A HAND OF ICE LAY ON HER HEART.
It is a cold, frosty night, the moon and clouds seeming to have a game
of hide-and-go-seek across the sky, when Mrs. Dale is already enveloped
in her warm dark blue blanket suit and Tam-o-Shanter, with Mr. Blair, in
heavy brown overcoat and Christy hat, not having been in our land long
enough for his blood to have lost its warmth and to feel the need of
furs.
Before they start Mr. Cobbe rings the bell, and is admitted to the
library, Mr. Blair turning out the gas in the drawing-room, and Thomas
receiving orders that "no one is at home."
"Suppose she should not come this evening," said Mrs. Dale, as she and
her companion returned from a brisk walk to a post box, and neared
Holmnest. "You know, she misses his trail; at all events, does not watch
for him here every evening."
"Hush! she is in the shade of that pile of lumber and bricks in front of
the house that is being built next to Holmnest," he whispered,
hurriedly.
"So she is; that is lucky; and now to follow our plan. We shall not see
her for some minutes, but endeavor to interest her by our talk about
that scallawag and poor Elaine."
"I don't think, on second thought, that that would be our best plan; we
had better go up to her and demand to know her relations to him," he
said, quickly, in an undertone.
"No, no; I know best."
As they neared, the tall, slight figure, clad in a brown ulster and
small round hat, disappeared to the other side of the lumber, almost out
of sight, but well within ear-shot.
"Stand here a minute, Mr. Blair; before we go in I want to tell you what
I fear will be the result of Mr. Cobbe's determination to marry Mrs.
Gower against her will," she said, in clear tones. On this they could
hear that the woman took a step nearer in the deep snow on the
boulevard, that had drifted in the recent storm to the lumber. "You must
see yourself," she continued, "that the compulsory oath he compelled her
to take is killing her; and none know better than you do yourself that
her love is not his; almost all friendly feeling even she had for him
prior to that oath, has fled; yet still he will keep her to it; and she
will marry him some day, in a fit of desperation to get rid of him, and
to show you that you are free to marry some more fortunate woman. It's
my belief he is a mere fortune-hunter, and cares no more for her than we
Americans care for you, in annexation; we only care for the loaves and
fishes (especially the latter). I simply hate to go in to the house; it
makes me double my fists to see him making love to her." The last words
she said to rouse the woman's wrath; she knows her sex well, for,
ploughing through the snow a few steps, she faces them.
Mrs. Dale gives a little scream. Mr. Blair, turning quickly, says, in
decided tones,
"Oh! you are here again; well, I am not sorry, for I had determined to
put a detective on your track to-morrow, and am glad to have an
opportunity of warning you first."
"Any woman would do no more nor I do, just standing here when I please,"
she said, doggedly, her teeth chattering, partly from nervousness,
partly from cold.
"Poor thing; you are half frozen," said Mrs. Dale, to show she was not
unfriendly.
"We shall not detain you long, young woman," said Mr. Blair, quickly, as
he thinks of the woman he loves worried by the man he hates; "all we
want to know is your name and address, and what hold you have on Mr.
Cobbe; for a woman of your respectable appearance would not follow a man
about unless she had some hold on him--some real right to watch his
movements. You have overheard this lady and myself talking over this
matter, and I can assure you it would add materially to our peace of
mind could we compel Mr. Cobbe to do right by you; come now, no delay,
no beating about the bush; tell the truth and shame the devil; out with
it."
"Gentlemen lie quicker than a working girl, like myself," she said,
suspiciously. "I have heard what this lady said, but how do I know that
it's all square? Phil. said if you caught me hanging around after him,
you'd get me took up, and here is a peeler coming; I see what you're
after."
And she tries to run, but Mr. Blair holds her firmly until the policeman
passes.
"I tell you I mean you no harm; but you _must_ tell your connection with
Mr. Cobbe, _and at once_."
"Give me till to-morrow night, sir, for the love of heaven, and I will
try again if Phil. will give your lady up, that I have wished to kill
for coming between us; aye, and would have fired Holmnest on her some
night, but for this lady's words that she don't want my man. My name is
Beatrice Hill, and I live at 910, Seaton Street; I will tell you the
rest to-morrow night, if he will not give her up," she said, bursting
into tears.
Mr. Blair made a note of the address, Mrs. Dale saying kindly, "You had
better come around to the kitchen and get thawed; you are----" when,
turning suddenly to Mr. Blair, who has his back to a couple coming down
the street, she says, quickly,
"Here are the Smyths; stand where you are; and you too, Beatrice Hill."
"Hello!" cried Smyth, coming upon them suddenly (that is Toronto's
pass-word). "How do you do, Mrs. Dale; how do, Blair?"
"How happy would I be with either," said his lively wife, aside to Mr.
Blair; "oh, I beg pardon," she continued, seeing the other is not one of
them. "How is Mrs. Gower?"
"She is not very well this evening, and is, I hope resting. How is it
your little son is out when he ought to be under the bedclothes? That's
one thing I am glad my boy is at boarding-school for."
"Oh, this young man has been to a party at the Halls, and we had to trot
up for him. Give Elaine my love, and tell her one look at handsome
Doctor Mills, on our street, will cure her; he cured my baby. So, come
around to-morrow, all of you. Oh, Will, we had better go in to Holmnest
for a minute. I want to tell Elaine you have heard from Charlie."
"Oh, no; go in to-morrow. This little chap is nearly asleep."
"All right. Mrs. Dale, please tell Mrs. Gower that Charlie Cole is at
New York, and she may expect to see them any day. Good night."
"Good night."
"Come, Mrs. Dale, we had better go in at once; you must be very cold."
"Yes, I am. You had better come round and get thawed out in the kitchen,
Beatrice Hill, I will bring you."
"No, thanks; I am used to it. I'll just walk up and down, to keep from
freezing."
"Perhaps you had better not try to see him to-night, it is so cold."
"Not try to see him!" she exclaimed. "I see him too seldom, and love him
too much for that," she said, pathetically, "and I must see if he will
promise me to come no more where neither of us is wanted."
"Remember! you are to be here to-morrow night to tell us your hold on
him, unless he gives Mrs. Gower up," he said, firmly.
"I will, sir; thank you both," she said tearfully, as, turning towards
the gate of Holmnest, they each slip a five dollar bill into her hand.
"Poor thing, I think she is hard up," said Mrs. Dale, as they ring the
bell; "see her examining the bills by the lamp."
"Yes, so she is, to see if they are 'Central'; had she not been sold by
my _bete noir_, I should say she was a canny Scotchwoman."
On Thomas opening the door, they see Mr. Cobbe draw close the _portiere_
hangings of the library, as if to say, no admittance.
"Have you a match, Thomas?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then light one jet in the drawing-room, please."
Here they sit quietly talking for half an hour, during which, at times,
Mr. Cobbe talked loud and excitedly, while sometimes Mrs. Gower's voice
came to them in pleading, or quieting tones.
At last he goes into the dining-room, asks Thomas for some sherry,
drinks two glasses; is again in the hall, his over-shoes, coat, and fur
cap on, in his excitement picking up Mr. Blair's gloves, which, when in
the street, finding his mistake, he dashes into the road.
Angry and troubled by Mrs. Gower's words, he is kinder to Beatrice Hill
than he has been for some time.
"You here again, Betty. _You_ are infatuated with me, anyway."
"Indeed, I am, sweetheart, but my love doesn't content you. You bet, I'd
sooner have a black look from you than a kiss from any man living. The
saints forgive me, when I think of the holy Father and cardinals, and
how I worship you, Phil."
"Yes, you are wild about me, I know, Betty, but we men are different to
you, you know; we have so many adorers, we can't go mooning forever
around one woman."
"And you are not angry with me to-night, Phil, for coming again to get a
sight of your dear face?"
"No, I am not angry with you to-night; but you must not come again; they
don't like it," he said, importantly.
"If I don't see you, I may as well die," she says despondently. "I love
you better than any of them ladies do," she says, feeling her way.
"Hang her, she is as fickle as her clime," he says, half aloud, thinking
of Mrs. Gower.
His companion made no response, knowing who he meant, but her heart is
lighter at his words.
"Hang it, Bet, it's a freezer; if you have any money about you, I'll
hail this sleigh if it's empty."
"Yes, sweetheart, here it is," giving him one of the fives.
In a minute they are under the buffalo robe, when, according to promise,
she coaxes, entreats, and implores him to give Mrs. Gower up, but he
angrily refuses to listen to anything on the subject; entertaining her,
instead, with recitals of all the girls on King street who, he is sure,
are dying for an introduction to him, and of several women of his
acquaintance being infatuated about him, his companion assenting to all
he said; getting out at his own quarters, paying the driver to 910
Seaton street, pocketing the change. Beatrice Hill alone, thinks out her
plan for the following evening with tears, which she brushes away with
bare hands, having given her mits to her fickle swain to keep his hands
from the frost.
"Yes, I must tell them all," she thought, weeping silently, "else Phil
will make her marry him. Father Nolan would tell me to do so, to save
him from guilt. He will turn to his faithful Betty again when he sees
how they sit on him, when they know all."
As the hall door had closed on Mr. Cobbe making his exit, Mr. Blair
said, turning out the gas:
"Let us go to her."
Mrs. Gower meets them in the hall, looking pale and agitated, her eyes
larger and darker in her pale face, her sensitive mouth quivering.
"I was just coming for you," she said, and on her eyes meeting Mr.
Blair's, in answer to his loving, steadfast gaze, hers told him that her
appeal has been in vain.
"He would not free you?" he said, compassionately.
"No."
"Well, then, he must be compelled to," said Mrs. Dale, energetically;
"we are not going to stand by with folded hands, and see the remainder
of your life made wretched by a weak, vain, frivolous thing like that.
You have had trouble enough in the past, heaven knows."
"Yes, we must act; we must endeavor to interview the woman," he said
sympathetically, preparing her for what might occur.
"I fear your kind efforts in my behalf will prove useless, Alec. You
would only ascertain that she is some poor creature whose heart he has
gained, but who is not bound to him in any way. She is faithful, where
he is false," she says, gravely, "and is breaking her heart for him--a
way we have--that is all. No, 'Blessed are they who expect nothing,' I
must keep well in my mind for the future. I scarcely deserve this from
Fate, for I have been pretty brave hitherto through troubles, that at
the time were sufficient to crush all hope, leaving not the faintest
gleam; but I struggled through the clouds in my sky, which, finally
parting, I saw the sunbeams once more. My plan now is, to close up this
my home, sweet home, or ask you, Ella, or Mr. Cole, to take it off my
hands for a year. It would please me best to know some one I care for
was among my little treasured belongings."
"Mr. Cole, Charlie's father is at the Tremont Hotel, Jacksonville,
Florida. My plan is to ask Miss Crew (as you don't require her services,
and her mind is easier as to money matters), to accompany me for the
remainder of the winter to the same place as my friend Charlie's father;
he is a most worthy man and a gentleman. At the close of winter we would
cross to the British Isles. To myself, a Canadian, it would be a
complete distraction, as I have never been across; and I pray fervently,
will take me out of self," she said sadly. "We would visit London and
some pretty rural spots, the Devonshire lanes, perhaps; and then the
Emerald Isle, thence to bonnie Scotia's shores; taking, perhaps, more
than a peep at fair Dunkeld," she says, trying to smile in the grave
face of Mr. Blair. "I have foreseen the result of my appeal to Philip,
and so have been laying my plans for some days."
As she spoke, trying vainly to hide her emotion, more than one tear had
been stealthily brushed away by her sympathetic little friend, who,
seeing that Mr. Blair is suffering intensely, from suppressed feeling,
says bravely, though rather doubtful at heart:
"Mark my words, Elaine, that woman will free you; say good night to us,
Mr. Blair, I am medical attendant _pro tem._, and Elaine must take a
sedative, and room with me to-night."
"You are right, Mrs. Dale; be brave, Elaine," he says, holding her hand
in his firm grasp, "to-morrow your clouds must again pass. I shall come
in after luncheon."