THE ENEMIES' PLANS
It has been shown that Arnault believed the decisive period to have
come that would see the success or failure of his "operation" in
the Catskills. Keen, penetrating, he had comprehended the situation
clearly. He knew that Stella wished to accept Graydon, and was held in
check by financial considerations only. He had seen her manner during
the preceding moonlight evening, and with intense anger had observed
from a neighboring grove the episode in the summer-house. The twig had
not casually parted under his step, but had been snapped between his
fingers. Stella's quick alarm and flight had revealed the continuance
of his hold upon her fears, if not her heart. From that moment he
dismissed all indecision. In bitterness he realized that his prolonged
stay in the mountains had not advanced his interests. He had hoped
to win the girl by devotion, keeping financial pressure in the
background; she had been only suave, agreeable, and elusive. He had
told her that he expected her decision by Saturday evening; she had
merely bowed in a non-committal way. Meanwhile it was evident that if
the Muirs kept up, apparently retaining the power to pass unscathed to
better times, she would prolong her hesitancy, and in the end accept
Graydon. He determined, therefore, to see her first, then her father,
and to call in his loan immediately.
While Graydon and Madge were returning next morning from the lonely
farmhouse Arnault was breakfasting at the hotel. He appeared in
excellent spirits. Miss Wildmere's alert observation could not detect
from his manner his knowledge of the fact that she had been on the
point of yielding to Graydon the evening before. He was full of
gallant courtesy toward her, and every glance and word expressed
admiration. This was always the breath of life to her, and while
it had ceased to give positive pleasure, its absence was like
uncomfortable weather.
After the meal was over he led her to the same summer-house in which
Graydon had almost spoken words endowed with a lover's warmth and
eagerness.
"Stella," he said, "I shall go to town on the ten-o'clock train."
"I supposed you had concluded to remain all the week," she replied.
"No; very important interests call me to the city, much to my regret.
You only bowed when I requested that I should receive a final answer
before the close of this week. I shall return Saturday. Will you end
my suspense within this time?"
She was silent.
"Will you make me another promise, then? Will you remain free this
week? If you will not bind yourself to me, will you promise that
no one else shall have a claim upon you until the time specified
expires?"
After some hesitation she said, "Yes, I will promise that."
"Please do so, and you will not regret it," was his quiet response.
"I am not so eager to be bound that I cannot promise so much."
"Very well then, I am content for the present;" and he changed the
subject.
They soon returned to the piazza, and Arnault employed his utmost
effort to be agreeable during the brief time remaining.
Earlier in the week he had written Mr. Wildmere a letter, in
consequence of which the momentous telegram had restrained the
daughter at the critical moment already mentioned.
When Madge came down to a late dinner she saw that Arnault had
disappeared from the Wildmere table, and that the belle was already
a victim of _ennui_ in the absence of both gentlemen. During the
afternoon Mrs. Muir was eager to gossip a little over the aspect of
affairs, but soon found that Madge would do scarcely more than listen.
"I don't understand that Miss Wildmere at all," said the elder
sister; "late last evening she went to yonder summer-house, hanging on
Graydon's arm as if they were engaged or married, and now he's gone to
be absent several days. This morning she was there again with Arnault,
and he wasn't talking about the weather, either. Now he's gone also.
Before Graydon went she had another long interview with him while you
were asleep. Good gracious! what is she aiming at? Young men were not
so patient in my day or in our village; and quiet as Henry appears,
he wouldn't play second string to a bow as Graydon does. When Miss
Wildmere first came I thought it was about settled, and I tried to be
polite to one whom I thought we should soon have to receive. Now it's
a sort of neck-and-neck race between the two men. If Graydon wins, how
shall you treat Miss Wildmere?"
"Politely for Graydon's sake, of course."
"Whose chances are best?"
"Graydon's."
"Do you think she loves him?"
"Yes, as far as she can love any one.'
"Why, Madge, what do you mean?"
"She could not love as we should; she doesn't know what the word
means. If she did she wouldn't hesitate."
"You think Henry's opinion of her is correct, then?"
"I think he's right usually. Miss Wildmere is devoted to one
being--herself."
"Why, Madge, it would be dreadful to have Graydon marry such a girl!"
"Graydon is not Harry Muir. He attained his majority some years
since."
"He certainly is old enough to show more spirit. Well, I don't
understand her tactics, but such belles, I suppose, are a law unto
themselves."
"Don't let us gossip about her any more. If Graydon becomes engaged
there is only one thing for us to do. Miss Wildmere has made herself
disagreeable to me in many little nameless ways, and we never could be
friends, but I shall not give Graydon cause for just complaint. If he
asks me to see her with his eyes, I shall laugh at him and decline."
"They shall never live with us," said Mrs. Muir, emphatically. "I know
I'm not a brilliant and accomplished woman, but I have always made
home a place of rest and comfort for Henry, and I intend it always
shall be just such a refuge. He is nervous and uncomfortable whenever
that girl comes near him. Some people can't get on together at all.
I am so glad that he likes you! He says you are one that a man could
depend upon in all sorts of weather."
"We'll see; but I like Santa Barbara weather, which is usually
serene."
"Oh, Madge, you'll not go there again?"
"Yes, I shall probably make it my home. I should never keep my health
in the East, and I should dread a winter in New York more than I can
tell you."
"Well," said Mrs. Muir, discontentedly, "I suppose you will have your
own way in everything hereafter; but I think you might at least try to
spend a winter with us."
"If there were cause I would, Mary, but you are happy in your home,
and I am not greatly needed. In my Western home I feel I can get the
most out of life, just as you are getting the most out of yours. I
should suffer from my old troubles in New York." This statement was
true enough to both ladies, although a very prosaic impression was
conveyed to Mrs. Muir's mind.
To Madge, Graydon's absence contained a strong element of hope. He
would not have gone away if all had been settled between him and Miss
Wildmere, and, as Mary had said, there appeared stronger evidence of
uncertainty now than at first. Graydon had seen Miss Wildmere, and she
evidently had not finally dismissed Arnault.
Madge indulged in no idle brooding, however, and by activity every
hour in the day, passed the time bravely. One of her boy admirers had
a horse, and became her escort on long excursions; and with Mrs. Muir
she went to see Tilly Wendall again on Friday morning. The poor girl
was very weak indeed, and could do little more than smile her welcome.
Madge promised to spend Sunday night with her. She would have come
before, but Graydon had told her that he might return Friday evening,
and as a storm was threatening she thought it probable that he would
hasten back to avoid it. She believed that there was still hope for
her, and determined that she should never have cause in the future to
reproach herself with lost opportunities. There was no imperative call
of duty to her sick friend, for Mrs. Wendall said that two or three
neighbors had lately offered their services.
Mrs. Muir was gladdened on her return to the hotel by a telegram from
her husband, saying that he would arrive on the late train and spend
Saturday with her. She and Madge sat down to dinner in a cheerful
mood, which evidently was not shared by Miss Wildmere.
That brilliant young woman, although she made herself the centre of
all things as far as possible, was a victim of poverty when thrown
upon her own resources. Madge detected her in suppressed yawns, and
had noted that she had apparently done little else than read novels
since parting with the two men who were metaphorically at her feet.
Since the telegram she had not received a word from her father or any
one, and was inwardly chafing at the dead calm that had followed her
exciting experiences. She did not misinterpret the deceptive peace,
however, and knew that on the morrow she must decide what even she
regarded as the most momentous question of life. Persons under the
dominion of pure selfishness escape many perplexities, however, and
she was prone to take short cuts to desired ends. Ready to practice
deceit herself, she became more strongly impressed that her father
and Arnault were misleading her. Therefore she impatiently awaited the
former's appearance, that she might tax him with duplicity. Unless he
had something stronger than vague surmises to offer, she intended on
the morrow to promise Graydon Muir to be his wife.
As has been seen, Wildmere had too much conscience to try to sell his
daughter outright, but since she was in a mood for a bargain he had
insured the possibility of one remarkably good in his estimation, and
was now on his way with very definite offers and statements indeed.
In the late afternoon Madge was speaking about a book to an
acquaintance who said, "Go up to my room and get it."
Madge was not sure whether she cared to read the book or not, and sat
down to examine it. Suddenly she heard distinctly the words, "I don't
believe Henry Muir is in danger of failure. Graydon scouted the idea.
You and Arnault are seeking to mislead me."
Madge then remembered that the next room was occupied by Miss
Wildmere, and her first impulse was to make a noise, that the
proximity of some one might be known, but like a flash came the
thought, "Chance may have put me in the way of getting information of
vital importance to Henry;" and the next sentence spoken assured her
that this was true, for she heard a voice which she recognized as Mr.
Wildmere's say:
"In all human probability Muir will be compelled to suspend to-morrow.
Mr. Arnault has placed in his hands a call loan. You know what that
is. Arnault is so alarmed about Muir's condition that he will demand
the money in the morning, and I am perfectly satisfied that Muir can't
raise it. You know enough about business to be aware of what will
happen if he cannot. Such is the market now that if Muir goes down
he will be cleaned out utterly, and Graydon will have to begin at the
bottom like any other young man without resources. Of course, Arnault
cannot afford to lose the money, and must act like any other business
man.
"But he did not send me here to tell you this. As his broker I know
about it, and tell you of my own accord. This is what he did authorize
me to say to you. Had not business interests, which have already
suffered from his devotion to you, prevented, he would be here now
to make the offer in person. He says that he will settle upon you one
hundred thousand dollars in your own right the day you marry him, and
also give you an elegant home in the city. Now what is your answer?"
"When Henry Muir fails I'll believe all this," was the sullen reply.
"Be careful, Stella. Devoted as Arnault is he is not a man to be
trifled with. He has made you a munificent offer, but if you show this
kind of spirit he is just the one to withdraw at once and forever.
If you love Graydon Muir well enough to share his poverty, I have
not another word to say, although I shall be homeless myself in
consequence."
"Nonsense, papa! You have been on the eve of ruin more times than I
can remember. Graydon assured me that he was abundantly able to take
care of me, and that his brother was in no danger. I can have all the
elegance I want and still follow my own inclination. If Henry Muir
fails, of course that ends the matter; and if he is to fail to-morrow
it will be time enough to give Mr. Arnault my answer to-morrow night,
as he asked that I would. If I give him a favorable one I prefer to do
it in person, for I don't wish to appear mercenary. You, I hope, have
the sense to keep this phase out of view."
"Oh, certainly. Such high-minded people as we are should not be
misjudged," was the bitter reply.
"One has to take the world as it is, and one soon learns that all are
looking after their own interests," was the cynical reply.
"A beautiful sentiment for one so young! Well, I must return to the
city to-night, and I cannot take your acceptance of Mr. Arnault's
offer?"
"No. I will give my answer in person to-morrow night. I can either
accede in a way that will please him, or decline in a manner that
will keep his friendship. I suppose you believe what you say about
Mr. Muir, but I am sure you are mistaken, and I have set my heart on
marrying Graydon."
"Your heart?" satirically.
She made no answer.
"You are taking no slight risk," he resumed, after a moment.
"Either Arnault is misleading you, or Graydon is deceiving me, and I
would believe him in preference to Arnault any day. I won't be duped."
"But I tell you, Stella, that under the circumstances Graydon's
ignorance is not at all strange. He has been absent; he is not in
the firm; and what is swamping Muir is an investment outside of his
regular business."
"You yourself said within a month that if Henry Muir went through this
business crisis he would represent one of the strongest and wealthiest
houses in the country. If he is in the danger you assert, the fact
will soon be manifested. Mr. Arnault has requested my answer to-morrow
night. I have not promised to give it; I have only promised him not to
accept Graydon in the meantime."
"The fact that Mr. Arnault is helping me so greatly counts for
nothing, I suppose."
"Oh, yes; I appreciate it very much, but not enough to marry him
unless I must. I am literally following your advice--to choose between
these two men. I shall convey to Mr. Arnault the impression that I
am deeply moved by the generosity of his offer. I am. Girls don't
get such offers every day. You can show him that the very fact of my
hesitation proves that I am not mercenary; or I can, when I see him.
At the same time I am not at all satisfied that Graydon Muir's offer
is not a better one, and it is certainly more to my mind--if you
don't like the word heart. This fact, however, may as well not be
mentioned."
After some moments' hesitation he said, slowly: "Very well, then. You
are my daughter, although a strange one, and I shall do as well for
you as I can."
"Yes, please. I parted with sentiment long ago, but I can do well by
those who do well by me. I shall soon be off your hands, and then you
won't have me to worry about."
He made no response, and Madge heard his step pass into his wife's
room. A moment later Miss Wildmere also departed, and her voice was
soon heard on the piazza. The conversation had been carried on in a
comparatively low tone, and some words had been lost, but those heard
made the sense given above. Circumstances had favored Madge. The
open window at which she was sitting was near the next window in Miss
Wildmere's room, and within two or three feet there was the customary
thin-panelled door which enables the proprietor to throw rooms
together, as required, for the accommodation of families. Therefore,
without moving or volition on her part information vital to her
relatives had been brought to her knowledge. She was perfectly
overwhelmed at first, and sat as if stunned, her cheeks scarlet with
shame for the act of listening, even while she felt that for the sake
of the innocent and unsuspecting, to whom she owed loyalty and love,
it was right. Soon, however, came the impulse to seek the refuge of
her own room and think of what must be done. She stepped lightly to
the outer door; there was no sound in the corridor, and with all the
composure she could assume she passed quietly out and gained her own
apartment unobserved.