Her jealous wrath, her wild threats, ended as she meant they should.
The Merediths were forced into compliance with her wishes. They could
not persuade her to remain at home, and they dared not let her go alone.
But this terrible revelation of her mind and temper thoroughly
disgusted the Merediths, and made them anxious over Laurie's future.
"Who would have dreamed that she was such a shrew? Why, there was
murder in her eyes as they flashed and glowed. She will lead our
brother a miserable life, I am sure," Edith said to her sister, as they
hurriedly packed their trunks for the unexpected visit to the Capital
City.
"Yes, and how sweet and gentle she seemed to be before she was sure of
Laurie. She was deceiving us all, then, in order to forward her cause,
and she succeeded so well, too, for we all praised her to Laurie, and
gave him no peace until he proposed to her. How she takes on the airs
of a queen. I should not be sorry if Laurie would jilt her outright!"
Io declared, spiritedly.
But, reckless in her fierce wrath and jealousy of their good or bad
opinion, Jewel had gone home to prepare for her trip. She rang the
bell furiously for Marie to come and pack her things.
No one responded at first; but when she went angrily down-stairs to
inquire for the delinquent, Mrs. Wellings started up from her doze in
the arm-chair to ask, stupidly:
"Is that you, Miss Fielding? Do--do you want me?"
"No," Jewel said, with a contemptuous glance at the dull face, "I want
Marie!"
"Oh!" said Mrs. Wellings.
"Do you know where she is?" continued Jewel, with wild impatience.
"No, I do not, I'm sure," said the only half-awakened woman. Then she
started and muttered, "Oh, I forgot, she came in here soon after you
went away. She was dressed for going out, and she gave me this letter
to hand to you as soon as you returned," placing a sealed envelope in
Jewel's eagerly outstretched palm.
Jewel was terribly afraid of the maid who held her awful secret in
possession. She ran upstairs with a wildly throbbing heart, wondering
what her absence and the letter combined could mean.
But she would soon know; for her nervous fingers eagerly tore the
end of the envelope across, and her blazing eyes soon devoured the
contents, which stated, in an odd _mélange_ of French and English,
that the writer feared to remain any longer in her employ, as she did
not consider her life secure while in the power of a lady whose deadly
secret she held. She had been joking about the three hundred dollars
per month wages, as no sum could have been large enough to tempt her to
stay. She had made arrangements to enter the service of a young English
lady, and would be gone before Miss Fielding's return. Lastly, she
would ease Miss Fielding's conscience by telling her that the poor girl
she had flung into the cellar was not dead--only stunned--and that she,
Marie, had resuscitated her and helped her away. If Miss Fielding would
take the trouble to look in the cellar, she would see for herself.
Lastly, Miss Fielding need not be afraid that Marie would betray her
sin to the world, as she had faithfully promised the golden-haired lady
that she would keep the secret.
Marie did not add that a bountiful golden bribe had bought her silence;
but Jewel readily guessed it, knowing the French girl's cupidity. She
tore the letter into a hundred fragments after she had impressed its
contents on her furious brain, and for a few moments her wrath was
something fearful--so near akin to madness that it recalled to her
mind the terrible spells of her mother in those first days after she
had discovered her rival's child to be blue-eyed Flower, whom she had
always loved best in her secret heart, because of the two girls, she
resembled her father most--the man whose memory Mrs. Fielding had
alternately loved and hated.