Hope, a vision in white, leaned back resignedly in the soft embrace of
the carriage cushions.
"I thought," she said, "you never visited the Grandons, Clarice,
particularly since Harriet made her alliance with the titleless duke."
Mrs. Van Rensselaer smiled behind the laces of her muff. "I didn't
suppose you were going there this afternoon," continued the girl, with a
sweeping look along the solidly built street. "How does it happen?"
"Well, you see," replied Clarice, "_Larry_ wished it; and you know his
wish is law to me--_until_ we're married. That's only right and as it
should be--the _dear boy_!" Then impulsively: "I don't know how I've
ever lived without him, Hope! Positively, he is the _dearest_ thing that
ever lived!"
"And you'll both be tremendously happy, I know. Both of you young and
gay, and in love with life and its frivolities--both the center of your
set, and both rattle-brained enough to want to keep that center and
throw away your lives in the whirling, rapid stream of society."
"You shouldn't ridicule this life, Hope. Don't you know we are the very
pulse of the world! I had an idea you were taking to it pretty well. You
are certainly making a tremendous hit. Even mamma smiles upon you in the
most affectionate manner, and is proud for once of her offspring. You
are simply gorgeous, Hope--a perfect _queen_!"
The girl's eyes darkened, her face flushed. "A _queen_," she retorted.
"A queen! Clarice, did you ever sit upon a throne and feel the world
slipping out from under you? A woman is never a queen, except to the
_one_ man. But you are mistaken, Clarice. I simply cannot adapt myself
to this life. If it wasn't for the continual monotony of it all--the
never changing display of good points and fine clothes--where even one's
own prayers are gilded and framed in consciousness and vanity--and
these streets--the reflection of it all--these blocks and blocks always
the same, like the people they cover--presenting always the same
money-stamped faces--oh, it is this sameness that stifles me! It is all
grand and wonderful, but it isn't _life_." She paused, then smiled at
Clarice's perplexed face. "Leave me at mamma's when you return, for I've
got stacks of things to do, and I want the evening all to myself--Louisa
and I, you know. And we'll say, Clarice, that I perfectly love dear old
New York."
"Oh, I don't mind, dear, not at all! I know you are no more fitted in
your heart for this life than I am for the life out there with those
_dreadful_ Indians. But you've certainly been acting superb these last
two months!"
"You are such a _dear_, Clarice," said Hope impulsively, stroking her
gloved hand. "I have you and Louisa, and, of course, I am perfectly
happy! I tell myself so a thousand times a day. My poor little Louisa!
_She's_ about the happiest girl I ever saw in all my life, but she
doesn't know it. Here she is worrying her head off because Sydney is
pressing his suit too strongly and won't take 'no' for an answer, and
she thinks she ought to be faithful to poor Fritz, her cousin, who is
really only a sweet, sad memory to her now, while all the time she is
crazy in love with Syd. Isn't it a fright? But Sydney is way out in
Montana, and his letters serve only as little pricks to her poor
conscience. Her replies are left mostly to me, so that is what I must do
to-night."
"But your mother entertains this evening. Had you forgotten?" reminded
Mrs. Van Rensselaer. "So how are you going to get away?"
"I suppose I will have to come down for awhile, but I simply will not
remain long."
"Well, I will see you then. Larry and I are going to drop in for a
little while in the early evening."
When they drove away from the Grandons' a half hour later Clarice
searched the girl's quiet face for some expression of her thoughts, but
found none.
"So you have seen the Lady Livingston at last, Hope! What do you think
of her?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders and looked into the street. "Your
description tallied very well," she replied.
That evening Hope met the blond Lady Helene at her mother's musicale.
This time it was Clarice, again, who brought the meeting about.
Mrs. Van Rensselaer was in her gayest, most voluble mood.
"I'm _so_ anxious to have you two get acquainted," she said. "Dear Lady
Helene, this is _Hope_--Miss Hathaway, and she can tell you everything
you want to know about the West. Do, Hope, entertain her for a few
moments until I find Larry." This the girl did in her gracious way, but
adroitly kept the conversation away from the West.
After a few moments Clarice returned without Larry. A shadow of
disappointment crossed her face as she joined the conversation.
"I thought you were going to talk about the West, Hope," she laughed,
"and here you are talking _New York_--nothing but New York!"
"New York is always an entertaining topic," said Lady Helene. "I do not
seem to fancy the West particularly. You know Lord Livingston has
recently been hurt out there, and so I do not enjoy a very kindly
feeling toward that country. The poor boy! I have been so worried about
him! Really, don't you know, I haven't had a good night's sleep since I
heard of his injury! Yes, you know, it's a wonder he wasn't _scalped_!
It's just fearful, really! He is so much to me, you know. Ever since my
poor husband died and the title and estates fell to Edward, I have felt
a _great_ responsibility for him. He is so much younger than my husband,
Lord Henry, and so, well, really, sort of wild, don't you know." Here
Lady Helene smiled and wiped one eye with a filmy bit of lace. Perhaps
she was saddened by thoughts of the havoc she had wrought in the life of
the late lord, and his fortunes.
Hope sat motionless, suddenly paralyzed. "Do you mean," she asked, in
short gasps, "that Edward--Lord Livingston is not your _husband_?"
"Mercy, no," replied Lady Helene, "my husband's brother! Indeed, Edward
is not married! I doubt very much if he ever will be. I hope if he does,
that it will be to someone at home, in his own class, don't you know!
Really, he is a great responsibility to me, Mrs. Van Rensselaer! Why,
where did Miss Hathaway go? She seems to be such a bright, dashing young
woman. Really, one meets few American girls so royally beautiful! Yes,
as I was saying, Edward is a terrible responsibility to me. Even now I
am obliged to hurry away because he has just arrived here in town, and I
must meet him at his hotel. That is the worst of not having a house of
your own! To think of poor, dear Edward stopping at a _hotel_!"
"Which one?" gasped Clarice. Receiving the information, she abruptly
excused herself from Lady Helene, who immediately decided that some
Americans had very poor manners.
While Clarice drove rapidly toward Livingston's hotel, Hope, in eager
haste, was literally throwing things in a trunk that had been pulled
into the center of the room. Little Louisa, no less excited and eager,
assisted.
"To think, my Louisa," laughed the girl, "that we are going back to our
West--_home_--again, away from all this fuss and foolishness! Oh, don't
be so particular, dear. Throw them in any way, just so they get in! Our
train leaves at twelve, and I have telephoned for tickets, state-room
and everything. Isn't it _grand_? Mamma will be furious! But dear old
Dad, won't he be glad! He's so lonesome for me, Louisa. He says he can
hardly exist there without me! And Jim, and Sydney, and--everyone! Oh, I
am wild for my horses and the prairie again! And you've got to be nice
to Syd! Yes, dear, it's your _duty_. Can't you see it? If you don't, the
poor boy will go to the bad _altogether_, and something _dreadful_ will
happen to him! And it will be all your fault!" Which statement sent
Louisa into a paroxysm of tears, not altogether sorrowful.
"You will spoil dose _beautiful_ clothes!" she finally exclaimed,
looking in dismay through her tears at the reckless packer.
"It makes no difference," laughed Hope. "What are _clothes_! We will
have the rest sent on after us. I suppose we've forgotten half what we
really need, but that doesn't matter, either, does it, my Louisa?"
Louisa dried her tears and assisted until the trunk was packed and
strapped. Then they took hold of hands and danced like children around
it. Suddenly Hope stopped, her face growing white and fearful.
"_If he shouldn't forgive me!_" she exclaimed softly.
"Ah, but he lofs you!" said Louisa.
At that moment Mrs. Van Rensselaer opened the door and looked in.
"My dear," she began, then stopped in amazement. "What in the
world----Why, you are going away!"
"Yes," replied Hope, putting her head down upon Clarice's soft evening
wrap. "I am going back to----"
"But he has come to you, dear, and he is waiting right here in the
hall!"
"No, no!" breathed the girl.
"But he _is_!" exclaimed Clarice, gently pushing the girl, still in all
her white evening glory of gown, into the great hall. "And he carries
his arm in a sling, so _do_ be careful!" she admonished, closing the
door upon her.
From below came the indistinct murmur of many voices. Under the red
glare of the lamp at the head of the broad staircase Livingston and Hope
met in a happiness too great for words.
"Louisa," said Clarice Van Rensselaer, from her seat upon the trunk, "I
hope you see it your duty to make a man of Sydney."
"_A man_," replied Louisa indignantly, "he is already de greatest man in
all de whole world, and _I lof him_!"
FINIS.
* * * * *
TRANSCRIBER NOTES:
Punctuation corrected without note.
page 48: "through" changed to "though" (as though talking to herself).
page 95: "bloodthristy" changed to "bloodthirsty" (more bloodthirsty
than she suspected).
page 123: "protuded" changed to "protruded" (teeth protruded from her
thin lips).
page 303: "upon" removed from text as redundant (patting him upon the
head).
page 369: "close" changed to "closed" (just before the flap of the white
tent closed upon her).