Katy gazed long and earnestly at the picture before her.
Miss Vincent sat at the piano, magnificently dressed in a pale blue
chiffon evening dress, with great clusters of pink roses at her belt, at
her throat, and in the meshes of her jetty curls.
Beside her, turning over the music, and bending like a lover over her,
was Harry Kendal.
And as the girl watched she saw him suddenly lift to his lips the little
white hand that was straying over the keys.
"Do let me persuade you to sing for me, Iris," he was saying. "In what
have I so far offended you that you are so ungracious to me this
evening, Iris?" he murmured, reproachfully.
"I do not know that I am any different to-night from what I have always
been," pouted the beauty. "I simply do not feel like singing, that is
all."
"You have changed your mood very suddenly, Iris," he declared. "You
asked me to come into the drawing-room to hear you sing, and now you
tell me that you have changed your mind. What am I to think?"
"Whatever you please," she answered, curtly.
"Tell me one thing, Iris," he murmured, a little hoarsely, bending
nearer over the pretty, willful coquette; "were the words of the song
you intended to sing suggestive of a sudden coldness between two very
near and very dear friends?"
"I will not listen to you!" cried Iris, petulantly.
"I repeat, what have I done to offend you, my dear girl?" he cried.
"Say to yourself that it was surely not my intention nor my will. You
asked me to come to the library to listen to some poems. When I stepped
into the room I saw at a glance that you had quite forgotten the
appointment, Harry, by the picture that met my glance."
He knew in an instant to what she referred--he sitting in the arm-chair
with Dorothy by his side, her arms twined about him.
"I did not ask her in there, Iris," he said, huskily. "I found her in
there when I entered the apartment. She was evidently waiting for me.
She met me with tears and reproaches, and if there is anything that is
detestable to a man it is that line of conduct, believe me."
Iris shrugged her shoulders, but made no reply.
"Why did you not come in when you came to the door?" he asked, bending
dangerously near the fatally beautiful face so near his own.
"Because I thought that two was company--three would be a crowd," she
responded, proudly tossing back her jetty curls.
"_You_ would always be welcome to _me_, Iris," he said, huskily. "You
know that but too well by this time, don't you?" and his hand closed
tightly over the one lying lightly in her lap, and his head drooped
nearer still.
"Great Scott! they are almost kissing each other, the two vipers!"
panted Katy to herself, her blood fairly boiling in her veins at the
sight of this billing and cooing. "Oh, if I only dared put poor Miss
Dorothy on her guard!"
She could not refrain from bursting in upon them at this critical
instant, and in less time than it takes to tell it she had bounded into
the room.
"A-hem, a-hem!" she coughed, pantingly; "but if you please, miss,"
turning and addressing herself to Iris, "the housekeeper is looking for
you, and wants you to come to her."
"Certainly," said Iris, springing up from the piano stool with a face
flushed as red as a peony and a very confused look in her eyes; "I will
go at once;" and with an assumed smile on her face she glided from the
room, muttering below her breath:
"I'd like to choke that little imp of a maid! Whenever I am talking to
Harry Kendal, if I turn around I find her at my elbow."
Katy was about to follow Miss Vincent from the room, when Harry called
to her.
"Remain a moment," he said. "I wish to see you."
With a little courtesy Katy obeyed.
For a moment or two he stood quite still in the center of the room,
toying nervously with the medallion on his watch chain, and a very
perceptible frown on his dark, handsome face.
"Tell me, how long have you been standing there, girl?"
She hung her head, but did not answer; but that silence told him quite
as much as words.
"The wisest girls are those who never see or hear anything," he
declared, eyeing her sharply.
Again Katy courtesied, making no reply. She knew quite well what he
meant.
"I may as well come to the point and say that you are not to mention to
any one anything that has taken place in this house--especially in this
room to-night. Now here is something that may help you to remember the
old adage that 'silence is golden.'" And as he spoke he thrust a bill
into the girl's hand, motioning her from the drawing-room, and turning
abruptly on his heel, he sauntered slowly across the room and flung
himself down in an easy chair.
Katy hurried quickly upstairs.
"The grand rascal!" she muttered; "to pay me to help deceive Miss
Dorothy! How my fingers tingled to box his ears! I longed to stamp my
foot and cry out: 'You handsome villain--engaged to marry one young girl
and making love to another! Oh! for shame! for shame!' It's a pity that
Miss Dorothy hasn't a good big brother to give him the trouncing he so
richly deserves. The Lord knows it's an unhappy life Miss Dorothy will
lead with him, and it would be a blessing in disguise if something
should happen to prevent the marriage from taking place. As for that
sly, black minx, Iris Vincent, she must have a soul as hard as adamant
and cruel as death to cheat a poor blind girl out of her lover, and to
try all her arts to win him from her. They fairly make love to each
other in her very presence; and she, poor soul! never knows it, because
she is blind! The curse of God will surely fall on them, and they will
be punished for their treachery to poor Miss Dorothy--and she so
trustful and innocent! I wish I could think of some plan to break that
up. Goodness knows, I wouldn't do such a thing for anything in the wide
world. I have always believed that the angels take terrible vengeance
upon any girl who takes another girl's lover from her by her wicked
coquetries."
By this time she had reached Dorothy's _boudoir_. She found her young
mistress waiting for her with the greatest impatience.
"Well," said Dorothy, quite as soon as she had opened the door, "who's
down there?"
For an instant the inclination was strong within Katy's heart to tell
the whole truth of what she had seen and heard. It was not the dollar,
which seemed to burn in her pocket, that made her hold her tongue, but
the fear of giving poor blind Dorothy pain, that caused her to hold her
peace.
"Only Mr. Kendal, miss."
"I thought I heard voices," she said, wonderingly.
"Miss Vincent was there when I entered the room, but left a moment or so
after," answered Katy, truthfully.
"Were they talking together? And what were they talking about?" asked
Dorothy, eagerly.
"That I can not say, miss," returned the girl, flushing to the roots of
her hair, and inwardly thankful that her poor young mistress could not
see the distress which she knew must be mirrored on her face.
"Were they speaking so low that you could not hear them?" inquired
Dorothy, quickly.
"Oh, no, miss! quite loud; but I was not listening."
Dorothy gave a sigh of relief.
"If it were not so late, I would go down stairs," she said,
reflectively. "But then, there's the ball to-morrow night. I will be up
late, so I suppose it would be just as well for me to rest to-night, for
I want to look my best, Katy. I would give the world to look bright and
gay as any girl there. I could hear the music, the patter of dancing
feet, and the sound of merry laughter. And, oh, Katy! perhaps I might
forget for a few brief moments my terrible affliction. I know Harry will
be happy amid the brilliant throng, and that thought alone will be joy
enough for me. You shall sit with me, Katy, to hold my wraps, my
flowers, my fan, and--and you must watch sharp, and tell me, Katy, if he
dances with any pretty girl the second time."
She felt that she must make a confidant of some one, even though it was
Katy, the maid.
"You must not think for one moment I am jealous, Katy," she said, "for I
assure you I am not; only as host I should not like him to pay too much
courtesy to any one person, you know."
"Certainly not," assented Katy.
"I have asked Iris what she intends to wear, but for some reason she
does not tell me, so I want you to notice particularly what she has on,
and if she looks very pretty. But then, I think she is sure to look
nice."
"I shall look very closely, you may be sure of that," responded Katy,
"and tell you of everything that goes on--who's dancing, and who's
sitting in corners flirting, and just who Mr. Kendal dances with. Will
he take you in to supper, miss?" she asked, suddenly.
She was sorry the moment after that she had asked the question, for
Dorothy's poor, sightless eyes filled with great tears.
"You know that he would like to," she murmured, faintly, "but it would
be a ghastly sight--a poor blind girl sitting at the festal board with
the gay guests. Oh! why did God put such a terrible affliction upon me?"
throwing out her little white hands and beating the air as she sobbed
aloud in her agony. "Why can I not enter into his joys, and share them
with him as others do? Oh, Katy! will I not make but a sorry wife for my
handsome king--my idol? I wonder what he can find about me to hold me
still dear in his eyes, for I am no longer pretty, willful, madcap
Dorothy, as they once called me."