EUGENIE GOES AGAIN TO CHATEAU D’OR.
It was some time during the latter part of January that the new life
came to Chateau d’Or, and Madame Verwest telegraphed to Haverleigh, ‘You
have a son.’ It was a big, healthy-looking boy, with great blue eyes,
and soft curly hair like Anna’s, but otherwise it was like its father,
‘all Haverleigh,’ Madame Verwest said, as she hugged the little creature
to her, and, amid a rain of tears, whispered something over it which
Anna could not understand. Was it a blessing, or a prayer that this
new-born child might be kept from the path of sin trodden by another
child which once had lain on her bosom, as soft and helpless and
innocent as this, with the Haverleigh look on its face. Nobody could
tell what she thought or felt, but from the moment the first infant wail
echoed through the dreary house, Madame Verwest took the little one into
her love and heart, and seemed to care for it far more, even, than the
mother herself, for at first Anna shrank from the child so like its
father, and felt better when it was not in her sight. But with returning
health and strength there came a change; the mother love had asserted
itself, and Anna was much happier than she had been before the little
life came to claim her care. But for her husband there was no
tenderness, no love—only a growing disgust and antipathy to him, and an
increased dread of his visits, which were more frequent than formerly.
He was very proud of his boy—Arthur he called him—though there had been
no formal christening, because there was in the neighborhood no
Protestant priest. But Haverleigh meant to bring one down with him from
Paris and have a grand christening party, and when Eugenie proposed
visiting the chateau, he decided to have it while she was there, and to
persuade her to stand as god-mother. So a box of elegant dresses, both
for Anna and the child, was forwarded to the chateau, with the
intelligence that Madame Arschinard would follow in a few days, together
with a Protestant clergyman, who was traveling for his health, and whose
acquaintance Haverleigh had accidentally made at a hotel. The prospect
of seeing Eugenie again, and hearing from her whether she had ever
written to America, and with what result, was a delightful one to Anna,
who had never been so lovely even in her girlish days as she was that
afternoon in early April, when, with her baby in her arms, she stood
waiting the arrival of the train which was to bring the expected party
from Paris. She had never heard of Fanny Shader, and naturally supposed
that Elise would accompany Eugenie, as she did before.
The train was late, half an hour behind time, and when it came, and the
carriage returned from the station, to Anna’s inexpressible relief her
husband was not in it. A sprained ankle, which was so very painful that
he could not put his foot to the floor, would detain him in Paris for a
few days, Eugenie explained, as she warmly greeted Madame Haverleigh,
and stooped to kiss the baby in her arms. Then, turning to her maid, she
said, in English:
‘Here Fannee, take my shawl and hat up to my room. Somebody shall show
you the way, while I sit here a little minute in this pretty court.’
It was the first time Anna had noticed the new maid who had stood partly
hidden by Eugenie, gazing at her with flushed cheeks and bated breath,
and trying so hard to keep from rushing upon her and crying out, ‘Oh,
Anna, sister, I am Fred. Don’t you know me?’
“She did not know or dream that the tall, slight girl in the gingham
dress, with white apron and straw hat, was other than a waiting-maid,
English, probably, as Eugenie addressed her in that language; and she
felt glad of the change, for Celine, her own maid, had not agreed very
well with Elise on the occasion of her last visit at the chateau. It was
Celine who conducted the new girl to Eugenie’s rooms, and tried to be
gracious by using the little English she had learned from Anna.
“‘How you call yourself?’ she asked. ‘_Fannee, votre nom? c’est bien
joli._ Are you _Anglaise ou Americaine_?’
“There was a moment’s hesitancy, and then Fred answered:
“‘_Je suis Anglaise._’
“Whereupon Celine, delighted that she could speak a word of French, and
taking it for granted she could speak more, rattled on so vehemently
that her companion stood aghast, comprehending nothing except that
Celine had thought him _Americaine_, because he was tall and thin, and
not—not ‘_comment appellez vous cela_,’ she said: ‘very much grown, much
stomach and chin, _comme Anglais_.’
“‘_Anglais_ thin _quelque fois_,’ Fanny said: and then the mischievous
Celine commented upon his hands and feet, which her quick eyes had noted
as large and unfeminine, albeit the hands were very white and shapely.
“Coloring to the roots of his hair, Fred stood the ordeal as well as he
could, feeling almost as if he were in the presence of a detective, and
should have his real name, and sex, and business screamed to all the
world. But Celine was far from suspecting the truth, and rather liked
_la femme Anglaise_ on the whole, and while the ladies talked together
in the court below, took her over the house and showed her the view from
the windows, and presented her to any of the servants whom they chanced
to meet as _Fannee_, who was _Anglaise_, and came from _Londres_.
“Meanwhile Eugenie and Anna sat talking on indifferent subjects, while
all the time the latter was longing to ask the all-important question as
to whether there was any news from America. At last she could endure the
suspense no longer, and grasping Eugenie’s hand, said, in a whisper:
“‘Tell me, have you written? Do they know? I have waited so long for
some message.’
“‘Yes, I have wrote; and they do know, and _la mère n’est pas morte_, as
I tell you, but lives in Millfield the same. More I tell you _plus
tard_,’ was Eugenie’s reply.
“And the next moment Anna had fainted.
“The shock was too great for her, and with a little gasping cry, which
sounded like ‘mother,’ she fell across Eugenie’s lap, where she lay
unconscious, while the excitable Frenchwoman screamed lustily for help.
Celine and Fred had just come out upon the open gallery which ran
entirely round the court and connected with the sleeping rooms on the
third floor.
“Both heard the cry, and both started for the rescue, but _la femme
Anglaise_ outstripped Celine, and taking Anna in her arms as if she had
been a child, exclaimed:
“‘Where is her room? Let me take her to it.’
“‘_Oui, oui_, I show you,’ Celine replied, as she led the way to her
mistress’s room, ejaculating ‘_Mon Dieu!_ what strength slim people must
have to carry madame so.’
“Oh, how tenderly Fred held his unconscious sister, never thinking of
her weight, thinking only that he had her in his arms, and could press
his boyish lips against hers, and hug her to his bosom. Very gently he
laid her upon the bed, and then stood back while restoratives were
applied, until she opened her eyes and showed signs of returning
consciousness.
“‘She hold _l’enfant_ too long in her weak state, and just fainted
sudden,’ Eugenie explained to Madame Verwest, who cared for Anna until
she seemed wholly herself and declared that she was as well as ever, but
would like to be rather quiet, with no one to sit with her but Madame
Arschinard.
“‘She never tires me,’ she said.
“And so the two had tea together in Anna’s room, and were waited upon by
Celine, so there was no chance for further conversation until the next
morning after the late breakfast, when Eugenie invited Anna to her room,
where the _soi-disant_ Fanny was busy arranging her mistress’s wardrobe
in the closet and drawers.
“At her Anna did not even glance, but she knew she was in the room, and
felt anxious for her to leave, as the presence of a third party would
necessarily prevent her from questioning Eugenie with regard to
Millfield. But Fanny was apparently in no hurry to leave, and it seemed
to Anna that she was purposely dawdling and taking a long time to
accomplish a little.
“Anna was occupying the seat which Eugenie offered her, near the window,
and directly facing Fanny, whose movements could all be seen if one
chose to watch her; and despairing of her quitting the apartment, Anna
began at last to watch her as she moved from box to closet or shelf,
sometimes with her face turned full toward the window where Anna sat,
and sometimes with her back that way. At last, as Anna made no sign of
recognition, Eugenie said:
“‘Fanny, have you found that box of bon-bons?’
“‘Yes, madame, I have found it,’ was the reply, spoken in Fred’s own
natural voice, which sent a thrill through Anna’s veins, and made her
heart beat rapidly as she thought of home and Fred, whose voice Fanny’s
was so like; and Fanny was like him, too—the same walk, the same motion
of the hands, the same turn of the head. Surely, surely, she had seen it
all before, and involuntarily grasping Eugenie’s arm, she whispered in a
tone of affright:
“‘Who is she—that girl you call Fanny?’
“‘That girl’ heard the question, and, turning square round toward Anna,
tore off the cap from the head, and, running her fingers through her
curly hair, gave to it the old, natural look, and then stood confronting
the startled woman, whose face was white as marble, and whose lips tried
in vain to articulate the one word: ‘Fred.’
“He had her in his arms the next moment, kissing her passionately, and
saying to her:
“‘It’s I, Anna; truly Fred, and no ghost. I’ve come to get you away, to
take you home to mother, who is not dead. Sweet sister, how much you
must have suffered; but it is all over now. Madame and I will save you
from that dreadful man.’
“Then Anna’s tears began to flow, and she sobbed passionately, while
Fred tried to comfort and reassure her by talking of Millfield and home
as of things just within her reach.
“‘Before all the summer flowers are gone we will be there,’ he said;
‘but you must be very discreet, and no no-one here must ever know that I
am not Fanny Shader. Don’t I make a nice maid? Only Celine thinks my
feet and hands too big,’ he said, as he adjusted his jaunty cap again,
and walked across the floor with a swinging motion to his skirts which
set Anna to laughing hysterically, and so saved her from another
fainting fit.
“Eugenie put away her own dresses and finery after that, and left the
brother and sister free to talk together of all which had transpired
since the day Anna left home with the man who seemed to her more and
more a demon, as she learned all he had written of her to her friends.
“‘He must be mad himself,’ she said, ‘as I can see no motive for his
pursuing his petty revenge so long and to such extremes.’
“And then together they talked of her escape, which Fred had come to
accomplish, or rather to assist in, for Eugenie was the one who was to
plan and devise, and both agreed to trust her implicitly
“After a long consultation it was decided that Madame Verwest should be
taken into confidence and be told at once who Fanny Shader was, and
after that matters were to rest for awhile and Eugenie to remain at the
Chateau d’Or until the last of May or the first of June, during which
time Fred was to devote himself to the baby and become so necessary to
its well-being that to leave him at the chateau as nurse would be
comparatively easy of accomplishment, after which the _denouement_ was
to follow naturally.
* * * * *
“Mr. Haverleigh’s sprain proved more serious than he had at first
anticipated, and it was nearly two weeks before he was able to come down
to the chateau. Then he arrived unannounced one afternoon, and was
accompanied by a young English clergyman, a rollicking, easy-going man,
who was out on what he called _a lark_, and who enjoyed nothing better
than the trip to Chateau d’Or with Haverleigh, for whom he had conceived
a great liking. The christening was uppermost in Haverleigh’s mind. His
boy, his son and heir, must have a name, and the second evening after
his arrival the ceremony took place, and the baby was baptized _Arthur
Strong_, Eugenie standing as god-mother, and Fanny Shader holding the
child. Fanny had proved invaluable, and entirely superseded the fine
lady from Avignon, who had come to the chateau when the child was born,
and when Haverleigh arrived there was a plan on foot for keeping the
girl entirely as baby’s nurse. This plan was made to appear wholly
Eugenie’s, who felt it a duty to part with her treasure for the good of
her little god-child. In this matter Haverleigh was not particular, and
greatly to the satisfaction of all parties Fanny became little Arthur’s
nurse, and was thus almost constantly in Anna’s society. Once or twice
Haverleigh had looked curiously and closely at the new girl as if there
was something familiar in the features, but Fred always seemed to know
when he was an object of inspection, and managed adroitly to get out of
sight without appearing to do so. He never spoke to his master except to
answer a question, and then his manner was exceedingly deferential and
quite gratifying to the man, who liked nothing better than a cringing
manner in a servant, as if he were lord and master of all.
“Those spring days at Chateau d’Or were very pleasant ones, for Anna was
buoyed up with the hope of escape from the man who grew each day more
and more detestable and terrible to her. His evident admiration for
Eugenie, which he did not try to conceal, would alone have made her hate
him had there been no other cause. But Eugenie’s infatuation for him was
ended, and though she had no fear or dread of him in her heart, like
Anna, she had no liking for him, and only feigned to tolerate him until
she had achieved her revenge, for with her it was nothing more than
that. She was not a woman of good or firm principles of any kind, and
with the right or wrong she did not trouble herself, but she had loved
her young sister with an all-absorbing love, and if she could do aught
to harm the man who had wrought her sister’s ruin she was resolved to do
it; so she lingered at the chateau and professed herself so much in love
with Anna and the child that she could not endure the thought of a
separation from them, and only decided at the last to return to Paris on
condition that Anna should be allowed to visit her sometime in June or
July. And to this Haverleigh consented, and said he would himself come
down from Paris for her when she was ready for the journey. But this was
no part of Eugenie’s plan. When Anna left Chateau d’Or she must leave it
without other escort than her brother, and of her ability to manage this
she constantly reassured Anna, who grew so excited and anxious that she
sank into a kind of nervous fever, which confined her to her room when
Eugenie at last said good-by, and started for Paris with Haverleigh.