BETROTHED.
The promise was readily given, for with Keith's dark eyes gazing into
her own with that eager, earnest gaze, Beatrix could not have refused,
even if she had so desired. And she longed to trust this handsome young
lover, who had won her girlish heart completely. What one earnestly
wishes to do is usually accomplished, when there is no reason why the
obstacles should not be vanquished; and Beatrix was only too glad to
place confidence in Keith. She sank into the seat at his side and laid
her hand upon his arm.
"Keith,"--her voice low and eager--"you would not deceive me, would
you? Remember, I am at your mercy, and I am compelled to believe in
you. I must trust you, Keith; I could not live without you now--I could
not!"
His eyes lighted up with a rapturous light; he stooped and kissed her
white brow.
"Beatrix, darling," he was beginning; but just then the door opened and
Serena sailed into the room.
"Well, I must say, Miss Beatrix Dane," she began, taking possession of
Keith with an air of proprietorship, "you are a bold creature! I intend
to speak to Mr. Dane in regard to your shameless conduct, here all
alone with Mr. Kenyon. Go up to your own room and stay there, or I will
go to Mr. Dane at once, and he will see that you keep in future your
proper place in this house."
Beatrix's eyes blazed; her slight form trembled; she stood trembling,
hesitating. But Keith whispered softly:
"Go, dear; I have something to say to this woman. I will explain all
when I see you again. Beatrix, you will trust me? You have promised to
do so."
"I will."
She left the room with hasty steps. As soon as the drawing-room door
had closed behind her, Keith turned to Serena.
"I am glad that you have come back to this room," he began, slowly. "I
have something to say to you. Serena, I wrote you a letter which I am
very sorry to find you did not receive. In that letter I told you--"
"Oh, Keith! Keith! do not break my heart with unkindness and cruelty
now!" she cried, clasping his hand in both her bony ones. "I suppose in
your letter you scolded me for some deficiency. I ask you to forgive me
for whatever I may have done that has offended or in any way annoyed
you. I beg your pardon--I beg your pardon, and I ask you to have pity
and say no more. I acknowledge that I was rude to that girl Beatrix
Dane; but, oh, Keith! remember that I have had a hard time with her,
and much to bear on her account. She left our humble home after my
mother had cared for her and acted a mother's part to her for nearly
seventeen long years. She left us with the intention of marrying--"
"Hush! That is false--false, Serena, and you know it!" stormed Keith,
angrily, losing command of his temper at last. "This poor girl has
been wronged. I wonder you dare tell me such tales in regard to her,
Serena!"
Serena shook her head slowly, mournfully.
"Truly, you are 'in the snare of the fowler'," she quoted, sagely.
"That wicked girl has woven her net about you, and 'you are forever
lost'."
"Nonsense!" he cried, angrily. "Serena, I thought you possessed more
common sense. Forgive me--I am very rude; but you are driving me wild
with your insinuations in regard to Beatrix. However, I wish to speak
of something else; I wish to say, Serena, that I have written you in
regard to our engagement--the foolish, ill-advised engagement existing
between you and me. It has been a mistake from the start, Serena, a
great and unwise mistake; we must rectify it now."
"How? Oh, Keith! Keith! don't you care for me at all?"
"I told you, when I asked you to be my wife, that I had no love for
you, and yet you were willing to accept me without love. Pardon me,
Serena, but when a woman accepts an offer of marriage from a man who
openly acknowledges that he does not love her, she must be prepared to
accept all the consequences of her own rash and ill-advised act--all
the shame, the grief, and humiliation. Serena, I have never loved
you--I never shall; and I love another woman with all my heart, and
soul, and strength! It is my desire that this foolish engagement be
broken off at once--at once. You will thank me some day that I had the
courage to put an end to it before it was too late."
Silence, awful silence, settled down upon the room. You could hear
distinctly the beating of Serena Lynne's heart, as she sat staring
straight before her into space with a numbed, awful look upon her face
which might have touched a heart of stone. Keith felt his own heart
grow sore with sorrow for her suffering, but he felt that he was doing
right, like the surgeon who pities and sympathizes inwardly with the
sufferer before him, yet must not hesitate to plunge the sharp, keen
knife into the wound, or the sufferer will die. He felt that he must
end all this unpleasant complication with Serena before another day had
passed, or he could not tell into what trouble his own mad act might
lead him.
"I have done wrong," he muttered to himself, "in asking her to marry
me. I must have been mad--mad! But it is not too late to rectify the
mistake, and I must end this affair at once and forever."
But still Serena sat like a statue and did not speak or move. Keith
began to feel uneasy.
"Serena," he said, gently, "I do not wish to wound you, but there must
be a final understanding between us now."
"There shall be," she cried, angrily, starting up. "I consider the
engagement at an end. I release you! Now, go and marry Beatrix Dane;
but my opinion is, that you will rue the day that you were guilty of
such mad folly! Good-bye, Keith Kenyon, may you be as happy as you
deserve!"
But as she left the room, her face working convulsively, her breath
coming in broken gasps, she was whispering softly to herself:
"He shall never marry her--never! I swear that, come what may, Keith
Kenyon shall be mine! It is the one object of my life. I shall not
give it up without a struggle!"
But slowly and surely the hour was coming when Serena Lynne would be
forced to say that all hope was vain.
That very day Keith made up his mind to take a decisive step. He would
make Beatrix his wife at once--privately--and then no matter what might
happen, she would have him to defend and protect her. And nothing
should ever part them, nothing could ever come between them save death.
The more he thought of it the more determined did he grow. At last he
rose and made his way slowly out into the grounds, lying fair and green
in the wintry sunshine as though it were spring. Still weak, Keith felt
the balmy air revive him and strengthen him, and found that after a
little he was able to walk quite well.
Down in a pretty honeysuckle bower he found Beatrix sitting on a rustic
seat, pale and silent. She looked as if she had been crying.
"Beatrix!"
The sound of his voice made an electric thrill run over her. She
started to her feet.
"Is it really you--out at last?" she cried. "Oh, Keith! I am so glad!"
He took her hands in his and drew her head down so that he could look
into her eyes.
"Sweetheart," he whispered, tenderly, "I want you to be my wife at
once--without any delay. Listen. There is nothing between Serena Lynne
and me--absolutely nothing--believe me, darling. Now this is my plan: I
will send today and procure the license; tomorrow we will drive in the
carriage to a clergyman's house--the drive will do me good--and you
shall come back my little wife. Then no one can part us--never, while
we live. Will you consent, Beatrix?"
The beautiful dark eyes wavered from before his eager, passionate gaze;
she trembled like a leaf.
"Say yes, Beatrix. There is no one to object. We have no one to
consult. Remember, Uncle Bernard wished us to marry. Say yes, dear, and
make me perfectly happy. No one ever loved a woman as I love you, my
beautiful brown-eyed darling!"
And so the answer was given--that one little word of three letters
which was large enough to cover a whole life-time of future woe. The
secret marriage was arranged to take place on the following day. Keith
felt a strange dislike to revealing the truth to old Bernard Dane,
after what the old man had said concerning a marriage with Beatrix--the
very marriage which he had himself first planned. Keith felt certain
that Bernard Dane would now bitterly oppose the marriage, and Keith
determined that he would not give the old man a chance to do so. So the
fatal plot was formed, the secret marriage arranged, and they parted
that night with the understanding that on the morrow Beatrix would
become Keith Kenyon's wife.
At that very moment, up in her own room, Serena Lynne was hurriedly
turning over the contents of her trunk, her face pale as death, her
eyes full of hatred. All at once she snatched up from the depths of the
trunk a small tin box.
"Ah, Miss Beatrix Dane!" she hissed, revengefully, "if I am not
mistaken, I have you in my power at last!"