Glengrove was one of the most beautiful spots in the south of
Florida. The house--similar to many in the South in style of
architecture--stood in the midst of charming grounds which were
filled with flowers. To the left of the house was a large shrubbery
which opened on to a wide carriage-drive leading to the main road,
but the principal attraction of Glengrove was its magnificent
orange grove, where the brilliant sunshine loved to linger longest
among the dark-green boughs, painting the luscious fruit with its
own golden coloring--from green to gold. A low stone wall divided
it from the beach which led to the sea.
It was early morning. In an elegant boudoir, whose oriel window
overlooked the garden, sat three young ladies, respectively, Bessie
Glenn, two-and-twenty; Gertie Glenn, twenty; and Eve Glenn,
eighteen--all dark-eyed, dark-haired, and handsome, yet each of a
distinct different type.
"I declare, Bess," cried Gertie, indignantly, twisting the telegram
she held in her hand into a wisp, "it's from Uncle Jet! Guess what he
says!"
"I couldn't possibly," yawns Bess, from the depths of her easy-chair;
"it's too much trouble."
"Is it about Alice?" questioned Eve, maliciously.
"Yes," replied Gertie; "but you are to try and guess what it is."
"Why, I suppose some stranger has chanced to flutter down into the
quiet little village of Elmwood, and Alice thinks it her duty to stay
there and capture him."
"That isn't it at all," snapped Gertie. "Uncle Jet says Alice can not
come; but he has taken the liberty of sending another young lady in
her stead, and hopes Miss Daisy Brooks will be the right person in the
right place. She will arrive on the twentieth, at nine A. M."
Eve jumped to her feet in actual astonishment, and even Bessie dropped
her novel, with widely opened eyes.
"Just fancy some tall, gaunt old maid of a companion, with such a
name!" she cried, raising her eyebrows and picking up her book again.
"I think you will find the daisy a rather ancient and faded flower."
"She couldn't be anything else," assented Gertie.
"Wouldn't it be fun if she should turn out to be young and pretty, and
take the shine off both of you?" laughed Eve, puckering up her mouth.
"I would enjoy it immensely!"
"Eve, will you hold your tongue?" commanded Bessie, sharply.
"You'd better hold your temper!" retorted Eve.
"Pshaw! what's the use of being so silly as to quarrel over a Miss
Nobody?" cried Gertie, stamping her pretty slippered foot. "Guess what
else is the news."
"Haven't I told you I despise guessing?" cried Bess, angrily. "It is
not good form to insist upon a person's guessing--please remember
it."
"Write it down on ice," said Eve, _sotto voce_, mimicking her elder
sister's tone.
"Well," said Gertie, with a look of triumph, "I drove over to Mrs.
Lyon's yesterday to see how everything was progressing for that
contemplated marriage, and, lo! she informs me the wedding is
postponed for the present, and Rex--handsome Rex--is coming home
alone."
"No--o!" cried both the sisters in chorus.
Bess sat bolt upright, and Eve danced around the room clapping her
hands.
"I don't think much of a marriage which has been postponed," said
Bess, a bright spot glowing on both of her cheeks. "Who knows but what
one of us may have a chance of winning handsome Rex Lyon, after all?
He is certainly a golden prize!"
"'Don't count the chickens,' etc.," quoted Eve, saucily.
"Gertrude!" said Bess, severely, "you will learn after awhile never to
speak before Eve. She is as liable to do mischief as her namesake was
in the Garden of Eden."
"You ought never to go back on your own sex," retorted Eve, banging
the door after her as she quitted the room, Rover, an ugly-looking
mastiff, closely following at her heels.
"That is certainly an astonishing piece of news," said Bess,
reflectively, smoothing out the folds of her white cashmere morning
wrapper. "Now, here's a plan for you, Gertie. Find out his address in
some way, and we will write to him on some pretext or other. Rex has
probably quarreled with the haughty heiress of Whitestone Hall, and
one of us ought certainly to catch his heart in the rebound. Send him
an invitation to your birthday party, Gertie."
"I would be more likely to succeed than you, Bess," said Gertie,
rocking complacently to and fro, and looking maliciously at her
sister. "You remember he once remarked he did not like tall ladies,
and you are certainly tall, Bess."
"Well, I'd rather be tall and willowy and graceful, than short and fat
and dumpy," jerked out Bess, spitefully.
"What! at swords' points yet, eh? Ha, ha, ha!" cried Eve, suddenly,
popping her head in at the door. "I'll be back after awhile to see
which one of you gets the best of it."
Before either of the sisters had time to reply, the family carriage
dashed suddenly up to the porch, and a moment later a slight,
dark-robed little figure was ushered into their presence.
"This is Miss Brooks, mum," said Jim, the coachman, addressing the
elder sister.
"I'd like to know why you have brought her in here?" cried Bess,
angrily. "Why did you not take her into the servants' hall or into the
kitchen?"
But Jim had disappeared.
"Well, now that you are here, you might sit down," suggested Gertie,
wondering what kind of a face was hid behind the long, thick, clinging
veil. "You may lay aside your bonnet and veil."
Trembling and sick at heart with the cold greeting which had been
given her, Daisy did as she was bid.
"Why, I declare, you are younger than I am!" cried Eve, impulsively.
"We were all expecting to see a wrinkled, dried-up old maid. Why,
you'd make a much better companion for me than for mother."
"E--v--e!" cried the elder Miss Glenn, severely, "be kind enough to
leave the room."
"I sha'n't go one step until I have had my say out," cried Eve,
planting herself firmly down on a hassock in the middle of the floor.
"Nobody likes me because I'm rude and free-spoken," declared Eve,
addressing Daisy; "but I believe in letting people know just what I am
to begin with. I'm not one of these sleek, smooth, tigery creatures
that hide their claws under velvet-paws. We are three model sisters,"
she went on, recklessly; "we have tremendous spats--when we are here
alone; but if a visitor happens in we all sit with our arms around one
another, 'just to have the appearance' of affection, you know."
The elder Miss Glenn arose with dignity, motioning Daisy to follow
her.
"Papa will see you later, Eve, dear," she said, with a baleful glitter
in her sloe-black eyes; and as Daisy followed her she could not help
but compare her with Pluma Hurlhurst, with that treacherous, mocking
smile playing about her full, red lips--and quite unconsciously poor
little Daisy fell to thinking.
"Rex will go back to Pluma Hurlhurst now," she thought, with a bitter
sigh. "He has cast me out of his life; he will go back and marry
her."
Poor, innocent Daisy, how little she knew of life or the insurmountable
barrier which lay between the haughty, scheming heiress and Rex--her
husband!
"I was asking you if you resided in Elmwood, Miss Brooks," said Bess,
raising her voice. "I have asked you twice."
"I beg your pardon; please forgive me," said Daisy, flushing
painfully. "I--I was not aware you had spoken. No, I lived near
Elmwood--between there and Baltimore."
Daisy was sorely afraid Miss Glenn would ask her to name the exact
location. She did not, however, much to Daisy's relief. By this time
they had reached the door of Mrs. Glenn's room, and as it was
slightly ajar Bessie pushed it open without further ceremony and
entered.
"Has Miss Brooks come yet?" asked a thin, querulous voice.
"Yes," answered Bessie; "here she is, mamma."
The room was so dark Daisy could scarcely distinguish the different
objects for a moment or so. She saw, however, a dark figure on a couch
and a white jeweled hand waving a fan indolently to and fro. A sudden
impulse came over Daisy to turn and run away, but by a great effort
she controlled her feelings.
"Step forward, if you please, Miss Brooks. I can not observe you well
at such a distance; do not tread on the poodle on the rug or brush
against the bric-à-brac placed indiscriminately about the room."
"Oh, dear, if there were only a light," thought Daisy, in dismay. She
was afraid of taking a single step for fear some of the bric-à-brac
mentioned, either at the right or left of her, should come crashing
down under her blundering little feet.
"I always exclude the broad glare of early morning light, as I find it
especially trying."
As she spoke she threw back one of the shutters with the end of her
fan, and a warm flood of invigorating sunshine poured into the room.
"Dear me," she cried, staring hard at the beautiful little face before
her. "Why, you are a child, scarcely older than my Eve. What could
that stupid brother of mine mean by sending you to me? I have a notion
to send you back again directly."
"Oh, please do not, madame," cried Daisy, piteously. "Only try me
first; I will do my very best to please you."
"But I did not want a young person," expostulated Mrs. Glenn.
"But you sent for Alice, his daughter, and--and he thought I would do
as well," faltered Daisy, timidly.
"Alice Jet is over forty, and you are not more than sixteen, I should
judge. How did you happen to think you could do as well as she?"
The color came and went on Daisy's pretty flower-like face, and her
heart throbbed pitifully.
"I am not so very wise or learned," she said, "but I should try so
hard to please you, if you will only let me try."
"I suppose, now that you are here, we will have to make the best of
it," replied Mrs. Glenn, condescendingly.
The fair beauty of the young girl's face did not please her.
"I have always dreaded fair women," she thought to herself, "they are
the most dangerous of rivals. If she stays at Glengrove I shall see
she is kept well in the background."
While in the morning-room below the three girls were discussing the
new turn of affairs vigorously.
"I am determined she shall not remain here," Bessie Glenn was saying.
"I heartily indorse your opinion," said Gertie, slowly.
And for once in her life the tongue of reckless Eve was silent. She
looked thoughtfully out of the window.