MR. LORD'S LETTER.
The friendship that had sprung up between Claire Keith and Mrs.
Ralston, grew and strengthened as the days went by.
Claire's enthusiasm had overflowed in more than one letter to Olive.
The oft-repeated wish that her new friend and her much loved sister
might meet, had at last drawn from that somewhat preoccupied sister a
very cordial invitation to bring Mrs. Ralston to New York.
When this invitation came, Claire, feeling that it was now time to
unfold to her friend the sad pages of Olive's history, sought her for
that purpose. But as she deemed that the time had not yet come for
telling anyone of the hoped-for lifting of the cloud, especially as to
do so she must tell too of Madeline, she refrained from mentioning the
names of the actors in that miserable drama.
Mrs. Ralston was deeply interested in the story of Olive's sorrow; and
having heard it, she felt a stronger desire than before to see this
beautiful, sad-hearted sister, who was so beloved by Claire. Bending
down she kissed the fair face, flushed with the excitement Claire
always felt when recounting her sister's wrongs, and those of Philip
Girard, and said, tenderly:
"Thank your sister in my name, my darling. And tell her that I will
certainly avail myself of her kind invitation, at some future time."
Claire's eyes danced eagerly. "Oh, I wish we could go now--at least,
soon."
Fate chose to grant Claire's desire in a most unexpected manner, for
while they were still sitting, talking, in the semi-twilight, the
library door opened and a servant announced Mr. Allyne, to see Mrs.
Ralston. At once Mrs. Keith and her daughter arose to leave the room.
But Mrs. Ralston said, earnestly:
"Pray, do not go; there can be no need for a private interview."
And as at that moment Mr. Allyne himself appeared on the threshold,
the ladies all advanced to welcome him, and, this ceremony being over,
resumed their seats.
"I have just received this letter from Mr. Lord," said Mr. Allyne,
after some moments of general conversation. "Read it, and then tell me
your opinion of its contents."
The lady took the letter, looking the while somewhat anxious. As she
read, the look of apprehension deepened. When at last she dropped the
letter, her hands were trembling visibly, and her face was pale and
agitated. For a moment she sat in silence, her eyes full of fear and
her hands working nervously. Then she seemed to recover herself by a
powerful effort of will. Taking up the letter, she placed it in the
hand of Mrs. Keith, saying: "Read it, dear friend."
Mrs. Keith took the letter and read:
NEW YORK, Dec. 7th.
WM. ALLYNE, ESQ.,
_Dear Sir:_--A man assuming to be a lawyer called on me this
afternoon, and requested information regarding our friend,
Mrs. Ralston. If I am not much mistaken he is in reality a
detective--I think I remember him in the Mallory case--and
is, doubtless, looking up evidence in regard to the lady's
second and most unfortunate marriage, either at the
instigation of her vagabond husband or some of his supposed
heirs.
If you know the present address of Mrs. R., it would be well
to communicate with her, as some of her old servants are now
in this city, at service, and this fellow might ferret out
something through them.
Having no authority to act in the matter, I could do no more
than baffle this man's inquiries so far as I was concerned,
much as I desire to serve the lady when I know the way.
One thing: the fellow evidently believes in the story of her
death.
Yours, etc., J. M. LORD.
The three, Mrs. Ralston, Claire and Mr. Allyne, listened in silence
while Mrs. Keith read this letter. When at last she raised her eyes,
Mrs. Ralston said:
"I must go to New York immediately, Mrs. Keith, and do, pray, allow
Claire to accompany me. I must accept of the hospitality of Mrs.
Girard, and I can not go alone."
Mrs. Keith looked grave for a moment. Then, she said: "Mr. Allyne, is
it necessary that Mrs. Ralston should go at once?"
"I think it advisable," replied Mr. Allyne. "Once in New York, Lord
can receive Mrs. Ralston's instructions, and act for her. In cases
like these I don't think it is best to trust to correspondence."
"And, oh! don't let us delay a moment! Once there, I can keep my old
servants, who are all true friends, from inadvertently betraying me.
And I can trust Mr. Lord to find out who is the instigator of this
search," said Mrs. Ralston, eagerly. "Mr. Allyne, when can we start;
how soon?"
"Not earlier than to-morrow morning."
"Claire, can you be ready on such short notice?" asked the now anxious
lady.
"I? Oh, yes, indeed!" laughed the girl. "I could be ready in an hour!
I do detest waiting--don't you, Mrs. Ralston?"
"Very much, just now," said that lady, making an effort to smile;
"forgive me, dear friends, but I am really unstrung. The thought of
being hunted by that man is too horrible, after these years of
peace."
"Then don't think of it, dear Mrs. Ralston," cooed Claire. "You will
be as safe as safe in the seclusion of my sister's villa. And you can
set things straight soon, when we have arrived. There can't be much to
fear, can there, Mr. Allyne?"
"Nothing very formidable," said the banker, rising to take his leave.
"Pray, don't exaggerate the trouble, Mrs. Ralston. Prompt attention,
such as Lord will give the matter, will make all safe. Besides, he is
not hunting _you_; the man thinks you dead."
"True; I had forgotten," said the lady, looking somewhat reassured.
"Claire, we will pack to-night, and then try and be content until it
is time to go."
"Meantime, I will telegraph to Lord and let him know that you will
come, and when," said Mr. Allyne, taking up his hat to depart.
The morning of their departure dawned clear and bright. Claire was in
extravagant spirits, while even Mrs. Ralston seemed to catch the
infectious cheeriness of the day, and her companion's mood.
When they were about to enter the carriage that was to take them to
the depot, a letter was put into the hand of Miss Keith. She flung
back her veil and leaning back among the cushions perused it in
attentive silence. Having finished, she looked up with a little frown
upon her brow, and exclaimed:
"How very provoking!"
Mrs. Ralston looked alarmed. "Is your sister ill?"
"Oh, no; it's Madeline."
"The young girl I have heard you speak of?"
"Yes."
"Is _she_ ill?"
"No; she got well, just to avoid me; she is gone."
"Gone?"
"Yes; or will be, when we arrive. Why, how stupid I am not to explain!
Madeline Payne has been with Olive nearly a week. She has been sick,
but is better, and will leave there to-day."
Claire had said but little concerning Madeline, fearing lest in her
enthusiasm she should say too much. But she had revolved many plans
for bringing about a meeting between Mrs. Ralston and her "brave
girl."