Frightened at the thought of going mad, Jewel ceased her wild raving,
and tried to look her fate fairly in the face.
One of the first conclusions to which her mind leaped was that Azalia
Brooke was no other than her half-sister, Flower. She had come to see
her in disguise that night, pleading poverty, when in reality she
had been the heiress of Lord Ivon and the toast of the city. Ah, and
Jewel's hand clutched at the empty air in impotent passion, how she
regretted that her work had failed her that afternoon, and that Marie
had rescued her victim from death! It was well indeed for cunning Marie
that she was out of reach of Miss Fielding's vengeance.
But, Jewel asked herself, wonderingly, why had not Flower claimed her
husband? She had certainly recognized him, and she knew that it was his
father's death she had read in the paper that terrible night. Why then
had Flower kept the secret of her identity, and even betrothed herself
to another?
Jewel's mind could furnish but one solution to that strange problem.
Flower had been adopted in some mysterious manner by the old nobleman
and his wife, and was ambitious of shining in the world. She doubted
whether she had ever been really Laurie's wife, and did not wish
for him to recognize her, fearing that it would ruin her brilliant
prospects in life. She intended to let Laurie Meredith believe her
dead, while in reality she would be alive, the wife of an earl, one of
the most beautiful countesses in England.
Jewel choked with anger at the thought of the despised Flower attaining
such lofty heights, but even that was better than to reveal herself to
Laurie Meredith.
"Yes, far better, for I would rather have him than a king!" she
thought, that stormy love of hers always rising superior to every
other ambition. She decided that she would go to Washington, seek an
interview with Flower, and tell her that she recognized her, but would
keep her secret if she would return at once to England and marry Lord
Clive. If she refused, and the beautiful face grew dark with passion
at the thought, Jewel told herself, in a vindictive whisper, that her
rival must be removed at all hazards from her path.
Her plans thus laid, she called in the house-maid to assist in packing
her trunks, picturing to herself the alarm of her lover when he should
find that she had followed him to Washington.
"I will make him understand, once for all, that I am not to be trifled
with by any one," she told herself, angrily, and with a bitter wonder
at her failure to win Laurie Meredith's heart.
"And I so beautiful, so wondrously beautiful," she thought, pausing
a moment to gaze at her reflection in the glass--at her flashing
dark eyes, her red lips and cheeks, her braided coronal of purplish
jet-black hair.
"I am beautiful enough to be a queen, yet I can not win the heart of
the only man I ever cared for," she thought, with a sort of agony at
her failure.
But every pang she suffered only made her more determined to triumph in
the end.
"Only let me get Flower out of the way, and I may win him yet. I was
near to it when she came, and surely I can recover my lost ground some
day," she said.
She was driven in her carriage to Mrs. Meredith's, and found them
waiting, although they hoped that she would change her mind even at the
last moment.
But no, Jewel took her seat in the train as grim and implacable as fate
itself, and determined as ever to make all else on earth yield to her
imperious will and desire.
The Merediths, thoroughly disgusted at her jealous freak, sat with her;
but there was very little said by any one. But Jewel scarcely noticed
the constraint and silence of Laurie's mother and sisters. She was
completely wrapped up in her own dark thoughts, and remained so until
they reached the end of their long journey.