can we settle anything? Do
you suppose I am going to allow that sweet girl to be deceived?" This
with mock indignation.
"Oh, no; certainly not! Well, if I must, I must. First, then--"
"First, what position do you intend to take towards me?"
"That depends upon yourself."
"On conditions?"
"On conditions."
"Name them."
"I am to be received as an honored guest whenever I shall choose to
visit Oakley."
"Well."
"Next, you are to do all in your power to further my suit with
Miss--you know."
"That's an easy task."
"Lastly, you are to promise me not, now or at any future time, to
declare to any one aught you may know that might be to my
disadvantage."
"That is to say, I am not to tell Ellen Arthur, or others, that you
have two wives--"
"Softly; one, my dear, _one_. Mrs. Percy Jordan, number one, is dead;
you alone are left. You see, Alice, my dear, the thing is reversed.
You have two husbands now, while I--"
"Will have two wives as soon as you can get them!"
"Just so."
"And what guarantee have I that you will not betray me to Mr. Arthur?"
"The very best in the world; mutual interest."
Cora pondered. "I don't see but that you are right," she said, at
last. "It certainly will not be to your interest to attempt to annoy
me now, but how long is this truce to last?" looking at him keenly.
Percy smoked away in tranquil silence.
"Of course, I understand what you mean by a marriage with Miss
Arthur," scornfully. "How long will it take you to squander her
dollars? And after that, what will you do?"
"Question for question, fair cross examiner; how long do you intend
remaining so quietly here, the bond slave of this idiotic old man? And
what will you do when this play is played out?"
"Because I ran away from a profligate young husband, who had decoyed
me into an illegal marriage--illegal for me, but sufficiently binding
to have put you in the penitentiary for a bi--"
"Don't say it, my dear; don't. It's an ugly word, and, after all, are
we not both in the same boat?"
"No," angrily. "Do you think I have been so poorly schooled during
these years that you can make me think now that you have any hold upon
me? Bah! your case is but a flimsy one. When you deceived me into a
marriage with you, you had already another wife. You hid me away in a
suburban box of a cottage, fancying I would be content, like a bird in
a gilded cage. You never dreamed that meek little _I_ would follow
you, and find out from the woman's own lips that she had a prior claim
upon you!"
"Candidly, I didn't credit you with so much pluck," said Percy,
coolly.
"No! and when I charged you with your perfidy, and wept and upbraided
you, and then became pacified when you told me that every proof of
your marriage with that other was in your control, you did not dream
that I would feign submission until I had gained possession of the
proofs of both your marriages, and then run away?"
"And succeed in baffling my search for ten long years," supplemented
he, grandiloquently. "No, fair dame, I did not."
"Your search, indeed! It was not a very eager one."
"Well, in truth it was not. The fact is, your beauty entrapped me into
that very foolish marriage; but I was a trifle weary of blonde
loveliness in tears, etc., so I didn't get out the entire police
force, you see."
"And you wouldn't have found me if you had."
"Indeed! why not?"
"Because, if it will afford you any satisfaction to know at this late
stage of the game, I sailed for Europe the very day I quitted your
house."
"No!" opening his eyes in genuine astonishment. "Had it all cut and
dried? Well, I like that! Why, little woman, if you had only developed
one half the pluck latent in you, before you flitted, I would never
have given you 'just cause,' etc., for leaving me."
The woman smiled triumphantly, but made no other answer.
"Well, what next? I am really becoming interested in your career."
"Sorry I can't gratify your curiosity. My career has been a very
pleasant one--seeing the world; generally prosperous. And this brings
me back to the starting point: why should you think, because I left
you with good cause, ten years ago, that I must necessarily forsake,
sooner or later, a husband who is kindness itself, and who leaves no
wish of mine ungratified?"
"First reason," checking them off on his fingers: "Because you don't
love this old man, and love is the only bond that such women as you
will not break."
"Thanks!" ironically, bending her head.
"Second, because a dull country house, be it ever so elegant, will not
long satisfy you as an abiding place. I have not forgotten your
girlish taste for pomp, pageant and all manner of excitement; a taste
that has doubtless become fully developed by now. Third, because you
have, at this present moment, a lover whom you prefer above all
others, and to whom you will flee sooner or later."
"Perhaps you can substantiate that statement," sneered Cora.
"Well, not exactly; but I know women. My dear, say what you please to
me, but don't expect to be believed if you will insist upon doing the
devoted wife."
"I insist upon nothing," said Cora, rising, "and I have not time for
many more words. Let us come to the point at once: With my life, after
I left you, you have nothing to do; you know nothing of it now, and
you will learn no more from me. Of you, I know this much. I know that
you clung, after your fashion, to the skirts of your unfortunate wife,
spending her income and making her life miserable. I know that six
years ago you inherited a fortune from a distant relative. I know that
from that time you utterly neglected your wife, who had been an
invalid for years; and that soon after she died, heart-broken and
alone."
Percy turned upon her, and scrutinized her face keenly; then, coming
close to her, said, meaningly: "And then I wonder that you did not
come back to me."
For a moment the woman seemed confused, and off her guard. But she had
not sought an interview with this man without fully reviewing her
ground.
"I had ceased to care for you," she said, lifting her unflinching eyes
to his face; "and I did not need your money. Come, enough of the past;
you have squandered your fortune, and now you want another. You want
to put yourself still more into my power by marrying a third wife--so
be it; I consent."
"Not so fast. You are first to promise me to place in my hands, on my
'marriage morn,' those unpleasant little documents which you hold
against me. In return for which you will receive a sum of money, the
amount of said sum to be hereafter arranged. Then we go our separate
ways."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then, painful as it is, I must do my duty. You are to give me your
answer when I return to Bellair; no time for tricks, mind. If the
answer is no, then I interview Mr. John Arthur."
"And you return?--"
"The day after to-morrow."
"Then you shall have my answer. Until then--"
She swept him a stately courtesy, which he returned with a most
elaborate bow.
Without another word from either, they separated; she gliding swiftly
and silently toward the house, he going once more in the direction of
Bellair village.
* * * * *
How long she had slept it never afterward occurred to Miss Arthur to
inquire. Something recalled her from the land of visions, and starting
up in her chair she saw Celine, standing demurely before her, her face
wreathed in smiles, and no signs of any uncanny adventure lingering
about her.
Beholding her safe and sound Miss Arthur began to pour out upon the
luckless head of Celine, the vials of wrath prepared for her benefit.
The girl listened with a face indicative of some secret source of
amusement. Noting her look of evident unconcern, and the laughter she
seemed vainly striving to keep under, Miss Arthur brought her tirade
to an abrupt termination, and demanded to know what Miss Celine
Leroque saw, in her appearance, that was so very ludicrous.
Whereupon Miss Celine Leroque dropped upon a hassock, at the feet of
her irate mistress, and laughed outright--actually laughed
unreservedly, in the presence and despite the rage of the ancient
maiden!
[Illustration: "Then you shall have my answer. Until then--"--page
178.]
Then observing that she was preparing another burst of wrath, the
girl appeared to be struggling for composure, and vainly endeavoring
to articulate something, of which Miss Arthur could only catch the
name, "Mr. Percy." Thereupon she fairly bounced out of her chair,
demanding to know "what on earth" Mr. Percy had to do with her maid's
reprehensible conduct.
"Oh, mademoiselle, everything!" gasped Celine. "Only let me explain,
and mademoiselle will laugh, too. Oh, _Mon dieu, Mon dieu_!"
Calming herself by a violent effort, Celine told her story, and its
magic dispelled the wrath of her much neglected, sorely aggrieved
mistress. Such a pretty little story it was, interspersed with sly
looks, knowing nods, and rippling bursts of laughter. Listened to
with, first, disdainful silence; then, growing interest; last,
spasmodic giggles, _apropos_ ejaculations, and much blushing and
maidenly confusion.
"You see, mademoiselle, after you had gone down, I went to my room, to
take just a few little stitches upon some of my poor garments, that I
must wear to-morrow. I don't know how it was, but I sat on my bedside
thinking, after it was done, and fell off asleep."
"Off the bed?"
"Oh! no, no, mademoiselle; off into sleep, I mean. When I awoke I was
anxious to know how much time I had slept away, and came down to your
apartments. You were still in the drawing-room, and I passed on to the
kitchen, surprised to find that it was very late. 'I will hasten,' I
thought, 'and can so go to the village, and telegraph my sister before
my mistress rings for me;' for I didn't think," with a sly look, "that
you would be at liberty _very_ early in the evening. The--what you
name him?--a--operateur, was out, and I had to wait a little time.
Coming back so late, I became afraid of the woods, and took the path
along the highway. Entering at the front and coming up the avenue, I
was about to pass around by the east walk to the side entrance
when,--" stifling a laugh.
[Illustration: "O, Mademoiselle, every thing!" gasped Celine.--page
180.]
"Well?" impatiently.
"When the front door opened and I, standing in the shadow, saw the
light fall upon the face and figure of Monsieur Percy."
"Yes; go on."
"I mention this, mademoiselle, only to show you how I know so
positively that it _was_ monsieur who--oh! oh!" laughing again softly.
"Who?" with increased impatience; "who did what, girl?" eyeing her
suspiciously.
Celine composed herself and continued: "Seeing monsieur, I stopped,
for I did not wish him to discover me abroad so late. So I stood in
the thick shade until he should have passed. He came slowly toward me
and, just about four paces from my hiding-place, paused, turned and
looked, back at the house. I could see him gazing toward the upper
windows, and presently I saw your shadow upon the blind as you entered
your dressing-room. The light shone out from your window, too; and
after looking for a while, I heard him murmur to himself: 'That must
be her window; I believe I am bewitched, for I can't bear to lose its
light,' and then--"
"Stop laughing, you ridiculous girl! And what then?"
"And then, mademoiselle, he began walking up and down within sight of
your window--"
"Ah!" rapturously.
"Oui; and I--oh, mademoiselle, he was in the very path that I must
take to approach the side entrance. And he walked and walked, and I
waited and waited. Then I thought I would try getting around by the
other way, and creep up carefully from the terrace. So I crept along
to the other side, back of the arbor, and up the terrace, and managed
to reach the entrance unseen. _Mon Dieu_, mademoiselle, the door was
locked! I was shut out! What was I to do then? I sat me down in the
shadow of the portico and waited once more. After a terribly long time
I could see that he was not moving up and down. I peeped cautiously,
and he seemed to be departing. Then I came out stealthy as a cat, and
found that he was going away, and the reason--"
"The reason?"
"Oui, mademoiselle; the light in your room had disappeared."
"Disappeared!"
"Oui, mademoiselle. Then I bethought me there might yet be a chance. I
came up to the front entrance and tried the door. It was not locked.
My heart leaped for joy. I blessed the carelessness of the servants,
and stole cautiously in. I came to this room. All was dark; but the
coals there showed me your figure in the chair. I could not mistake
the graceful outlines of mademoiselle. I entered very quietly,
relighted your lamp--some little breeze must have flared it out while
you slept. I was looking at you, and wondering what you would say if
you knew how nearly crazy with love you had driven that stately,
handsome Monsieur Percy, when you awoke."
It is needless to say that, long before Celine had finished her
recital, her mistress was in the best of humors. Indeed, Celine's
volubly uttered, intensely flattering, highly probable recital, had an
exhilarating effect upon her; so much so, that the lady found sleep
now quite impossible. So poor Celine was doomed, after all, to build
the new braids and puffs into a wonderful edifice upon the head of
Miss Arthur, and to repeat over and again the sweet story of "how he
loved her."
The "wee sma'" hours were beginning to lengthen once more when Celine
was released from duty, and went wearily up to her room; wearily, yet
with undimmed eyes, and the mischievous dimples still lurking about
the corners of her mouth.
She muttered: "Bah! it is better than sleep, after all; if only the
others were as easily duped as she!"
By which words, a listener might have been led to suppose that Celine
Leroque had been practising deception upon some confiding individual.