SEARCHING FOR THE BRACELET.
The very sight of her sister's carelessness and gayety, made Elizabeth
feel how necessary it was to be composed; her husband was watching her
still. Some one asked her to play; she took her seat at the piano and
played one of her most brilliant pieces--to sing, and her rich contralto
voice rang out with new passion and power. I tell you even women can
only marvel at the power many of the sex preserve over themselves when
playing for a great stake, and the least betrayal of look or movement
might be full of danger.
The evening passed off without further incident, and the guests went
away delighted with their reception, thinking what agreeable people the
Mellens were, and how happy they must be in their beautiful home.
"Oh--oh--oh!" cried Elsie, flinging up her arms with a yawn that
distorted her pretty mouth out of all proportion. "Thank heaven, they
are gone! I am sure another half hour would have killed me."
"You deceitful little thing!" said her brother, who had nearly recovered
his cheerfulness. "I heard you tell poor young Thompson that you had
never enjoyed yourself so thoroughly."
"Of course I did; what else could I say."
Mr. Mellen laughed and went out of the room.
Elsie was standing by the fire, she was always complaining of cold, and
Elizabeth walked towards her as the door closed.
"Don't!" whispered Elsie, "you are going to talk--don't!"
Elizabeth dropped into a seat with a wearied look, such as a person
wears after hours of self-restraint.
"It's of no use to talk," said Elsie, with an impatient gesture. "You
ought not to have gone out----"
"I know; but I dared not wait. Oh, Elsie! such a scene----"
"Be still!" exclaimed Elsie, with the old passion which seemed so
foreign to her nature. "I can't hear--I won't! Grantley saw you!"
"Yes; he was in the hall when I entered," she replied, with the same
dreary despair in her voice. "I know, I feel that something will happen
at last."
"There must not--there shall not!" broke in Elsie.
"Such madness--such greedy selfishness----"
"Don't tell me," shivered Elsie; "please don't!"
Elizabeth dropped her hands into her lap with a gesture full of
weariness and desolation; as they fell apart she lifted them up to
Elsie, with a look of helpless distress.
"What is it?" cried Elsie. "Don't frighten me!"
"My bracelet!" moaned Elizabeth. "My bracelet!"
"You have lost it?"
"Gone, I tell you! He would have money--I was nearly mad--I pulled it
off to pacify him."
"Which bracelet--not the new one?"
"Yes; the one Grantley brought me. Oh, what shall I do?"
"He won't notice it," said Elsie; "you can wear mine."
"He will notice it," returned Elizabeth. "It may be sold--he may find
it."
"You can say that you lost it."
"But your brother is so suspicious."
"You ought to have had your wits about you," said Elsie, fretfully.
"It is easy for you to talk!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "If you had been in
my place, listening to those threats----"
"Stop, stop!" Elsie almost shrieked, hiding her face in her hands. "I am
going into spasms--I shall choke!"
"But a crisis is near!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "You don't know all that a
bad, desperate creature is capable of, to accomplish his ends."
"I can't do anything," moaned Elsie. "What am I in all this? You
promised to leave me in peace."
"So I will, Elsie--I will. God knows I am ready to bear my burthen
alone; but sometimes I must speak."
"It does no good," said Elsie, beginning to cry. "I'd rather be dead
than live in this way!"
"Be a woman, with some feeling for a sister woman!" cried Elizabeth,
aroused into severity.
"It's all very well for you to talk, you are a great strong thing; I
don't mean that you are big, but your nerves are like iron and I am so
weak. Grantley says he believes the least thing would kill me; he knows
how frail my health is."
Passionate indignation lighted up Elizabeth's face for an instant, but
it softened into pity, like that with which she might have regarded a
pet animal whimpering under a hurt.
"Be good to me," said Elsie. "I can't help you. I don't mean to be
selfish, but I must have my sunshine. I don't dare even to talk about it
at all. If Grant ever should find out anything, even my talking to you
about it would enrage him so!"
"And what would become of me?" demanded Elizabeth. "Do you never think
of what would happen to me?"
"Oh, but he won't find out anything," urged Elsie, changing her tone at
once. "Just let things rest. The wretch will be quiet for a time."
"No, no; I tell you money must be raised."
"More money?"
"I promised it; there was no other way. But heaven knows where I shall
get it."
"Well, tell Grant about some family or hospital----"
"Lies!" interrupted Elizabeth; "always lies! Sinking deeper into the pit
every day. I tell you this constant deceit makes me hate myself!"
"Now you are going off again! Oh, my head!"
"Hush, I say! You are safe, at any rate!"
"Whatever comes, I shall not be dragged into it?" pleaded Elsie.
"No, no; have I not promised?" returned Elizabeth, in her anguish and
her bitterness, hardly noticing the girl's selfish fears.
Elsie threw both arms about her neck and kissed her.
"You are so good!" she said. "Oh, I wish I wasn't such a weak little
thing! Don't despise me, Bessie, because I can't do anything to help
you."
"I don't--I don't. Your arm hurts me!" Elizabeth pushed the girl's
caressing arm away, struggling hard to be calm.
"If I had never known----"
But Elizabeth checked the selfish wail.
"It is too late now to think of that. I tell you I shall not trouble you
any more."
"When the paper fell on the stones," said Elsie, "I was so frightened."
Elizabeth gasped for breath at the very thought.
"But I managed cleverly. I am very weak and nervous, but I have my wits
about me sometimes."
Elizabeth was shivering from head to foot, whether with remorse at the
knowledge of evil which this young girl had gained through her, or some
hidden fear, no one could tell.
"I must go to town," she said; "but what excuse can I make?"
"Oh, anything! Tell Grant we want to make purchases. I'll do it. But why
must you go?"
"The money, I tell you the money! I have those stocks; if I could sell
them. I might tell Mr. Hinchley I was in debt and feared to have my
husband know it. Another lie--another lie!"
"Oh," groaned Elsie, "the lying is the least part of it! if that could
do you any good!"
"You don't know the worst. If you had to face him! Oh, Elsie, the shame,
the remorse!"
Elizabeth wrung her hands again with the same passionate fury she had
displayed after reading the note. Then Elsie began to grow hysterical
and cry out:
"You must stop! you must stop!"
Elizabeth made an effort to control her own suffering and soothe the
girl's nervous paroxysm, to which Elsie gave way with wilful
abandonment, half because she felt it, and half to escape a scene.
By the time they were both quieted Mr. Mellen returned to the room, and
by one of those evil chances that often happen he began speaking of the
very subject that had aroused their fears.
"Those bracelets are the admiration of everybody," he said.
Elizabeth glanced at Elsie. Her first impulse was to hide her hands, but
she checked that and forced herself to utter some sort of answer to his
remark.
Elsie gave another long yawn.
"I am going to bed," she exclaimed; "I advise you both to do the same."
"I wish I understood the meaning of the device. Let me see your
bracelet, Bessie," he continued, without heeding his sister and bent on
his own train of thought. "Just let me look----"
Elsie thrust out her arm.
"Look at mine," she said.
"No, no; Bessie's has a different design. I want to see that. Show me
yours, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth did not stir. Whiter she could not grow, but a hopeless
despair settled over her face, pitiful to witness.
"Can't you show me your bracelet?" demanded her husband, with natural
impatience.
"I haven't it," she faltered.
"Why, I saw it on your arm at dinner!"
"Oh, don't bother, Grant," interposed Elsie; "talking about devices,
when one is half asleep."
"Elizabeth, where is your bracelet?" demanded her husband, imperiously.
The exigency of the case gave her courage.
"I have lost it," she said, her voice sounding fairly indifferent from
the effort she made at composure.
"Lost it!" he repeated. "How? Where?"
"While I was out----"
"She was just beginning to tell me when you came in," interrupted Elsie.
"We are both frightened to death, so don't scold."
"Such unpardonable carelessness," continued Mr. Mellen. "At least,
Elizabeth, you need not appear so indifferent."
"I am sorry, very sorry," she answered coldly.
"Oh, if I had lost mine, I should be wretched," cried Elsie, kissing
hers. "You dear old bracelet!"
Elizabeth shot one terrible look at her, but was silent.
"I am glad that you at least prize my gift," said Mr. Mellen. "I suppose
you have not taken the trouble to search, Elizabeth?"
"I have had no time----"
"The moon is down," said Elsie.
"There are lanterns, I suppose."
He rang and ordered a servant to bring a lantern, went out and searched
for the missing ornament, while Elsie cowered over the hall fire and
Elizabeth stood, cold and white, in the way.
Clorinda came out of her domain while Mr. Mellen and Dolf were searching
the hall.
"Lost something marster?" she demanded, with the coolness peculiar to
her race.
"Missis has lost her bracelet," interposed Dolf.
"Laws!" cried Clorinda, not perceiving her mistress on the veranda. "I
neber seed nobody lose tings so; 'taint a month since she lost a di'mond
ring, and all she said, when her maid missed it, was, 'It can't be
helped.'"
This was an aside to Dolf, but Mr. Mellen heard the words plainly, so
did Elizabeth.
"I'll bet yer don't find it," pursued Clorinda. "I heerd steps early in
de evenin'; I knows I did, though missis called me a foolish cullud
pusson once when I told her of hearing 'em. Dar's thieves about, now;
member I tells yer!"
"Clorinda," called Elizabeth, "go into the house. The next time you
venture any remark on me you will leave my service."
Clorinda sallied back as if she had been shot, and darted into her own
dominions, less favorably disposed than ever towards the mistress for
reproving her before Dolf.
Mr. Mellen dismissed the man, walked into the veranda and confronted his
wife. He was pale as death, in the moonlight. His agitation made
Elizabeth more sternly cold; she knew that look, she had borne it in his
suspicious, jealous moments in the old time.
"Did you lose that bracelet, Elizabeth?" he asked.
"Did I not say so?" she retorted.
"I can't understand it," he went on; "these sudden frights and tremors,
these mysterious losses----"
"The old suspicions," she broke in, goaded into defiance by the actual
danger. "You promised me to have done with all those things, Grantley."
"Admit at least----"
"I will admit nothing. I will not talk to you when you speak in that
tone. I am sorry the bracelet is gone, but I am not a child to be
threatened."
Elsie heard it all, and when the dialogue reached that point she crept
quietly upstairs, determined that at least she would be beyond even the
sound of their difficulty.
For a few moments they retorted bitterly upon each other. Formerly it
had been Elizabeth's resolution to bear in silence, but it is hard to be
patient when one has a fatal wrong to conceal.
It was very unsatisfactory, but there the matter ended.
The next morning Mr. Mellen made another thorough search for the
bracelet. Still no signs of it was discovered, but he did find traces of
footsteps in the grass, which proved the truth of Clorinda's suspicions.
"It's over, at all events," said Elsie, as she met Elizabeth on the
stairs.
"Over!" repeated the half-distracted woman, desperately; "who can tell
how or when it may come up again?"
Elsie kissed her and flew away, leaving Elizabeth to seek safety in the
solitude of her chamber, while she went in search of her brother, not
with the object of benefiting Elizabeth, but anxious to impress upon his
mind that she at least did nothing to distress or vex him.