AN OUTBREAK OF JEALOUSY.
In a few moments Mrs. Dennison came out of her chamber, still in her
riding-habit. She was pale as death, her eyes gleamed, and her lips
quivered. She dashed into the balcony, and laid her hand on Jessie's
shoulder with such rude suddenness, that the young girl drew back with
an impulse of surprise.
"What is the matter, Mrs. Dennison?"
Mrs. Dennison looked at her a moment, subdued the quivering of her lips
with a great effort, and broke into a laugh so hoarse and constrained
that Jessie shrunk back.
"What is the matter?" she said. "Why, nothing; only we have but just
time to dress for dinner, and here you stand as if the whole world could
wait."
I could see that her frame was trembling from head to foot. The color
would not come back to her face. With all her powers, she was but a
woman, and a jealous woman at the best. From that moment I felt very
sure that Cora had performed her mission promptly. Jessie could not
understand it, but stood looking at her guest in blank amazement.
"You have ridden too far," she said, coldly, "and the fatigue has shaken
your nerves, I fear. Shall I send for a glass of wine? it will be some
time before dinner."
"Wine? no; but--but I will take a glass of water, if you please, Miss
Hyde."
Jessie seemed anxious to get away, for she started before I could
anticipate her to order the water, and I was left alone with Mrs.
Dennison. Her self-command was giving way again. She sat down, and,
covering her face with both hands, shook from head to foot; but she did
not weep. Something too hard and fiery for tears possessed her.
"Yes," she said at last, "Miss Lee is right! These long rides do shake
one's nerves terribly!"
Directly Jessie came bringing a glass of water. With her usual delicacy,
she would not intrust the duty to a servant, who might witness her
friend's discomposure and comment upon it.
Mrs. Dennison held the water a moment, regarding Jessie with gleaming
eyes, as if she longed to dash the contents in her face; but the insane
fit went off. She drank the water, and arose to leave the balcony.
"I am not usually nervous, but this ride has completely upset me."
With these words she left the balcony and went back to her room.
"She is very ill, I am sure, Aunt Matty," said Jessie, full of gentle
sympathy; "pray go and see if nothing more can be done?"
I went to Mrs. Dennison's chamber and knocked; no one came or spoke. But
the door stood upon the latch, and the vibration of my hand unclosed it.
Mrs. Dennison was standing in the middle of the room, white with rage,
and with specks of foam on her lips. She was tearing open her habit with
a violence that made the buttons start. The face with which she met my
intrusion was that of a beautiful fiend.
I closed the door and went back repulsed. But without giving me time to
cross the hall, she came to the door, opened it wide, and called me in
with a laugh.
"Come back one moment," she said, "and tell me which of these two
dresses is most becoming. That which I had intended for dinner, Cora has
been altering, and she has spoiled it entirely. I confess, Miss Hyde,
that my temper is not good enough to stand a pet dress in ruins. The
fact is, I have frightened poor Cora half to death."
Quick as lightning, while her mistress spoke, Cora laid some dresses on
the bed, apologizing, in a low voice, for the mischief she had done. If
I had possessed no clue to the scene, it would have deceived me
completely; but I comprehended it too well, and absolutely felt myself
growing faint with disgust.
"I am no judge in these matters," I said, without any pretence at
cordiality; "nor would my opinion be of the least consequence if I were.
Your dresses always prove becoming, Mrs. Dennison."
"The first compliment I ever received from you," she answered,
impressively; "I shall remember it with gratitude."
I went quietly out of the room, tired of the scene.
A little while after this, Lottie came to me with one of her keen
smiles, and, opening her hands, which were folded palm to palm, gave me
one glimpse of a little note, primrose-tinted, and sealed with a drop of
green wax, in which an antique head was stamped.
"What is it? whom is it for?" I inquired, thinking that it must be
intended for Jessie.
"You'll see to-night, or to-morrow morning," she answered. "Mrs. Babylon
writes on handsome paper; I won't use white any more. I'll say this for
her: when it comes to dress and pretty things, she can't be beat easy.
Don't quite come up to Mrs. Lee: who can?--but putting her aside, I
don't know Mrs. Babylon's match."
"And is that Mrs. Dennison's note?"
"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies."
"But how came it in your possession?"
She eyed me a moment sideways, then broke forth as if some grand thought
had just seized upon her.
"Now, I'll make a bargain with you, Miss Hyde. If you'll just persuade
my mistress, or Miss Jessie, to buy me half a dozen sheets of that
straw-colored paper, I'll tell you all about it."
"But what can you want of primrose paper, Lottie,--you that never write
letters?"
"No; but I may take to writing poetry; who knows?"
She said this with a twinkle of the eye that provoked me. How on earth
had that creature got hold of my secret weakness?
"It isn't at all likely that you'll want paper for that purpose, Miss
Lottie."
"Miss Lottie--Miss! Well now, I have always said that if there was a
genuine lady, and no nonsense in this house, it was you, ma'am. Even my
mistress hasn't got up to that mark--Miss Lottie! Wouldn't that look
beautiful on a yellow note like this? Miss Lottie--"
She plumed herself, like a bird, in the ecstasy of my random speech, and
both her hands and her heart opened at once.
"Now, I'll tell you all about it! There's no secret, and if there is, I
didn't promise not to tell; that is, down in my heart. Cora came to me
just now, and says she, 'Lottie, you know all the men about the
premises, I suppose?'
"'Well, pretty much,' says I.
"'I thought so,' she said. 'Now, here is a little note that my mistress
wants to have sent right off. If you can coax one of the men to take a
horse from the stable, and just gallop over to Mr. Bosworth's with it,
and bring an answer back, she'll give you that dress you took such a
fancy to.'
"'Well,' says I, 'hand over the note; I'll get it done.' She had been
holding the note seal up all the time, and says she, 'Lottie'--not Miss
Lottie, mind--but, 'Lottie, can you read writing?'
"'Can you?' says I.
"'No,' says she; 'colored people seldom do.'
"'Well, then I don't.'
"'Well, this note is for a lady that is staying at Mr. Bosworth's; she's
an old friend of Mrs. Dennison's, and we want to hear from her.'
"'All right,' says I. 'If you hadn't told this, it would be Greek and
Latin to me.'
"She handed over the note, and told me to put it in my bosom for fear of
its being seen. So I did; and came here, but not till I had read Mr.
Lawrence's name on the outside. Now, Miss Hyde, just tell me what to
do."
"There is one thing you must not do, Lottie, and that is, tempt any of
the men from their duty."
"But then that dress! Light green foulard, with bunches of roses--sweet
roses!"
"Wait a moment, Lottie; we must not do anything without Mr. Lee's
sanction: that will never answer."
I went up to Mr. Lee, who was sitting in the window recess, apparently
reading, and asked if he could spare a horse and man long enough to ride
over to Mr. Bosworth's.
"Who wishes to send?" he inquired, indifferently.
"Mrs. Dennison," I answered, not unwilling to give him the information.
He held the paper a little tighter in his hand, repeating:
"Mrs. Dennison! What correspondent has she at Mrs. Bosworth's?"
There was an effort at indifference in his voice, but it did not conceal
that he was touched.
I did not feel at liberty to answer his question, and said nothing.
After a moment's silence, he said,--
"Certainly, Miss Hyde. Our guests always command here."
I went back to Lottie, and told her to carry Mr. Lee's orders to the
stable, and, if she wished it, claim her reward. She seized my hand in
an ecstasy of delight.
"Oh! Miss Hyde, I never will talk about poetry again, never so long as I
live; but I'll tell everybody that you don't know a thing about it, no
more than I do; and I believe it."
With this outburst she went away. Directly after, I saw one of the
grooms riding down the road. Two hours after, he came back, and gave
Lottie, who was waiting near the pine woods, with great appearance of
secrecy, a note, with which she went at once to Mrs. Dennison, evidently
resolved to keep up appearances, and leave her employers in the belief
that the whole thing had been managed privately.
I had thrown the subject of the note quite off my thoughts, when the
groom, who had been to Mr. Bosworth's, came to me in the garden with
distressing news.
Poor young Bosworth was ill--so ill, that he had not been out of his
room for some days; and his mother desired very much that I should come
over and see him. He had spoken of it several times, and, now that he
was growing worse, she could refuse him nothing. It was asking a great
deal, but would I come at the earliest time possible?
This was indeed sad news. I liked the young man. He was honorable,
generous, and in all respects a person to fix one's affections
upon--that is, such affections as a lady just dropping the bloom of her
youth may bestow on the man who looks upon her as a sort of relative.
Of course I would go to see Bosworth in his sickness. "God bless and
help the young man," I whispered; "if she could only think of him as I
do!"