Laurel went slowly into the house and was received with joy by Mrs. Le
Roy and Clarice. She was touched when the proud, stately lady kissed
her warmly on the lips, and when she saw the trace of tears in the dark
eyes, she felt conscience stricken and ashamed.
"She gives all this tenderness to Beatrix Gordon, the daughter of her
old friend," she thought sadly. "If she knew the truth, she would hate
me." "I am sorry and ashamed to think that I have created a sensation
for nothing," she said, with frank shame. "The truth is I fell asleep
in a secluded part of the grounds, and I do not know when I should have
awakened if Mr. Le Roy had not found me."
The maid said to herself that it was surely the most fortunate nap her
mistress had ever taken, for she had thus escaped meeting Mr. Gordon's
clerk. She little dreamed of that unfortunate meeting at the gates of
Eden that evening between Ross Powell and the false Beatrix Gordon.
Laurel received the letter and the packet. She opened the latter
first, and found that it contained a beautiful set of pearls in a
velvet-lined, Russia leather case.
"It is a beautiful gift," said Mrs. Le Roy, who was a critical judge
of jewels. "It is a pity we live so quietly at Eden; you will have
no chance to display them. I shall have to give a dinner-party or a
reception."
"Oh, pray do not--at least on my account," panted Laurel, growing
crimson, and frightened all at once. "I should not like it,
indeed--that is, I mean mamma would not. I have not come out yet, you
know."
"Very well, my dear, I shall not do so unless you wish. I am rather
pleased that you do not care for it, for I am rather fond of seclusion
and quiet myself. But I fancied it must be very dull for a pretty young
girl like you," replied Mrs. Le Roy, kindly.
"Dull!" cried Laurel, with shining eyes. "I have never been so happy
anywhere in my life!"
But she said to herself that she would never wear the jewels, the
beautiful, shining, moon-white pearls, never! She would send them at
the first opportunity to the true Beatrix Gordon.
And while Mrs. Le Roy pondered delightedly over her impulsive words,
Laurel opened and read Mrs. Gordon's letter.
When she had finished, she sat for some little time in silence, musing
gravely, with her small hands locked together in her lap.
"Does your letter trouble you, Beatrix?" asked Mrs. Le Roy, seeing how
grave and anxious she looked.
The girl looked up.
"Mamma and papa are about to take a little Southern trip for the
benefit of mamma's health," she said. "Mamma dreads the beginning
of autumn in New York. The changeable weather affects her lungs
unpleasantly. She has written to ask if I would like to accompany them."
"I have received a letter of the same import from Mrs. Gordon,"
answered the lady. "She allows you to take your choice in the
matter--to go with her, or to remain at Eden with me until she returns."
Laurel gave her a wistful, inquiring glance from her expressive eyes.
The lady interpreted it aright.
"I shall be happy if you elect to remain with me that long, my child,"
she answered, cordially, in answer to that mute question.
"Then I shall stay with you. I do not want to go away from beautiful
Eden," cried Laurel, quickly.
"Thank you, my dear, I am gratified by your preference," Mrs. Le Roy
answered, smilingly.
Little more than two months ago Mrs. Le Roy had been vexed beyond
measure at the intrusion of this stranger into her sacred family
circle. Now the girl's untutored graces had won their way into her
heart, and she saw with pleasure that St. Leon's first studied
avoidance of the intruder had given way to a mild toleration that
sometimes even relaxed into genial courtesy. The stately lady had her
own plans, and it was no part of them for Beatrix Gordon to leave
her now. She had written to Mrs. Gordon and confided her plans to
her, meeting with that lady's cordial approval. Their mutual desires
and plans for Beatrix boded no good certainly to Cyril Wentworth's
happiness.
Laurel's heart beat with sudden fear and dread when she heard that Ross
Powell was coming again to Eden; but Clarice gave her, unperceived, a
swift, telegraphic look implying that she would manage that all right,
and Laurel, confident in the cleverness of the maid, felt her beating
heart grow calmer and her nervousness subside.
When Laurel went to her room that night she wrote to Mrs. Gordon,
thanking her for the gift of the beautiful pearls, and expressing her
desire to remain at Eden during the Southern tour. Clarice, who, in
addition to her other accomplishments, was a clever chirographist,
copied this letter over into a clever imitation of Beatrix Gordon's
writing, and made it all ready for Mr. Powell when he should call for
it the next day.
Laurel did not appear at breakfast the next morning, and Clarice
carried her excuses to Mrs. Le Roy with the most innocent air in the
world. Her young mistress had contracted a severe headache from her
unwitting nap in the night air and dew the previous evening. It was a
very natural sequence. No one dreamed of doubting it. A delicate repast
of tea and toast was sent up to the sufferer who spent the day on her
soft couch in a darkened room, and was, of course, quite too unwell to
see her visitor when he called.
Ross Powell received the letters for Mrs. Gordon, and went away without
giving much thought to the fact that he had not seen Miss Gordon. His
mind was far more exercised over the fact that he had been utterly
unable to find Laurel Vane.