JEALOUSY
With a feeling of utter dismay, Brownie disengaged herself from Wilbur
Coolidge’s embrace, and started to leave the room.
But the two women barred the way, and would not let her pass; while Mrs.
Coolidge demanded, in stern tones:
“Pray, what is the meaning of this affecting scene?”
Wilbur colored deeply, but braced himself for battle.
“Mother—Isabel—let Miss Douglas pass!” he commanded, in a voice as stern
as Mrs. Coolidge’s own.
They dare not disobey him in that mood, and moving aside, Brownie passed
out, and sped swiftly to her own room.
“Now I will answer your questions, if you have any to ask,” the young
man said, folding his arms, and regarding them with a gloomy brow.
“I should like to know how that designing hussy succeeded in entrapping
you into making such a fool of yourself?” said Isabel, furiously.
“Really, Isabel, you are acquiring an elegance of speech at which I am
surprised!” retorted her brother, sarcastically.
“Wilbur, hush! Isabel, keep quiet!” said Mrs. Coolidge, authoritatively.
Then, turning to her son, continued:
“I am astonished, my son, at what I have just witnessed. That girl will
ruin the peace of this family yet.”
“She has ruined it already, as far as I am concerned,” he replied,
moodily; then added:
“But, mother, Miss Douglas is in no way accountable for what you saw. I
alone am to blame. I had just asked her to be my wife——”
“What!” exclaimed both women, aghast.
“Yes; I began to love that beautiful girl the first moment I saw her.
Further intercourse has only served to deepen and strengthen that
sentiment, and to-day I resolved to ask her to be my wife, that I might
shield and protect her from further insult and abuse on your part.”
“Indeed!” said his mother, growing white with anger.
“When is the wedding to take place between you and this lovely beggar?”
sneered Isabel.
“I warn you not to try me too far, either of you!” Wilbur replied, with
a dangerous gleam in his eye; then added:
“You did not permit me to finish my statement. However, I have only to
tell you that Miss Douglas has refused me.”
His mother heaved a sigh of intense relief, and murmured:
“What an escape!”
While Isabel retorted:
“Showed her good sense for once! She probably knew she would not be
received into a respectable family after what occurred yesterday. You
always were a fool when there was a pretty face around.”
“Thank you! But be it known to you both, that if she had so chosen, I
should have made Miss Douglas Mrs. Wilbur Coolidge just as soon as the
law would have allowed,” was the stern reply.
“Now, if you please,” he added, addressing his mother, “I would like you
to write a recommendation for Miss Douglas.”
“A recommendation for what—truth and honesty?” she sneered.
“For her thorough education and superior accomplishments, and her
efficiency and success as a governess,” he retorted, firmly.
“I shall do no such thing!” was the indignant reply.
“Then, mother, mark my words, if Miss Douglas goes away from here
without a recommendation from you, as a good governess, a refined and
cultivated lady, I leave this house also to-day, and utterly refuse to
accompany you farther on your tour. Is it not enough,” he continued,
excitedly, “that you abuse and insult her, prowling about among her
possessions, and appropriating them, without driving her forth from your
home with no means of providing for herself in the future?”
“Of course those jewels do not belong to her, Wilbur—why will you
persist in such nonsense? I honestly believe the girl is a thief!” said
Mrs. Coolidge, impatiently.
“But just suppose the future proves they are her property, who, then,
will be the thief?” he demanded, hotly.
“Why, if she can prove it to me satisfactorily, then I shall have to
yield them up to her, of course,” replied Mrs. Coolidge, flushing, and
not relishing this side of the question.
“Will you give her the recommendation?”
“I suppose I shall have to, in order to keep you with us.”
She dreaded nothing so much as his roaming off by himself.
“Then make it out at once—and a good one let it be, too; for Miss
Douglas leaves to-day.”
“Does she, indeed? I have not dismissed her yet, I believe,” sneered the
irate woman. But she sat down to the table and began to write.
“That will not be necessary, since she has already decided to go.”
“Thank you,” he said, as she handed him what she had written, and he ran
his quick eye over it. “That will do nicely. Now, if you will give me
what you owe her, I will hand both to her at the same time.”
She saw that her son was in no mood to be trifled with, and did as he
requested, although inwardly resolving to be equal with the despised
governess, if ever the opportunity should offer.
Wilbur took both paper and money, and left the room. He went directly to
Brownie’s door, and tapped. She opened it, and he saw that she had been
weeping. The sight filled him with self-reproach.
“Forgive me,” he said, regretfully, “for having added to your
unhappiness by my selfishness. I would have given my right arm rather
than that this should have happened. But,” he added, after a moment’s
pause, “I did not come here to say this; I came to bring you these, that
you might be saved any further unpleasantness,” and he handed her the
money and paper.
“Thank you,” she said, touched by this kindness.
She opened the paper, and read Mrs. Coolidge’s recommendation. It was
all that she could ask, or even desire. She counted the money, and found
that there were five pounds more than were actually due her. A painful
flush overspread her lovely face, as she separated them from the rest of
the money; then, folding it within the recommendation, she passed it
back to Wilbur, saying, briefly, but proudly:
“I cannot make use of these.”
“I understand you,” he said, humbly, “and I cannot blame you; but I
thought in this strange city you would need something of the kind.”
“I do need it—indeed, I do not know how I am to get along without
something of the kind; but, after what has occurred, I could not use
that,” Brownie said, with a weary sigh.
He bowed, but did not press her to take it; then, after a moment’s
thought, he asked:
“Miss Douglas, would you make use of one signed by my father?”
“Yes, and be very thankful for it,” she replied, her eye brightening.
“You shall have it; I will make it my first business to obtain a good
recommendation for you as soon as he returns, and send it to you.”
“Thank you; you are very kind,” and a tear sprang to her eye at his
thoughtfulness.
“When do you go?” he asked, as he was about turning away.
“As soon as I can pack my trunks and send for a cab.”
“Can I help you in any way?”
“If you will order the cab for me, it will save me a little trouble,”
she answered, smiling wearily.
“Anything that I can do will be a pleasure,” he replied, though an
expression of anguish swept over his handsome face as he bowed and left
her.
In two hours she was ready, her trunks strapped and in the lower hall,
waiting for the cab.
With a nearly breaking heart, Brownie sought Viola and Alma to bid them
farewell.
They were deeply distressed at the thought of parting with her,
protesting loudly against it.
Mrs. Coolidge and Isabel ignored her departure entirely, and did not
show themselves, much to Brownie’s relief.
As Wilbur, with clouded brow, and white, compressed lips, assisted her
into the cab, he asked:
“Where to, Miss Douglas?”
“To the ‘Washington’ for the present. It is a good hotel and has a
familiar sound, which seems quite homelike,” she answered, trying to
smile, but he saw that her lips quivered.
She felt inexpressibly desolate and forlorn.
“Then if I address a note to you there within a few days or a week, you
will get it,” he said.
“Yes.”
“May I call?”
“No, Mr. Coolidge, I prefer you should not; it would be wiser not to do
so at present,” Brownie answered, gently, but firmly.
She knew if she gave him permission, it might lead him to hope, and,
besides, it might cause her further trouble if his mother and sister
should discover that he was visiting her.
He colored, wrung her hand, and shut the door; then giving her direction
to the driver, she was whirled away.
Wilbur returned to the house very sore at heart. Life seemed to him very
dark just then; its brightness had all vanished with Brownie.
He went back to the library. No one was there.
He passed on upstairs to his mother’s rooms, and found both her and
Isabel within.
They had been watching his leave-taking of the despised governess, and
now turned upon him, with faces of scorn.
“Now that your inamorata has departed, I hope you will show some common
sense, Wilbur,” his mother said, sharply.
He took no notice of the remark, but handed her the recommendation, with
the money inclosed, in silence.
“What does this mean? Ah! she would take only what was due her, and you
did not give her the recommendation, after all,” she said, in tones of
satisfaction, as her quick eye ran over it.
“I did not give it to her?” cried her son, angrily. “Of course I gave it
to her; but the poor, insulted girl refused to take it; she refused to
obtain another situation upon your recommendation.”
“The upstart! I’d like to box her ears soundly for putting on such
airs!” exclaimed Isabel, spitefully.
“Upstart, indeed! I’ll warrant that there is better blood now in her
veins than ever flowed in ours. She has been born and bred a lady, which
is more than I can say of you. There is some mystery about her, I admit;
but, mark my words, the time will come when both of you will be glad to
cultivate her acquaintance, and when you will rue the day that you, led
on by your curiosity and covetousness, ever meddled with her treasures,
and drove her from your house by your abuse.”
Wilbur Coolidge spoke indignantly and at random, but in after months he
remembered his words, and wondered at the truth of his prophecy.
Before he had concluded there came a rap upon the door.
Isabel opened it.
A servant stood without bearing a silver salver, upon which lay a card.
“A gentleman to see Miss Douglas,” he said, bowing respectfully.
“A gentleman to see Miss Douglas!” repeated Mrs. Coolidge,
contemptuously, while Isabel pounced upon the card and read the name,
“Adrian Dredmond.”
The color flushed over her fair face in a scarlet flood.
“There is some mistake here,” she said, sharply, to her servant.
Then turning to her mother, she added:
“Mamma, it is Lord Dredmond.”
She had persisted in giving him this title ever since she had learned
that he was the grandson of an earl, although Wilbur had repeatedly told
her that he did not care to have it used until he came into his
property. He was very modest about it.
“Of course, there is a mistake,” returned Mrs. Coolidge. “You had better
pay more attention. The gentleman doubtless wishes to see Miss Isabel,”
she said, severely, to the servant.
“Isabel, you must go down and receive him yourself. Find out, if you
can, what he wants of her, and make yourself as agreeable as possible to
him,” Mrs. Coolidge remarked, running her eye critically over her
daughter, to see that everything was all right.
“It is time that minx was out of the way; she seems to have a strange
faculty for bewitching the gentlemen, without appearing to do so,”
muttered Isabel, as she swept from the room, smoothing out her distorted
face, and followed by her brother’s contemptuous glances.
Wilbur himself soon after arose and left.
A jealous feeling was beginning to creep into his own heart, and he
wondered what Adrian Dredmond could want of Brownie Douglas.