THE PROPOSAL.
With all possible haste Claire summoned the housekeeper and gave Faynie
into her charge.
It was more than disappointing to her to have Faynie lapse into
unconsciousness just as she had reached the most interesting part of her
story and was about to tell her how very romantically handsome Lester
had proposed. It had been just like a page from a French novel.
She little dreamed that the art of making love was an old one to him.
Kendale had gone to the Fairfax mansion with the express purpose of
proposing marriage that evening, for only that day Mr. Conway, the old
cashier, had told him confidentially that the affairs of the great dry
goods concern were in a bad shape--that the check for the hundred and
twenty-five thousand which had just been paid out had crippled them
sorely.
And, after a moment's pause and with a husky voice, he added slowly: "If
something like three hundred thousand dollars is not raised within the
next sixty days you are a ruined man, Mr. Armstrong."
This announcement fell with crushing force upon Kendale, who had
imagined that there could be no end to the flow of money that was
pouring in upon him.
"There's only one way of raking in that much money in a hurry, and that
is by marrying the little lame heiress," he soliloquized.
It so happened that he had an engagement to call there on this
particular evening, and he resolved that he would not let the
opportunity slip past him--that there was no time like the present.
Fortune, fate, call it what you will, favored Kendale on this particular
occasion, as it usually did. He found Claire alone in the drawing-room
practising some sheet music which he had sent her a few days before.
She started up in confusion as the servant ushered him into the room, a
swift blush crimsoning her cheeks.
"Mamma will be down directly, Mr. Armstrong," she said, looking at him
shyly from beneath her long lashes.
"Miss Stanhope--Claire!" he exclaimed impulsively, seizing both of her
little hands in his, "may we not have a few words together before my
card is sent up to your mother? Oh, Claire, you would surely say yes if
you knew all I had to say to you. Be kind and consent."
"Since you seem to desire it so earnestly, I am sure I have no wish to
object," she answered, trembling in spite of her efforts to appear
unconcerned under the fire of his keen, ardent gaze.
"You are an angel," he cried, seating himself in a chair so near her
that he could still hold the little fluttering hands, which she fain
would have drawn from his clasp, for, although she had never before had
a proposal of marriage, she guessed intuitively what was coming.
"Since I have but a few minutes alone with you, Claire, what I have to
say must be said quickly," he began.
For the first time in her life Claire was at a loss for an answer.
"I am sure you have guessed my secret, sweetest of all sweet girls," he
murmured. "Every glance of my eyes, every touch of my hand, must have
told it to you from the first moment we met. Did it--not?"
"No," faltered Claire, her eyes drooping like a flower under the sun's
piercing rays.
"Then my lips shall tell you," he cried. "It is this--I love you, little
Claire--love you with all my heart, all my soul. You are the light of my
life, the sunshine of my existence, my lode-star, my hope--all that a
young girl is to a man who idolizes her as the one supreme being on
earth who can make him happy. Oh, Claire, I worship you as man never
worshiped woman before, and I want you for my wife."
She opened her lips to speak, but he went on rapidly, hoarsely:
"Do not refuse me, for it would be my death warrant if you did. I tell
you I cannot brook a refusal from those dear lips of yours. If you do
not consent I shall make away with myself in your presence here and now
with a revolver which lies in my breast pocket."
A scream of terror broke from Claire's terrified lips.
"Oh, do not make away with yourself, Mr; Armstrong!" "I--I will
promise--anything you--you want me to! Only don't shoot
yourself--don't!"
"Then you accept me?" queried Kendale in a very businesslike manner.
"Ye-es--if mamma does not--object," she answered in a stifling manner.
"There must be no ifs," he declared. "You must take me, no matter who
objects. If we cannot bring your mamma around to an amicable way of
thinking, we must elope--that is all there is about it."
"Elope!" gasped Claire in affright.
"Why, what else would there be left to do?" he asked, with asperity. "I
love you and I must have you, Claire, and if you are willing to take me,
why, we will marry in spite of anything and everything that opposes.
"Of course, if your mamma sees things as we do, all well and good; but
I say now to you, her objections must make no difference whatever in our
plans."
"Oh, Mr. Armstrong!" gasped Claire, not knowing what in the world to say
to this ardent lover, who was so impetuous in his wooing.
Before he could add a word Mrs. Fairfax came down the grand stairway,
her silken gown making a rustling frou-frou upon the velvet carpet.
She looked much surprised at finding him there, as she had not been
apprised of his coming.
Kendale arose to greet her in his usual impressive, languid, courteous
fashion, managing to whisper in Claire's ear hastily:
"Make some excuse to leave the drawing-room for a few minutes, dear, and
while you are gone I will broach the all-important subject to your
mother."
Mrs. Fairfax greeted the handsome young man cordially, pretending not to
have noticed how near to each other they had been sitting upon her
entrance to the drawing-room, and how suddenly they had sprung apart.
Her daughter's blushing face and confused manner told her that the
propitious moment had arrived--the handsome heir to the Marsh millions
had proposed.
And underneath her calm exterior Mrs. Fairfax's heart beat high with
exultation. Her quick ear had also caught that rapidly whispered last
remark to Claire, and, realizing that her daughter was too much
flustered to act upon it, gave the young man the opportunity to be alone
with her which he seemed to desire by remarking:
"Dear me, I have left my fan in my boudoir, Claire, dear, would you mind
ringing for my maid to fetch it to me?"
"I will go for it, mamma," returned Claire, shyly, without daring to
look at her lover.
"As you like, my dear," returned Mrs. Fairfax, with very natural
appearing carelessness.
Claire was gone quite half an hour in search of the fan. When she
returned to the drawing-room her mother met her with open arms.
"Mr. Armstrong has told me all, my darling," she murmured, "and I give
my consent. You may marry him if you love him, daughter, and quite as
soon as he wishes."
Kendale left the mansion two hours later with a self-satisfied smile on
his lips.
"Marrying heiresses is much easier than most men suppose," he
muttered--and he stopped short in the grounds, standing under a tree
until the lights went out one by one, shrouding the house in gloom.
Meanwhile, girl like, Claire had flown to Faynie's apartment to tell
her the wonderful news--that her handsome lover had really proposed and
her mother had given her consent, and she was to be married at once.
Faynie's swoon had put a stop to confiding to her all the wonderful
things Lester had said. "I will tell her in the morning," she promised
herself, little dreaming what was to transpire ere the morrow dawned.