UNDER A CLOUD.
Eva would never forget the sunny May day when her lover returned to
Weston. Everything was so green and lovely on the wide grounds, the sky
was so bright and blue, the flowers so sweet, and the pretty feathered
songsters in the trees were fairly splitting their very throats with
joyful songs of love that found a happy echo in her heart.
When Doctor Bertrand came into Eva’s ward that afternoon, she just
happened to mention that Doctor Rupert had returned, and straightway
the whole world was transformed, glorified, to Eva. Her eager heart
leaped with joyful emotion and she turned her face quickly aside that
no one might see the lovely crimson that overspread it at mention of
his name.
Doctor Bertrand just smiled to herself and passed on without a word to
betray that her kind eyes had read the secret of two fond hearts. She
thought it was a pretty love story that was going to end happily in a
wedding, as all sweet love stories mostly ended.
And she did not dream of the terrible barrier between those two
yearning hearts--the barrier of a kinsman’s blood!
For the carping world said that Doctor Ludington had murdered Terry
Groves--that his hands were red with his foeman’s blood. No one excused
him because it had really been an accident. They chose to put the worst
construction on the tragedy.
So that if the young doctor had returned to them from the dead, the
side of the clan that sympathized with the Groves family would have
been ready to howl execrations upon his head.
Of the keen, bitter pain in his heart at his fate, at the isolation
from home and parents, who could tell? He bore it in silence for the
sake of the one sweet drop in the bitter cup.
In renouncing home and kindred love, in giving up his birthright and
his name, there was one compensation that would pay for all--he would
be free to woo and win little Eva.
Once he had put the past behind him there was no looking backward, no
futile regret for what was lost. Of all that the wide world could have
offered him he would have chosen bonnie, dark-eyed Eva as the best of
all.
And fate was going to grant him his heart’s desire.
He was not conceited, but he had read aright the blushing cheek, the
flashing eyes, the trembling tones. Her young heart had answered to his
own.
But for Doctor St. Clair’s malicious interference he would have told
her his love that day beneath the trees, when he had read her heart by
the light of his own.
Wearily the day passed in the round of mutual duties that held them
apart until evening, when they met at last in the ballroom where the
weekly dance for the patients was given.
“Will you give me a dance?” the dear voice said suddenly in her ear, as
she was watching with casual amusement the gyrations of an insane woman
whirling around with a hospital employee, the manager of the ice plant.
She started with joy, and looked up at him in a little tremor.
“You startled me,” she said, putting out her little hand to meet his,
and trembling at his warm, strong clasp.
“Did you not know I had come, little Eva?”
“Oh, yes; but I did not know you were in the ballroom.”
“I came in to look for you. My eyes were aching for the sight of you.
Will you dance with me? Or would you prefer to take a stroll outdoors?
There is a lovely moon”--eagerly.
“I prefer outdoors,” she answered, letting her eyes droop shyly before
his ardent, questioning glance.
He was leading her out when Doctor St. Clair hurried after them.
“Miss Somerville, will you not give me one dance?”
She hesitated, recoiling from him in secret repugnance, and he added
hastily:
“It is obligatory, you know, on the attendants to take part in the
dancing for the pleasure of the patients.”
“Very well; I will dance when I come back. I am going out now for a
breath of fresh air. Excuse me,” and she brushed hastily past him and
disappeared with her lover by her side.
The doctor stood looking after them with an ominous frown.
“How I hate that upstart fellow! I wish I could find out something bad
enough about him to warrant his dismissal from the hospital. Wonder
if I could not do a little detective work to that end. The governor
ought to know all about him. He recommended him to the board. What if
I take a run down to Charleston and interview his excellency on Doctor
Rupert’s antecedents,” he was musing to himself, when a white hand
clasped his arm and a gay voice exclaimed:
“Come, doctor dear, and try that new waltz with me! It’s exquisite.
No use frowning after Rupert. He has cut you out with the little
Somerville beauty, that’s clear.”
“Who cares?” he replied curtly, encircling her waist closely with his
arm and whirling her into the ring of merry waltzers, while his angry
thoughts followed the handsome young pair who had gone out into the
moonlighted grounds to enjoy each other’s society while he was left to
be bored by sprightly Miss Blue, of whom he was weary now, though he
could not shake her off.
Eager to escape from the uncongenial air and company of the ballroom,
the lovers wandered out into the beautiful grounds beneath the light
of the full May moon shining in the blue and starry sky, a night so
sweet and balmy it seemed made for love and lovers.
The young doctor had drawn Eva’s small hand within his arm, and as they
slowly paced the broad, secluded walk, he pressed her arm close to his
heart, murmuring:
“You received my letter, little Eva?”
“What letter?”
“The one I wrote from Parkersburg the day after I went away.”
“Then you wrote to me? I did not receive it,” she answered, quickly
remembering how she had secretly longed for a letter, and felt
disappointed because she had failed to receive it.
“That is very strange. I wrote you a long letter and addressed it to
the hospital, Drawer H, as is usual. It must have miscarried, or--been
intercepted,” exclaimed Doctor Rupert, wondering if he had a rival for
Eva’s affection in the place, not dreaming of the superintendent’s
admiration for the lovely girl.
“I received the bonbons only--oh, how sorry I am that I missed the
letter! Now, Doctor Rupert, you must begin and tell me every word that
was in it,” cried Eva radiantly, her eyes beaming with pleasure as she
lifted them innocently to his handsome face.
Doctor Rupert smiled tenderly down into the eager face, and answered
softly:
“I shall be very glad to tell you in a few words the subject of my
long letter. Much has been written on that subject, and the same story
has been told by many lips and eyes, but three words will comprise it
all--I love you.”
Little Eva started tremulously, but her dark eyes clung to his face
without faltering as he paused and continued passionately:
“Yes, I love you, Eva, with all the strength and passion of my honest
manhood, and I pledge you my lifelong devotion if you will be my wife.
Is my love returned?”
The little golden head was very close to his breast while he uttered
the words, and the next moment it drooped against him and nestled there
with a confidence sweeter than all words.
His arms went quickly round the yielding form and he bent his lips to
hers, sealing their betrothal with a caress that recreated the whole
world for them with its rapturous joy.
Then he led his darling to the same seat they had occupied the day
his declaration of love had been twice interrupted, and, sitting down
together, with arms about each other, they fell into tender converse,
little recking how fast the hours flew, or that the ball was over,
until they saw the few people of the town who always attended to look
on going home through the moonlighted grounds.
“Heavens! we have been here over two hours, but it does not seem more
than five minutes!” he exclaimed, looking at his watch.
“I must go in at once. It is almost midnight,” Eva cried, in a little
alarm, and rising to fly from him, but he walked by her side, saying:
“I am going back with you. If there is any fault to be found, we will
say that we are engaged and will be married soon.”
“Oh,” she cried, in shy alarm, for they had not set the day yet.
“Yes, we must be married soon,” he repeated tenderly. “My little Eva
must not toil her life out here. She must have some one to love and
care for her in a dear little home of her own. Now, good night, my
little darling. You must dream of me, as I shall of you,” kissing her
fondly in the shadows before they parted outside the door.
He remained outside to smoke a cigar and revel in his happiness, while
Eva hurried along the dim corridor to her own little room.
Doctor St. Clair’s office door opened and he intercepted her, saying in
a low, imperative tone:
“I have been waiting for you. Come in; I must speak to you a moment.
You need not hesitate. There is no harm coming in my office. Many of
the young ladies come in here to make their reports.”
“I am very sleepy. Will you please wait till to-morrow?” she faltered
shrinkingly.
“I cannot wait. Come,” he said so sternly that Eva followed him like a
frightened child over the threshold.
“Sit down,” pushing forward an easy-chair.
“I--I don’t want to sit down, please,” she answered, just leaning for
support against the back of the chair, and continuing nervously:
“If you are going to discharge me, please say so at once, doctor,
without scolding me, and let me go.”
“Why should I scold you?” smiling.
“For shirking my duty--dancing with the patients. But I really forgot
all about it. I was talking, and--time slipped away so fast.”
“You must have found Doctor Rupert very entertaining to remain out with
him until so unseemly an hour,” grimly.
“I--I did not know it was getting so late! I am very sorry,” Eva
murmured, with a kindling blush.
“Well, I shall not discharge you this time, nor scold you, though you
have acted very imprudently, staying out so late with a young man whose
character is almost wholly unknown to you. You must not let it occur
again.”
“Oh, no, sir,” she answered meekly, edging toward the door, but he said
quickly:
“One minute more. I would have discharged any other attendant for such
an offense, but I am interested in you, as I have told you before. In
fact, I have been planning for several days a pleasure trip for you.”
Eva caught her breath with a gasp of surprise. Her employer continued
with an ingratiating smile:
“We have to send an attendant for an insane girl at Clarksburg. It
would be a pleasant trip--all your expenses paid. Would you like to go?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I am not used to travel. I should be afraid!” Eva
cried out quickly, deprecatingly.
“You dear little coward!” he cried gayly. “But I was about to explain
that you need not go alone. I am going to Washington to-morrow and
would bear you company on the trip. In fact, so well do I like you,
little Eva, that I will take you to Washington with me for a day or so
and show you all the sights and give you a good time generally. Then
you could go and get the patient from Clarksburg and come back here,
and no one be the wiser of your jolly little escapade. What do you say
to my clever plan, my pretty little dear?”
Her great eyes blazed on him as he tried to approach her, continuing:
“I know that some of the other girls would give anything for such a
trip with me, but I asked you first because I love you best--ay, better
than any one else on earth! My little darling, you need not hesitate.
You would never be found out.”
“How dare you make your vile proposition to me?” she found voice to
utter scathingly.
“Tut, tut; you need not be so prudish, little Eva. I know all about
your shady past--how your cousin killed a man that he found in your
room at midnight. Do you pretend to have reformed your morals now?”
How she hated the leering smile, the sneering tone; how she longed to
strike him in his face, to throw open the door and denounce him to
every one.
Yet her horror of a scene and of another scandal associated with her
pure name made her hesitate and answer brokenly:
“I am under a cloud, Doctor St. Clair, but I am innocent. Doctor
Ludington came to my room that night in a professional capacity alone,
and I must beg you not to regard me as a sinner, but as a martyr.”
His low, incredulous laugh grated harshly on her ears, and stung her
into adding:
“I am loath to betray you and make a scandal of your vile propositions
to a supposedly defenseless girl, but I had better say that the next
insult from you will be reported to my future husband.”
“You are to marry!” he exclaimed, in astonishment, mixed with grief and
chagrin.
With flashing eyes and her head thrown back in pride, Eva answered:
“I am betrothed to Doctor Rupert, and we are to be married soon.”
The man’s face grew deeply livid with rage and disappointment. He
fairly struggled to hold himself in check, and Eva started quickly
toward the door, eager to escape.
At that he started forward, breathing hoarsely and muttering vengefully:
“Consider yourself discharged from the hospital, Miss Somerville, on
account of being out so late with a young man to-night.”
She bowed coldly without replying, and darted from the room, almost
falling over Ada Winton in her headlong flight.
“Where away so fast, my dear, that you bolt out of the doctor’s office
like a shot fired from a cannon?” cried that young lady, catching her
around the waist.
“Oh, Ada, come to my room and I will tell you all!” Eva sobbed in
hysterical excitement.
“The villain! To think of insulting you again, after your first decided
repulse!” exclaimed the young lady indignantly, when she had heard the
piteous story, and she added warmly:
“Do not worry yourself, dear, because you are discharged. I have an
aunt living in Weston who will receive you as a guest until you are
married to your handsome doctor.”
“But, oh, Ada, I have no money for anything--neither to pay my board
nor to buy a wedding gown,” sobbed the hapless girl.
“Aunt Susan will not charge you any board, my little dear, and I will
lend you my best white gown for your wedding.”