Eugene Mallard did not look up as his young wife entered the room. He
was gazing so steadily out of the window that he did not even hear her
light footsteps. She went up to him timidly. Whatever she was about to
say died away on her lips, for the expression on his face startled
her. She had never seen him look so cross before.
At that moment the servant announced: "Mrs. and the Misses Staples!"
Eugene Mallard stepped forward quickly to receive them. How his face
lighted up! Was it only her fancy, or did he hold the hand of the
prettiest girl a moment longer than was necessary? Then he turned and
introduced them to his young wife. Louisa and Dora Staples looked at
her eagerly; she could see great surprise in their faces.
Were they disappointed in her? That was the first thought that crossed
Ida's mind. How was she to know their thoughts? Dora Staples came
forward, holding out her hands and blushing like a school-girl. Louisa
stood back, gazing in puzzled wonder at the bride.
"We were very sorry that we could not be here to witness your
home-coming and to participate in the grand wedding reception that
every one is talking about even yet. But we were miles and miles away."
Then the conversation drifted into other channels.
A few moments later two gentlemen arrived--Captain Drury and Arthur
Hollis. Ida remembered them well; they had been to the reception. The
two girls were delighted at this acquisition to the party, and in a
few moments Dora Staples had captured the dashing captain for a chat,
leaving Arthur Hollis for her sister Louisa.
But Mr. Hollis was not in a mood to enjoy the senseless chatter of Miss
Louisa Staples, for whom he inwardly felt a cordial dislike.
On the pretense of wishing to smoke a cigar, especially as her mother
and Mrs. Mallard had joined the group, he begged her to excuse him for
a little while. He saw his host on the terrace, and stepped out of the
long French window, and went at once to where he stood.
"I congratulate you upon the rare beauty of your wife," he said,
touching him familiarly upon the arm. "I thought her exceedingly
pretty the first time I saw her; she has grown more beautiful since."
"I really ought to be obliged to you for the compliment," returned
Eugene Mallard, laughingly.
"You ought to love her very much, for she is worth loving," said Arthur
Hollis, bluntly, as he knocked the ashes from his cigar.
"Has any one told you that I do not?" asked Mallard, quickly.
"No, certainly not; but she does not look happy," returned Hollis,
thoughtfully. "As a friend of many years' standing, I feel myself
privileged to speak without reserve to you, my old comrade. Forgive
me for saying that though your bride's eyes ought to be filled with
sunshine, they are noticeably sad and dreary. Hers is not a happy face,
Eugene."
Mr. Mallard frowned. He had heard quite enough of this topic. His
wife's face did not interest him. Arthur Hollis had been his friend for
long years; they had been chums from childhood. Suddenly Eugene turned
and laid his hand on Arthur Hollis's shoulder.
"I have a strange explanation to make to you," he said in a voice husky
with emotion. "Your keen eyes have discovered, Hollis, what I would
fain have kept from you. A full confession is good for the soul, they
say, and I will tell you this much, Arthur: the girl whom I told you
so much about, is not the one whom I have married. At the altar, in a
dimly lighted church, this girl took the place of the one whom I was
to wed, and I did not find it out until we had been pronounced man and
wife."
Hollis could not have been more completely astounded if a volcano had
opened at his feet.
Eugene Mallard had to repeat his words before Hollis could grasp the
whole meaning of what he had heard.
"You must not think that I wronged her in any way, that she had any
claim upon me," went on Eugene Mallard, huskily. "Do not judge me too
hastily. It all came about through a mistake. She--she--mistook me for
Royal Ainsley, my cousin, and hearing that I was to be married, came
there, and--and, by the aid of a woman, succeeded in becoming my bride.
And now, because of it, three lives are ruined. I am trying to make
the best of it, but it seems, at times, as though I will not be able
to bear up under it--my whole heart belonging to one woman, while I am
wedded to another."
"Great heavens!" exclaimed Hollis. "I did not dream of such a state of
affairs!"
"She is my wife in name only," added Eugene Mallard, bitterly. "I do
not know what the future will bring forth. I can only say that I am
trying to live it out as best I can. My life is full of wretchedness,
and I can not see what will be the end of it all."
Now Arthur Hollis could readily understand the brooding look in Ida's
eyes. Why she was graver, more thoughtful, more abstracted than when he
had seen her last.
While they were talking, another carriage drove up.
They saw a beautiful face at the window.
"It is Vivian Deane," said Mr. Mallard.
Hollis looked surprised.
"I hope, my dear boy," he said in a tone of jest, beneath which was
certainly a vein of earnestness, "that Miss Deane has got over her mad
infatuation for you, now that she knows you are married!"
Mr. Mallard looked thoughtful.
"I suppose you are wondering why I invited her here," he said, slowly,
"and I may as well tell you the truth, that you will not for a moment
imagine I sent for her to indulge in a flirtation. Miss Deane wrote me
that she was coming to pay my wife a fortnight's visit, so what could I
do. Without waiting to receive a reply from me, here she is. You will
come with me, and welcome her?"
"Certainly," said Hollis, understanding Eugene's position.
Miss Deane looked exceedingly annoyed as the two men approached.
She had calculated upon meeting Eugene alone. She meant to tell him
in a few words that her life was ruined because of his marriage. Now
she could only exchange the merest formal greeting. Biting her red lips
fiercely, and forcing a smile to them, she held out her hand.
"I am so delighted at seeing you again, Mr. Mallard," she declared,
giving Hollis a stiff, haughty bow.
Eugene assisted her from the carriage and avoided looking at her as
much as possible--a fact which annoyed her exceedingly.
"And I am so anxious to see your bride," she continued.
Eugene could readily understand that, and so could Hollis.
Hollis followed his friend to the drawing-room. He stood by the young
bride's side when Vivian Deane was presented to her.
He had expected to see an expression of bitter dislike on the doll-like
pink-and-white face. He was surprised and relieved to see Vivian hold
out her little hands and murmur in her cooing voice:
"I am so delighted to see you, Mrs. Mallard, I am sure we shall be
friends."
Ida gazed anxiously, wistfully, into the pink-and-white face. Vivian's
sea-blue eyes met her gaze unflinchingly; her red lips, which suggested
more of art than nature, wore a mask of the sweetest smiles.
The young bride drew a deep breath of relief. She had been
unnecessarily frightened, she told herself. Now that Vivian knew
Eugene was married, she had in all probability resigned herself to the
inevitable.
"Probably she has another lover by this time, and thinks no more of
Eugene," thought Ida.