"YOU WILL BE TRUE THOUGH THE OCEAN DIVIDES US."
About four o'clock of that same day Violet entered the private parlor of
her friend, Nellie Bailey, her face glowing, her eyes gleaming with
excitement.
"Oh, you dear child!" cried that young lady, leaping to her feet and
springing forward to meet her visitor, "you have come to tell me that
you are going to Europe with me."
"I have come to stay all night with you if you will let me," Violet
replied, returning the eager caress with which Nellie had greeted her.
"If I will 'let' you! You know I shall be only too glad to have you. But
how happy you look! You surely have good news to tell me."
Violet flushed, and her eyes drooped for a moment.
"Yes, I believe I shall go to Europe with you," she answered, her face
dimpling with smiles, and Nellie immediately went into ecstasies over
the announcement.
"I am perfectly enchanted," she cried; "and will you remain the whole
year?"
"I do not know about that," Violet thoughtfully replied. "I have not set
any time for my return. I shall go for three months at any rate, and I
may conclude to remain longer."
"I wish you could come to Milan to study music with me," Nellie
remarked, wistfully.
"I imagine that Belle would not consent to that," Violet returned. "She
would be afraid that we two girls would get into mischief if left to
ourselves. I suppose I shall travel with Mrs. Hawley, but I will try to
pay you a visit now and then if I remain any length of time."
The girls found much to talk about in anticipation of their journey, and
the time passed quickly and pleasantly until the dinner hour, while
during the meal the family were all so agreeable and entertaining--for
Violet was a great favorite with them--that she forgot, for the time,
the unpleasantness of the morning and her clear, happy laugh rang out
with all her customary abandon.
She had not mentioned her misunderstanding with her sister, for her
pride rebelled against having it known that she was not entirely happy
in her home; and when, shortly after dinner, Mrs. Mencke called and
asked to see Violet alone, she excused the circumstance by remarking
that she supposed it was upon some matter of business.
Mrs. Mencke had been furious, upon her return home to find how she and
Sarah had both been outwitted, and she had come to Mrs. Bailey's
prepared, not to apologize, but to be very severe upon the offender for
her defiance of all authority.
But the sight of her happy face and sparkling eyes disarmed her, and she
passed over the affair much more lightly than Violet had dared to hope
she would.
The young girl frankly acknowledged the strategy she had employed, and
exonerated Sarah from all blame; but she also firmly declared that if
her sister would not promise to let her alone--if she persisted in the
persecution of the last few days, she would reveal to Mr. and Mrs.
Bailey all that had occurred, and implore their protection and
assistance in securing other guardians.
Mrs. Mencke had arrived at that point where she believed that
"discretion would be the better part of valor," for she realized that
her young sister's spirit was too strong for her, and that she would do
what she had threatened; therefore, she resolved not to antagonize her
further if she could avoid it.
"It was a shame, Belle, for you to lock me up like a naughty,
unreasonable child, and I will not endure such treatment," Violet
indignantly affirmed, in concluding the recital of her morning's
experience.
"Well, well, child, I did not know what else to do with you; but let it
pass, please. Perhaps it was a mistake, and we will let by-gones be
by-gones," Mrs. Mencke responded, in a conciliatory tone. "I am glad
that you have decided in favor of the European trip, and I want you to
go away feeling kindly toward me. Will you come home with me now?"
"Not to-night; I have promised Nellie that I would spend it with her;
but you may send for me early tomorrow, for I suppose we shall have to
be rather busy during the next three weeks."
"Very well; but, Vio, you will promise me that you will not try to----"
Mrs. Mencke began, anxiously, for she could not rid herself of the fear
that Violet would try to meet her lover clandestinely.
"Hush, Belle; I will promise you nothing," Violet interrupted,
spiritedly. "I am a woman now--I have my own rights, and there are some
things upon which you shall not trench. If there is to be peace between
us you must let me entirely alone on one subject."
Mrs. Mencke made no reply to this. She told herself that strategy was
the only course left open to her.
She joined the Bailey family for a little while for a social chat, after
which she took her leave, promising to send the carriage for Violet at
ten the next morning.
The ensuing three weeks passed rapidly, and without any further trouble
between the sisters to mar their intercourse.
Mrs. Mencke endeavored, by every means in her power, to keep Violet
under her own eye during this time, but once or twice the young girl
managed to evade her vigilance. Whether she met Wallace or not she had
no means of ascertaining, but she felt that she should be truly thankful
and relieved of a heavy burden when the ocean divided them.
The day of sailing drew nigh and the voyagers, accompanied by several
friends, repaired to New York, where they were to take a steamer
belonging to the White Star Line.
When they all went aboard the vessel, on the morning of the tenth, Mrs.
Mencke was both amazed and dismayed to see Wallace Richardson advance
and greet Violet with all the assurance of an accepted suitor; while the
young girl herself, though her face lighted up joyously as she caught
sight of him, did not seem in the least surprised to find him there.
The fact was, Wallace had told Violet that he had a call to go to New
York on business, and he would arrange to be there at the time that she
sailed.
If looks could have annihilated him, he would at once have vanished
forever from the sight of men; but as he met Mrs. Mencke's angry glance
he courteously lifted his hat and bowed, and then went on with his
conversation with Violet.
Of course it would not do to make a scene in such a conspicuous place,
and the enraged woman was obliged to curb her passion; but she thanked
the fates that Violet was going so far away, and she vowed that it would
be a long while before she returned.
She intended to keep the young couple under her eye until the steamer
started, but, in the confusion which everywhere prevailed, they managed
to slip out of sight before she was aware of it, and after that she
could not find them.
They were not far away, however, and their security lay in this very
fact. They had simply stepped between a couple of stacks of baggage for
a few last words to each other, while they became oblivious of
everything save the thought of their approaching separation.
"My darling, it is hard to let you go--harder than I thought it would
be, now that the time has arrived," Wallace said, as he took both her
hands in his and looked tenderly into her sorrowful face.
"I almost wish I could not go, after all," Violet faltered, as the hot
tears rushed into her eyes. "I will not--I will stay, even now, if you
will tell me I may," she concluded, resolutely.
"No, love; that would be unwise, and I know it is better that you should
go--better for you, better for me," he replied.
"But I shall come back in three months," Violet said, with an air of
decision. "I could not stay away from you longer than that."
"If you feel that you must, I will not oppose it, dear," the young man
returned, tenderly. "Still, if you can be contented to remain a year, I
believe it would be a good plan for you to do so. Meantime I will do my
utmost to attain a position which shall warrant me in claiming this dear
hand when you return."
"I shall write to you by every steamer, Wallace, and you will be sure to
answer as regularly," Violet pleaded.
"Indeed I shall, and I am promising myself a great deal of pleasure from
our correspondence--more, in fact, than I have yet known, for our
clandestine meetings have been very galling to me. I never like to do
anything that is not perfectly open and straightforward," Wallace said,
gravely.
"Neither do I," returned Violet; "but we were driven to it."
"True, and therefore I feel that it was justifiable. They, your
guardians, would have separated us if they could; but this faithful
little heart could not be won from its allegiance; and, my darling, I am
sure you will still be true to me, even though the ocean divides us."
Violet's fingers closed over his with a convulsive, almost a painful
clasp.
"Always; nothing--no one could ever tempt me from my faith to you,
Wallace," she huskily murmured. "Oh!" she cried, with a sudden start, as
a warning whistle blew, "does that mean that you must go?"
"Yes, within five minutes," he replied. "And now, my heart's queen, no
one can see us; therefore give me just one parting kiss, and that must
be our farewell, for I cannot take leave of you before others."
He bent and gathered her quickly in his arms, straining her to his
breast with a close, yearning clasp, and pressed his lips to hers in one
lingering caress.
"My love, my love, you will take the light from my world when you go,"
he murmured, fondly.
Then he released her, and led her forth from their hiding-place toward
where her friends were gathered.
"Why, Violet, we have been alarmed about you, and our friends feared
they would have to go without saying good-by to you," Mrs. Mencke
exclaimed, in a tone that plainly indicated her displeasure at her
sister's behavior.
But there was no time for reproaches. Everybody was bidding everybody
else a last farewell, and presently the cry, "All ashore!" sounded, and
there was a general stampede of all those who were not outward bound.
Wallace remained until the last moment. His was the last hand that
touched Violet's, his the last voice that sounded in her ears with the
words:
"Good-by, queen of my heart, and Heaven bless you!"
Then he leaped across the gang-plank, just as it was being removed.
Violet's heart was full to overflowing at this parting, and she sped
down to her state-room, where, half an hour later, Nellie Bailey found
her sobbing hysterically.
"Why, you silly child!" she cried, assuming a light tone, although her
own eyes were full and her voice tremulous, "this does not look as if
you were very much elated over the prospect of going to Europe. Are all
the tears for that handsome young man who appeared so loath to leave
you? By the way, Violet, was that the Mr. Richardson who saved you at
the time of the inclined plane accident?"
"Yes," Violet murmured, between her sobs.
"I imagined so from something your sister said; she isn't over fond of
him, is she?" Nellie inquired, with a light laugh and a mischievous
glance at the averted face on the pillow in the berth, as she emphasized
the pronoun. "Come," she added, presently, "let us lay out the things we
are likely to need during the voyage, and put our state-room in order,
for there is no knowing how soon we may be attacked by the dread enemy
of all voyagers."
"Oh, I hope we shall not be sick," Violet said, diverted from her grief
by Nellie's practical suggestion, and wiping away her tears. "I love the
water, and I want to make the most of the time we are on the ocean. Let
us make up our minds that we will not be ill."
"I suppose we can control it, in a measure, by the exercise of will
power," Nellie answered, "and I will try what I can do in that respect,
although I very much fear that the sea will prove to be mightier than
I."
The two girls soon had their small room in order, and everything handy
for the voyage, then they went up on the deck to seek their friends, Mr.
and Mrs. Hawley, and the sister of the latter, Mrs. Dwight.
Mrs. Hawley eyed Violet curiously for a moment, noticing her heavy eyes
and the grieved droop about her sweet mouth, then set herself to divert
her mind from the recent farewell, which she plainly saw had been a
severe trial.
She was one of those remarkable women who can adapt themselves to all
kinds of society and circumstances. She could be delightful in a
drawing-room full of cultured people; she could entertain a group of
children by the hour, while the young people pronounced her the most
charming companion imaginable.
It was not long, therefore, before she made Violet entirely forget
herself and her recent sadness, and the young girl soon found herself
laughing heartily over some droll incident of which Mrs. Hawley had
recently been the amused and appreciative observer.
They were standing in a group by themselves, and by degrees became so
gay and merry that two gentlemen, standing a short distance from them,
became infected with their mirth.
"A gay party, isn't it, Ralph?" remarked the elder of the two.
"Jolly; I wish we knew them; and they are about as pretty a pair of
girls as I have ever seen. Do you suppose they are sisters?"
"No, I do not believe it; they have not a feature or characteristic in
common, as far as I can see. That golden-haired one is a perfect little
Hebe; her complexion and features are perfect, her figure faultless,
while she has the daintiest hands and feet that I ever saw," said the
first speaker.
"Really, Cameron, I believe you are hard hit, at last," laughed his
companion. "I never knew you to express yourself so enthusiastically
regarding a woman before."
"I never had occasion," returned Cameron, dryly. "We must manage some
way to make the acquaintance of yonder party--eh, Henderson?"
Fate seemed anxious to give him the opportunity he desired, for, just at
that moment, a gust of wind lifted Violet's jaunty hat from her head and
sent it flying toward the two distinguished-looking strangers, and in
another moment it would have been swept into the sea and lost beyond
recovery.
But the one who had been called Cameron sprang forward, and, with a
quick, agile movement, one sweep of his strong right arm, caught it just
as it was going over the rail.
With a gratified smile on his handsome face, and an air of courtly
politeness, he approached Violet, and bowing, remarked:
"Allow me to restore the bird that took such unceremonious flight."
He glanced at the golden-winged oriole which nestled so jauntily in its
brown velvet nest upon the hat as he spoke.
The fair girl thanked him, flushed slightly beneath his admiring look,
and Mrs. Hawley graciously echoed her appreciation of his dexterity.
"Allow me to compliment you, sir, upon your agility," she said, in her
cordial, outspoken way; "that was a leap worthy of an accomplished
athlete."
"Thanks, madame," young Cameron returned, lifting his hat in
acknowledgment of her praise.
Then he would have withdrawn himself from their presence, though he
longed to stay, but Mr. Hawley, who had been attracted by his fine face
and gentlemanly bearing, remarked:
"Since we are to be fellow-voyagers for a week or more, may I ask to
whom we are indebted? My name is Hawley, of the firm of Hawley & Blake,
Cincinnati, Ohio."
"Thank you," the young man replied, with a genial smile, "and I am known
as Vane Cameron. I am as yet connected with no firm, but my home has for
many years been in New York."
"Cameron--Cameron," repeated Mrs. Hawley, meditatively. "I wonder if he
can be a relative of that Anson Cameron who married the Earl of
Sutherland's daughter about the time of our marriage. It created
considerable talk among the grandees of New York, I remember, for the
lady was very beautiful as well as of noble blood."
Mrs. Hawley's reflection were here cut short by her husband, who
introduced her to the handsome young stranger, and then he proceeded to
perform the same ceremony for the other members of his party.
Mr. Vane Cameron was apparently about thirty years of age, fine-looking,
neither very dark nor very light, with a clear-cut patrician face, a
grandly developed form, a dignified bearing, and irreproachable manners.
He conversed in an easy, self-possessed manner with his new
acquaintances for a few moments, and then craved permission to introduce
his friend.
This request was cordially granted, and Mrs. Hawley ere long
congratulated herself upon having secured a very pleasant addition to
her party, for Mr. Ralph Henderson proved to be no less entertaining,
although a much younger man, than his _compagnon du voyage_.
By a few very adroit questions, and putting this and that together, Mrs.
Hawley learned that Mr. Vane Cameron was the son of Mr. Anson Cameron
and the grandson of the late Earl of Sutherland, consequently the heir
of the distinguished peer; and, more than that, she gleaned the
interesting item that he was now on his way to England to take
possession of his fine inheritance.
It is remarkable how much one woman can find out in a short time. Mrs.
Hawley also learned that Mr. Ralph Henderson belonged to an aristocratic
family who were numbered among the envied "four hundred" of New York.
"If I do not improve my opportunities during the next eight or nine
days, it will be because my usual wit and ability fail me," the lady
said to herself, after making these discoveries. "I have two pretty
girls under my wing, and these young men are not backward in realizing
the fact either. Violet, my pansy-eyed darling, I'll manage to make you
forget that carpenter lover of yours long before your stipulated three
months are at an end, or my name isn't Althea. I'd like nothing better
than to write you among my list of friends as Countess of Sutherland;
and Nellie, my modest little brunette, you would make a delightful
little spouse for that agreeable Mr. Henderson."