THE WORST FATE THAT COULD BEFALL.
Delmar had indeed avenged himself. Through Maisie he had pierced the
hearts of those who had wronged him with the poisoned arrows of jealous
pain. He read it in their wild eyes and blanched faces, and he laughed
aloud as he exclaimed, with feigned gaiety:
“How startled you all look! We have stolen a march on you, haven’t we?
But won’t you congratulate us?”
Mrs. French followed the minister in shaking the groom’s hand, and
kissing the fluttered bride, and Mrs. Shirley came next with eager
cordiality.
Indeed, nothing could have pleased her better than this match that
removed at once from her path two dreaded incumbrances--Delmar, whom
her daughter loved, and Maisie, whom Byrd Barrington adored. She could
see her way clear now to making the heir turn to Josephine.
So her congratulations were earnest and cordial, and her face beamed
with smiles even as she thought:
“What a little fool Maisie was to reject the rich brother for the
disinherited one!”
She looked around for Josephine to follow her example, and was startled
into dismay by the sight she saw.
The beautiful girl had sunk back into her chair pale as marble, with
closed eyes and twitching lips, the terrible truth quivering like a
sword-point in her heart. She had lost Delmar forever, and at this
moment she realized that he was dearer to her than ever before.
Oh, they had loved each other so well, and had been so happy together
in that love. In her heart she cursed old Barrington in his grave for
the wrong he had done his younger son.
Suddenly her mother caught her hand and dragged her impatiently up to
her feet.
“Come, Josephine, you must speak to our friends!” she cried.
She was trembling so, she must have slipped and fallen, but that Byrd
Barrington quickly supported her on the other side, whispering gently:
“Come. Do not let them see how much you are hurt.”
A sudden elation at his notice helped to restore her self-possession,
and, clinging weakly to him, she moved forward, uttering some
meaningless words that were drowned in Byrd’s louder tones as he
exclaimed:
“I wish you joy, Delmar, and I am sure that this gain will make up to
you for the loss of fortune.”
“You are right,” his brother answered bitterly, again glancing at
Josephine, whose cold hand he had just touched with one as icy. A
sardonic smile curled his writhing lips as he heard Byrd go on frankly,
to Maisie:
“I cannot say that I do not envy my brother, Maisie. He has won the
prize I coveted, but I wish you all the happiness in the world!”
It was gallantly spoken from the depths of an aching heart, and
the embarrassment of the next moment was fortunately broken by the
announcement of luncheon.
Maisie, blushing and smiling in her bridal happiness, was led to the
table, and all but the pallid, silent Josephine generously united
in making her the heroine of the hour. Champagne was opened in her
honor, and none could say but the disappointed host bore himself
bravely in the hour of his defeat. Nothing was lacking in his cordial
hospitality, and as for boisterous gaiety, of course it could not be
expected in the house of mourning.
But Delmar had yet another surprise in store for them all that day.
He had been growing impatient for some moments, and pushing back his
chair now, he exclaimed suddenly:
“This is delightful, friends, but I must not linger with you longer. I
have kept it to the last to tell you that the Young Guards are ordered
immediately to the front, and I leave here with my company within two
hours.”
There were loud exclamations of surprise that drowned Maisie’s low cry
of dismay as she sat staring wide-eyed at her handsome young husband,
all the color stricken in a moment from her lovely young face, her
heart leaping beneath her white bodice like some wild thing caged and
struggling to escape.
Delmar, with his face flushed from excitement, his eyes blazing, looked
at the pale, agonized face, and added lightly:
“You might have guessed it from my uniform, I think, and it is strange
none of you had heard it. It is too bad, Maisie, is it not, that we
are cheated out of our bridal-tour? But stay with Aunt Constance while
I’m away, like a good little girl, and we shall go when I return.”
She sat speechless, gazing at him in a grief too great for words, and
every eye turned on her face, reading plainly there her heart’s despair.
Delmar, in the passionate excitement of his emotions, went on
recklessly:
“Do not look so sad, Maisie; I shall come back to you a captain, at the
very least, with laurels of victory on my brow. Ha, ha! That will make
you very proud, will it not, dear, faithful little heart that clings to
me with devotion while false ones cast me off for lack of gold!”
His flashing glance fell on Josephine, and seemed to wither her heart
with its angry scorn, so that she forgot for a moment all her folly and
vanity--everything but her own despair, and answered wildly:
“If you are reproaching me, Del, I am not as bad as you think.
I--I--had repented my foolish words of last night, and I thought to
make up our quarrel to-day--but--but--you spoiled it all, marrying
Maisie--so--so--you have no one to blame but yourself for your
misery--and mine, alas!” and ending with a choking sob she hid her face
in her jeweled hands.
“Josephine!” cried her mother in consternation, and jerking her angrily
from her seat she hurried her from the room, reproaching her at every
step for her frenzied outburst.
Alone in the dressing-room Josephine tore herself loose from the
maternal grasp, and laughed bitterly:
“Let me alone, mama! Do you think I did not know what I was doing? I
am more cunning than you think! I enlisted Byrd Barrington’s pity by
my acting, and I punished Maisie for looking so happy by letting out
what she didn’t know, it seems, that Del had just married her out of
spite! Don’t you see how it will work? He despised me while he thought
I was heartless, but now his heart will ache over my repentance, and
he will wish he had waited a while longer for me to make up. And, of
course, he will hate Maisie because she stands between us. Ha, ha! Of
course I didn’t mean what I said about making up with him. I only said
so to make myself seem less heartless in Byrd’s eyes, and to betray Del
to Maisie. No doubt she will hate him now! I hope she will!” sobbed
Josephine, divided between rage and wounded love as she tossed the
light cloak over her shoulders and turned to go.
“Now that you have explained yourself it does seem very clever,
although I was horrified at first,” Mrs. Shirley replied, then turning,
as her hostess entered the room. “Ah, Mrs. French, what an unpleasant
affair! I hope you will excuse poor Josephine. She is hardly herself
after so much excitement. We are going home at once that she may rest.”
Mrs. French owned herself quite flustered also, and she exclaimed:
“It is all a tangle, and poor little Maisie has the worst of it on all
sides! To be married for spite without a spark of love is the worst
fate that can befall any young girl. I do not think she deserves it.
Delmar has treated her shamefully, and how it will end I don’t know.
She has rushed out of the room without ever speaking a single word
to any one, and Byrd and Del are quarreling in the library. A pity
Josephine made such a mess of her love-affair and brought about all
this trouble!” she added resentfully, causing the girl to answer sadly:
“You cannot think any worse of me than I do of myself, Mrs. French.
Last night in the first excitement I thought I couldn’t marry a poor
man, but by morning I repented my selfishness, and meant to make it
up with Del, only--only--I was too late! Oh, please forgive me, Mrs.
French, and--and--won’t you ask Byrd not to be angry with me, either?”
she sobbed as she took a hurried departure with her mother.