"I always knew you were a little simpleton, Queenie, but I never thought
you could be so foolish and ungrateful as this! No girl in her senses
would refuse the chance of spending Captain Ernscliffe's money!"
Three months had elapsed since the grand ball at Mrs. Kirk's, and
Queenie Lyle was arraigned before the bar of maternal justice. Little
Queenie had spent those three months in a perfect whirl of excitement,
pleasure and conquest. And now Captain Ernscliffe, the irresistible, the
invincible, had surrendered at discretion, and actually proposed to
marry her! And little Queenie Lyle had had the audacity to refuse the
honor.
"To think," went on Mrs. Lyle, reproachfully, "how we have humored and
indulged you the last three months, and all for this! You have been to
all the balls and parties worth going to--you have had nice dresses and
laces--and we all thought you would marry off well, and rid your papa of
one of his expensive daughters--yet last month you refused that rich old
Myddleton! I did not care as much for that, for I saw that Ernscliffe
was madly in love, and thought you would be sure to accept him. Yet now
you have actually refused him, too, you wicked, ungrateful girl!"
"Mamma, mamma," pleaded Queenie, with a quivering lip, "do not be angry
with me. I could not marry Captain Ernscliffe, because I do not love
him."
"Then if you do not love _him_ you can never love anyone," exclaimed
Mrs. Lyle. "He is handsome, accomplished, wealthy; and there's not a
girl I know but would jump at _your_ chance, Sydney not excepted."
"Sydney _loves_ him, mamma--let her marry him."
"She cannot get him--more's the pity. I wish he had fancied her instead
of you," said Mrs. Lyle, sharply.
"I wish so too mamma. I am very sorry for Sydney, and for Captain
Ernscliffe, too," said Queenie, with a long, quivering sigh.
"You had better be sorry for yourself, foolish girl; you have thrown
away the best chance for marrying that you ever will have!" exclaimed
Mrs. Lyle, angrily, for she was deeply chagrined at Queenie's willful
disregard of her best interests.
To her surprise Queenie threw herself down at her feet and began to sob
wildly.
"Mamma, I am sorry for myself," she moaned, faintly, "so sorry that I
wish I were dead!"
"For shame, Queenie, to go into such a passion because I scolded you!
Get up and stop making a baby of yourself," said her mother severely.
Little Queenie dried her eyes at that sharp reproof and went on with her
packing, which Mrs. Lyle's entrance had interrupted, for they were to
sail for Europe that week, and the house was "topsy-turvey" with their
preparations.
Her mother sat moodily watching her as she folded silks and laces, and
packed them away securely in the great Saratoga trunk.
"What have you in that box, Queenie?" she inquired, seeing the girl put
a box in the trunk with a half-conscious glance. "You look as if you
were smuggling something."
Queenie blushed violently, and Mrs. Lyle saw that she trembled as she
answered falteringly:
"Nothing of any importance, I assure you, mamma."
"Let me see," said Mrs. Lyle, resolutely, and she took the box from the
trunk and lifted the lid. "Why, what have we here? Flowers--withered
flowers! Queenie, why upon earth are you keeping these dead,
ill-smelling things? Throw them out of the window."
"Oh, no, mamma," cried Queenie, blushing very much and trying to take
the box from her mother's hand.
But Mrs. Lyle held on to the box and took out three bouquets of withered
flowers, and three cards that lay in the bottom of the box. She read
aloud:
"From an unknown admirer of Miss Queenie Lyle."
"Oh dear, dear," said Mrs. Lyle, impatiently; "now I begin to
understand. These flowers, which were sent by some impudent fellow, have
made a fool of you, Queenie. You have been building a romance over him,
and that is why you have no eyes for better men. Tell me the truth now,
Queenie; do you know who sent you these flowers?"
"How should I know, mamma?" asked the girl, evasively, and turning her
crimson face away from her mother's keen scrutiny. "You see he writes
himself unknown."
"Well, known or unknown, here is an end to _that_ foolishness," said
Mrs. Lyle, crossing the room and tossing the luckless flowers out of the
window. "I did not know you were so silly and romantic, Queenie, as to
carry a bunch of dead flowers to Europe."
Queenie stamped her little foot on the floor, and her eyes flashed fire.
"Mamma, you had no right to throw my flowers away!" she passionately
exclaimed. "Papa would never have intermeddled with my affairs like
that!"
Mrs. Lyle dropped into a chair and buried her face in her hands.
"To think that I should have a child that would treat me so
disrespectfully," she sighed.
"What has mamma been doing to my little pet?" asked Mr. Lyle, entering
quietly and unexpectedly, as he always did.
There was an awkward silence for a moment; then Queenie said, with her
sweet face turned away:
"Mamma has been scolding me because I would not marry Captain
Ernscliffe."
"Your papa would do well to scold you also," flashed Mrs. Lyle. "After
all your father's goodness to you, and your pretense of loving him so
well, to think that you would throw away your chance of helping him in
his old age. I have no patience with such folly!"
"Papa, _you_ are not angry with me, are you?" asked his daughter,
turning her soft, beseeching eyes, now swimming in tears, upon his kind
yet troubled face. "I could not marry Captain Ernscliffe, papa, because
I do not love him."
"Love," sneered Mrs. Lyle, scornfully. "Love is the last thing to be
considered nowadays!"
Papa drew the tearful pleader down by his side on the lounge, and
smoothed away the disheveled golden ringlets from the flushed little
face.
"No, dear, I am not angry with you," he said. "It is true that my
business affairs are tottering on the verge of failure, and if you had
accepted the captain he might have helped me to tide over the crisis,
but I would not have you sacrifice yourself, my pet, for I would be loth
to part from you even if you went willingly and happily to another home.
But let us hope for the best. Now that your Uncle Rob is about to take
my expensive family off my hands for a year, I may be able to save some
money and get straight again."
* * * * *
Three days later Mrs. Lyle and her three fair and charming daughters
stood on the deck of the _Europa_ bound for their long and anxiously
anticipated continental tour.