Mrs. Kemp hastened to the door to meet her niece, and the next moment
the echo of a gay young voice, bright and joyous, rang through the
corridor.
"She must be a very happy girl, and light of heart," sighed Dorothy.
Katy, the maid, had nothing to say. Much to Dorothy's surprise, they did
not come to the room in which she was awaiting them, and she heard them
go on to the drawing-room, and the door close behind them.
Ten, twenty minutes, half an hour passed, still they did not come to
her, though the sound of their merry laughter fell upon her ears from
time to time. Katy tried to arouse her mistress' interest, but it was
useless--the girl never moved from her position, sitting pale and white
in the great arm-chair, with her sightless eyes turned toward the door.
Suddenly she turned to Katy with a great sob.
"They have forgotten me," she said.
Katy had come to this conclusion long before.
"I will tell them you are waiting," she replied, and as she spoke she
hurried from the room to the drawing-room. On the threshold she came
face to face with Mr. Kendal, and at a glance she could not help but
notice the happy, flushed look on his face.
"Miss Dorothy sent me in search of you, sir," she said, with a low
courtesy. The smile on his lips died away in an instant, giving place to
a dark frown of impatience.
"What does she want?" he asked, sharply.
"She says she is so lonesome, sir, and sent me to tell you so."
"Is there a minute of my life that she is not sending for me--expecting
me to be at her beck and call?" he said. "I am going out into the
conservatory to get some flowers for Miss Vincent. I guess it won't hurt
Dorothy to wait a little while, will it?"
"Is that what I shall tell her?" asked the girl, quietly.
"Tell her whatever you like," he said to the girl, hurrying on and
leaving her standing there with a very white, sorrowful face.
Slowly she walked back to the breakfast-room, her heart burning with
indignation. Dorothy met her eagerly.
"Are they coming?" she asked.
"Very soon now, miss," replied Katy.
"What delayed them?"
"I--I think they were getting a cup of tea for the strange young lady,
miss. You know she came quite a long way, and she must be very tired."
"Why, that is very true," said Dorothy. "I wonder that I never thought
of that before. It seemed as though I was not missed," and a sigh
trembled over the girl's pale lips as she spoke.
A few moments later Kendal's step was heard in the corridor.
Dorothy sprang eagerly to meet him, and threw her arms impulsively
around his neck.
Was it only her fancy, or did he draw back from the usual caress as
though he did not care to receive it?
Oh! surely not. Since this horrible blindness had come upon her, her
imagination was running riot against her judgment. The one great fear of
her life was that he might cease to love her, now that this great
affliction had come upon her, and she noted every word, every action,
and every touch of his dear hand, and weighed it over in her mind, for
hours at a time, when she found herself alone.
God pity her if that love should ever fail her!
"Shall Miss Vincent see me soon, Harry?" she asked, nestling her head
against his shoulder, her little hands seeking his.
"Very soon now," he responded. Was it her fancy, or did even his voice
seem changed?
"Do you like her?" asked Dorothy, wistfully.
"Like her?" he cried. "Why, she is charming!"
"Is she fair of face?" asked Dorothy, slowly.
"The most beautiful girl I have ever seen!" he cried, enthusiastically,
all forgetful of the girl by his side, to whom his troth was plighted.
The words struck Dorothy's heart with a cold chill, as a blast of icy
winter wind strikes death to the heart of a tender hot-house flower when
its chill breath sweeps across it.
"They say you went down to the train to meet her," said Dorothy.
"Yes; Mrs. Kemp wanted me to," he responded; "and I shall never forget
that meeting with her niece while life lasts, it was so ludicrous. I
arrived at the depot just as the train had stopped, and the passengers
were already pouring from the car. In my haste to reach the throng I
slipped upon a banana peel, and the next instant I was plunging headlong
forward, bumping straight into an old lady carrying numerous bundles and
boxes, who had just alighted from the train.
"There was a crash and a yell, and a roar of laughter from the
by-standers; and no wonder, for I had crashed directly into a huge jar
of jam which she held in her hand, and in less time than it takes to
tell it I was completely besmeared with it from head to foot. For once
in my life I got enough jam in my mouth, and as I scrambled to my feet I
beheld a young lady standing before me screaming with laughter.
"At a glance I knew it could be none other than Miss Vincent. What I
said as I hastily stepped up to her is but a confused memory to me. I
managed to articulate that I had been sent from Gray Gables with a
carriage for her. The more I said the more she screamed with laughter,
in which I could not help joining to have saved my life.
"'What! ride through the town with a jammed-up man like that!' she
ejaculated. 'Why, that would be too sweet for anything--so sweet that
all the bees in the clover fields we passed would come flying after us
to enjoy the sport.'
"The laugh that followed fairly made the rafters of the old depot ring;
and at this juncture a friend in need came to my assistance--one of my
old chums--and in a trice had stripped off my coat and hat, and replaced
them by a new overcoat and Derby hat which he had just purchased. And
when the luckless jam was washed from my face 'Richard was himself
again.'
"'Now you look something like a respectable human being,' she declared,
as I helped her into the carriage.
"And all during the drive home we had the greatest kind of a laugh over
my ludicrous mishap. It was forming each other's acquaintance under
difficulties, as she phrased it. I can truthfully say that I never was
so much embarrassed before a young girl in all my life. But do you know,
Dorothy," he went on, "that that laughable incident which happened made
us better acquainted with each other during that half hour's ride home
than if we had met under ordinary circumstances and known each other for
long months?"
Dorothy laughed heartily at the highly amusing scene which he pictured
so graphically, and said to herself that now she could understand why
Harry and this strange young girl were laughing so gayly together as
they came up the graveled walk.
"You will be sure to like her," cried Harry, enthusiastically. "I will
go and fetch her to you now."
But just as he was about to put his intention into execution, they heard
the voice of Mrs. Kemp and her niece outside, and they entered an
instant later.
"Dorothy," said Mrs. Kemp, "my niece, Iris, is here. Iris, this is
Dorothy. I am sure you two girls will love each other dearly."
Dorothy, turned hastily toward the direction from whence the sound
proceeded, holding out her little white hands nervously, a great hectic
flush stealing up into her pale face.
"Welcome to Gray Gables, Miss Vincent--Iris," she said in her sweet,
tremulous, girlish voice. "I--I would cross the room to where you are
standing, if I could, but I can not. I can not look upon your face to
welcome you, for--I am--blind!"
There was a _frou-frou_ of skirts upon the velvet carpet, and the next
moment Iris Vincent's arms were about her.
"There could not be a sweeter welcome, Dorothy--if I may call you
so--and I am sure we shall get on famously together," murmured Miss
Vincent, and a pair of ripe red lips met Dorothy's; but the kiss was as
light as the brush of a butterfly's wings against the petals of a rose,
and there was no warmth in the clasp of the soft, ringed fingers.
Somehow, although the stranger's voice was sweet as the sound of a
silver lute, and her manner caressing, Dorothy did not feel quite at
home with her.
"If I should judge by the tone of her voice and the words she utters, my
fancy would lead me to believe that she was very beautiful," thought
Dorothy. "But then Katy said that she was plain, very plain of face,
although Harry has said that she was beautiful. No doubt he wanted to
leave a good impression on my mind regarding her."
The evening that followed was a happy one for Dorothy, because, even
without being coaxed, Harry signified his intention of remaining in the
house, instead of going out to the club, as was his custom.
It had always been a deep grievance of Dorothy's that her musical
accomplishments were so meager.
She only knew a few accompaniments that she had picked up, while Miss
Vincent played divinely.
And her voice--ah! it sounded like the chiming of silver bells. And
then, too, she knew so many beautiful songs, and they were all such
tender love songs.
She was so glad that Harry liked them, too, and her poor face would
flush scarlet, and her white lids droop over her sightless eyes, as the
sweet singer's voice rose and thrilled over some tender love words; for
she felt sure that her Harry was looking at her with all love's tender
passion in his glorious dark eyes.