AS IN A DREAM.
Lelia had never thought much about heaven and eternal justice in her
gay, proud, selfish life.
But Gipsy’s words startled her not a little, and made her wonder and
think.
She believed, and for the first time, that her secret was not confined
to herself and the girl she had wronged.
God and the angels knew all about it, she thought.
And the recording angel had written her terrible sin down against her
name in his big book.
It gave Lelia a queer feeling to think that in the day of judgment
every one would hear her secret sin read out to the whole world that
was so ignorant of it now.
She wished that the heiress had not consigned her to the vengeance of
Heaven. It made her nervous, it frightened her not a little.
And she said to her mother when they were alone that night:
“Mama, do you know much about religion?”
“I belong to the church, but somehow I don’t attend much,” Mrs. Ritchie
said carelessly.
“But you believe in it all, don’t you, mama dear?”
“Why, of course, my dear daughter! To hear you talk one would think I
had raised you like a heathen!”
“Well, you haven’t taken me to church often, and you have never
instructed me on religion, so I have to figure out things for myself.”
“You haven’t been going to a revival lately, have you, my dear? Or are
you thinking that now you are married it would be good form to join the
church and identify yourself with some charities?”
“Neither, mama. I was thinking of the doctrine of punishment for sins.
I want to know whether you believe one is punished here on earth for
sins committed in the flesh, or is judgment reserved for the hereafter?”
“Oh, the hereafter, of course, Lelia. We must come to the judgment
first before we receive punishment for our sins,” glibly replied the
lady, giving her guilty daughter more comfort than she knew.
Lelia sighed with relief, thinking:
“Oh, well, if I am not to be punished until after death, it does not
greatly matter! I am young, and that is a long way off, and I can
repent and get forgiveness before I die.”
Her volatile nature had forgotten already the solemn words to which she
had listened at Miss Willoughby’s funeral.
She tried to put it all lightly from her, but it was too fresh in her
mind to get rid of yet. By day she might turn to other things, but by
night, in restless, horror-haunted dreams, Lelia reviewed her sins.
Much as it chafed her pride and her passion, Lelia could not but find
relief in the studied coldness of Laurie, who cared not to consummate
the marriage that had been forced on him by deceitful arts. He let
Lelia severely alone, and treated her with an indifference that would
have been maddening in any other circumstances.
But Mrs. Ritchie, who managed to be by her daughter every night, still
said, warningly:
“Hold your husband aloof until you get your shattered nerves under
control, and cease to talk in your sleep.”
If Mrs. Ritchie suspected anything wrong, she never hinted it to the
daughter she adored.
But she had some anxious hours that left lines of care around her lips
and eyes, while after Lelia’s strange questions that day she said to
herself:
“What is in the poor girl’s mind? Remorse for a sin committed, or the
fear of being found out?”
They had brought the heiress home, and after a week were still her
guests, for Laurie and the lawyer were busy going over legal matters
and settling up the estate.
The old general, who had conceived a very great admiration for his
sister’s protégée, gallantly saw her installed in all her rights, and
occupying the best suite of rooms in the house.
The servants at The Crags had openly rejoiced on finding that Gipsy was
their mistress’ heiress, and they all remained awaiting her pleasure,
and eager to continue their service.
Gipsy could not enjoy her new position yet. She had not recovered from
the strain of the frightful experience she had undergone. She was pale
and nervous, and two deep gashes on her head, which the gipsies had
sewn up and skillfully doctored, made at times a dizzy throbbing in her
brain, so that Mrs. Goodwill remained always near her, declaring she
would never desert her post again until her young lady was safe and
well.
It was like a dream to the young girl to be the mistress of The Crags,
honored and respected by all, even Lelia treating her like an equal;
but she was always grieving for Miss Willoughby, and yearning to have
her back again.
“She was the only living soul who loved me! Oh, how lonely life is when
unloved and uncared for by any one!” she sighed to her lonely pillow.
She did not dream that Laurie Willoughby loved her with a hopeless
passion; she thought he was only kind, like the rest, because he owed
her some gratitude, and pitied her forlornness. As for the others, she
felt that they were courteous because she was the heiress, that was
all. Lelia and her mother had hated her always, and she felt they were
not altered now.