NEW EAGLE SERIES NO. 1118
HER EVIL
GENIUS
[Illustration]
_By_ Adelaide Stirling
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Carefully Selected Love Stories
_Note the Authors!_
There is such a profusion of good books in this list, that it is an
impossibility to urge you to select any particular title or author’s
work. All that we can say is that any line that contains the complete
works of Mrs. Georgie Sheldon, Charles Garvice, Mrs. Harriet Lewis,
May Agnes Fleming, Wenona Gilman, Mrs. Alex McVeigh Miller, and other
writers of the same type, is worthy of your attention, especially when
the price has been set at 15 cents the volume.
These books range from 256 to 320 pages. They are printed from good
type, and are readable from start to finish.
If you are looking for clean-cut, honest value, then we state most
emphatically that you will find it in this line.
_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_
1--Queen Bess By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
2--Ruby’s Reward By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
7--Two Keys By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
9--The Virginia Heiress By May Agnes Fleming
12--Edrie’s Legacy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
17--Leslie’s Loyalty By Charles Garvice
(His Love So True)
22--Elaine By Charles Garvice
24--A Wasted Love By Charles Garvice
(On Love’s Altar)
41--Her Heart’s Desire By Charles Garvice
(An Innocent Girl)
44--That Dowdy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
50--Her Ransom By Charles Garvice
(Paid For)
55--Thrice Wedded By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
66--Witch Hazel By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
70--Sydney By Charles Garvice
(A Wilful Young Woman)
73--The Marquis By Charles Garvice
77--Tina By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
79--Out of the Past By Charles Garvice
(Marjorie)
84--Imogene By Charles Garvice
(Dumaresq’s Temptation)
85--Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold By Charles Garvice
88--Virgie’s Inheritance By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
95--A Wilful Maid By Charles Garvice
(Philippa)
98--Claire By Charles Garvice
(The Mistress of Court Regna)
99--Audrey’s Recompense By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
102--Sweet Cymbeline By Charles Garvice
(Bellmaire)
109--Signa’s Sweetheart By Charles Garvice
(Lord Delamere’s Bride)
111--Faithful Shirley By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
117--She Loved Him By Charles Garvice
119--’Twixt Smile and Tear By Charles Garvice
(Dulcie)
122--Grazia’s Mistake By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
130--A Passion Flower By Charles Garvice
(Madge)
133--Max By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
136--The Unseen Bridegroom By May Agnes Fleming
138--A Fatal Wooing By Laura Jean Libbey
141--Lady Evelyn By May Agnes Fleming
144--Dorothy’s Jewels By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
146--Magdalen’s Vow By May Agnes Fleming
151--The Heiress of Glen Gower By May Agnes Fleming
155--Nameless Dell By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
157--Who Wins By May Agnes Fleming
166--The Masked Bridal By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
168--Thrice Lost, Thrice Won By May Agnes Fleming
174--His Guardian Angel By Charles Garvice
177--A True Aristocrat By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
181--The Baronet’s Bride By May Agnes Fleming
188--Dorothy Arnold’s Escape By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
199--Geoffrey’s Victory By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
203--Only One Love By Charles Garvice
210--Wild Oats By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
213--The Heiress of Egremont By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
215--Only a Girl’s Love By Charles Garvice
219--Lost: A Pearle By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
222--The Lily of Mordaunt By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
223--Leola Dale’s Fortune By Charles Garvice
231--The Earl’s Heir By Charles Garvice
(Lady Norah)
233--Nora By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
236--Her Humble Lover By Charles Garvice
(The Usurper; or, The Gipsy Peer)
242--A Wounded Heart By Charles Garvice
(Sweet as a Rose)
244--A Hoiden’s Conquest By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
250--A Woman’s Soul By Charles Garvice
(Doris; or, Behind the Footlights)
255--The Little Marplot By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
257--A Martyred Love By Charles Garvice
(Iris; or, Under the Shadows)
266--The Welfleet Mystery By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
267--Jeanne By Charles Garvice
(Barriers Between)
268--Olivia; or, It Was for Her Sake By Charles Garvice
272--So Fair, So False By Charles Garvice
(The Beauty of the Season)
276--So Nearly Lost By Charles Garvice
(The Springtime of Love)
277--Brownie’s Triumph By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
280--Love’s Dilemma By Charles Garvice
(For an Earldom)
282--The Forsaken Bride By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
283--My Lady Pride By Charles Garvice
(Floris)
287--The Lady of Darracourt By Charles Garvice
288--Sibyl’s Influence By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
291--A Mysterious Wedding Ring By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
292--For Her Only By Charles Garvice
(Diana)
296--The Heir of Vering By Charles Garvice
299--Little Miss Whirlwind By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
300--The Spider and the Fly By Charles Garvice
(Violet)
303--The Queen of the Isle By May Agnes Fleming
304--Stanch as a Woman By Charles Garvice
(A Maiden’s Sacrifice)
305--Led by Love By Charles Garvice
Sequel to “Stanch as a Woman”
309--The Heiress of Castle Cliffs By May Agnes Fleming
312--Woven on Fate’s Loom, and The Snowdrift By Charles Garvice
315--The Dark Secret By May Agnes Fleming
317--Ione By Laura Jean Libbey
(Adrien Le Roy)
318--Stanch of Heart By Charles Garvice
322--Mildred By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
326--Parted by Fate By Laura Jean Libbey
327--He Loves Me By Charles Garvice
328--He Loves Me Not By Charles Garvice
330--Aikenside By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
333--Stella’s Fortune By Charles Garvice
(The Sculptor’s Wooing)
334--Miss McDonald By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
339--His Heart’s Queen By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
340--Bad Hugh. Vol. I. By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
341--Bad Hugh. Vol. II. By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
344--Tresillian Court By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
345--The Scorned Wife By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
346--Guy Tresillian’s Fate By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
347--The Eyes of Love By Charles Garvice
348--The Hearts of Youth By Charles Garvice
351--The Churchyard Betrothal By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
352--Family Pride. Vol. I. By Mary J. Holmes
353--Family Pride. Vol. II. By Mary J. Holmes
354--A Love Comedy By Charles Garvice
360--The Ashes of Love By Charles Garvice
361--A Heart Triumphant By Charles Garvice
367--The Pride of Her Life By Charles Garvice
368--Won By Love’s Valor By Charles Garvice
372--A Girl in a Thousand By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
373--A Thorn Among Roses By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
Sequel to “A Girl in a Thousand”
380--Her Double Life By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
381--The Sunshine of Love By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
Sequel to “Her Double Life”
382--Mona By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
391--Marguerite’s Heritage By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
399--Betsey’s Transformation By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
407--Esther, the Fright By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
415--Trixy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
440--Edna’s Secret Marriage By Charles Garvice
449--The Bailiff’s Scheme By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
450--Rosamond’s Love By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
Sequel to “The Bailiff’s Scheme”
451--Helen’s Victory By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
456--A Vixen’s Treachery By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
457--Adrift in the World By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
Sequel to “A Vixen’s Treachery”
458--When Love Meets Love By Charles Garvice
464--The Old Life’s Shadows By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
465--Outside Her Eden By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
Sequel to “The Old Life’s Shadows”
474--The Belle of the Season By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
475--Love Before Pride By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
Sequel to “The Belle of the Season”
481--Wedded, Yet No Wife By May Agnes Fleming
489--Lucy Harding By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
495--Norine’s Revenge By May Agnes Fleming
511--The Golden Key By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
512--A Heritage of Love By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
Sequel to “The Golden Key”
519--The Magic Cameo By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
520--The Heatherford Fortune By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
Sequel to “The Magic Cameo”
525--Sweet Kitty Clover By Laura Jean Libbey
531--Better Than Life By Charles Garvice
534--Lotta, the Cloak Model By Laura Jean Libbey
542--Once in a Life By Charles Garvice
543--The Veiled Bride By Laura Jean Libbey
548--’Twas Love’s Fault By Charles Garvice
551--Pity--Not Love By Laura Jean Libbey
553--Queen Kate By Charles Garvice
554--Step by Step By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
557--In Cupid’s Chains By Charles Garvice
630--The Verdict of the Heart By Charles Garvice
635--A Coronet of Shame By Charles Garvice
640--A Girl of Spirit By Charles Garvice
645--A Jest of Fate By Charles Garvice
648--Gertrude Elliott’s Crucible By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
650--Diana’s Destiny By Charles Garvice
655--Linked by Fate By Charles Garvice
663--Creatures of Destiny By Charles Garvice
671--When Love Is Young By Charles Garvice
676--My Lady Beth By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
679--Gold in the Gutter By Charles Garvice
712--Love and a Lie By Charles Garvice
721--A Girl from the South By Charles Garvice
730--John Hungerford’s Redemption By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
741--The Fatal Ruby By Charles Garvice
749--The Heart of a Maid By Charles Garvice
758--The Woman in It By Charles Garvice
774--Love in a Snare By Charles Garvice
775--My Love Kitty By Charles Garvice
776--That Strange Girl By Charles Garvice
777--Nellie By Charles Garvice
778--Miss Estcourt; or Olive By Charles Garvice
818--The Girl Who Was True By Charles Garvice
826--The Irony of Love By Charles Garvice
896--A Terrible Secret By May Agnes Fleming
897--When To-morrow Came By May Agnes Fleming
904--A Mad Marriage By May Agnes Fleming
905--A Woman Without Mercy By May Agnes Fleming
912--One Night’s Mystery By May Agnes Fleming
913--The Cost of a Lie By May Agnes Fleming
920--Silent and True By May Agnes Fleming
921--A Treasure Lost By May Agnes Fleming
925--Forrest House By Mary J. Holmes
926--He Loved Her Once By Mary J. Holmes
930--Kate Danton By May Agnes Fleming
931--Proud as a Queen By May Agnes Fleming
935--Queenie Hetherton By Mary J. Holmes
936--Mightier Than Pride By Mary J. Holmes
940--The Heir of Charlton By May Agnes Fleming
941--While Love Stood Waiting By May Agnes Fleming
945--Gretchen By Mary J. Holmes
946--Beauty That Faded By Mary J. Holmes
950--Carried by Storm By May Agnes Fleming
951--Love’s Dazzling Glitter By May Agnes Fleming
954--Marguerite By Mary J. Holmes
955--When Love Spurs Onward By Mary J. Holmes
960--Lost for a Woman By May Agnes Fleming
961--His to Love or Hate By May Agnes Fleming
964--Paul Ralston’s First Love By Mary J. Holmes
965--Where Love’s Shadows Lie Deep By Mary J. Holmes
968--The Tracy Diamonds By Mary J. Holmes
969--She Loved Another By Mary J. Holmes
972--The Cromptons By Mary J. Holmes
973--Her Husband Was a Scamp By Mary J. Holmes
975--The Merivale Banks By Mary J. Holmes
978--The One Girl in the World By Charles Garvice
979--His Priceless Jewel By Charles Garvice
982--The Millionaire’s Daughter and Other Stories By Charles Garvice
983--Doctor Hathern’s Daughters By Mary J. Holmes
984--The Colonel’s Bride By Mary J. Holmes
988--Her Ladyship’s Diamonds, and Other Stories By Charles Garvice
998--Sharing Her Crime By May Agnes Fleming
999--The Heiress of Sunset Hall By May Agnes Fleming
1004--Maude Percy’s Secret By May Agnes Fleming
1005--The Adopted Daughter By May Agnes Fleming
1010--The Sisters of Torwood By May Agnes Fleming
1015--A Changed Heart By May Agnes Fleming
1016--Enchanted By May Agnes Fleming
1025--A Wife’s Tragedy By May Agnes Fleming
1026--Brought to Reckoning By May Agnes Fleming
1027--A Madcap Sweetheart By Emma Garrison Jones
1028--An Unhappy Bargain By Effie Adelaide Rowlands
1029--Only a Working Girl By Geraldine Fleming
1030--The Unbidden Guest By Mrs. Alex McVeigh Miller
1031--The Man and His Millions By Ida Reade Allen
1032--Mabel’s Sacrifice By Charlotte M. Stanley
1033--Was He Worth It? By Geraldine Fleming
1034--Her Two Suitors By Wenona Gilman
1035--Edith Percival By May Agnes Fleming
1036--Caught in the Snare By May Agnes Fleming
1037--A Love Concealed By Emma Garrison Jones
1038--The Price of Happiness By Mrs. Alex McVeigh Miller
1039--The Lucky Man By Geraldine Fleming
1040--A Forced Promise By Ida Reade Allen
1041--The Crime of Love By Barbara Howard
1042--The Bride’s Opals By Emma Garrison Jones
1043--Love That Was Cursed By Geraldine Fleming
HER EVIL GENIUS;
OR,
Within Love’s Call
BY
ADELAIDE STIRLING
Author of “A Forgotten Love,” “Love and Spite,”
“A Sacrifice to Love,” etc.
[Illustration]
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York
Copyright, 1899
By STREET & SMITH
Her Evil Genius
(Printed in the United States of America)
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.
HER EVIL GENIUS.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. THE CONVENT PRELUDE.
CHAPTER II. A FRIENDLESS FUGITIVE.
CHAPTER III. THE WHEELS OF FATE.
CHAPTER IV. THE LOVELY ANDRIA.
CHAPTER V. HER EVIL GENIUS.
CHAPTER VI. LORD ERCELDONNE MARKS THE KING.
CHAPTER VII. FIRST BLOOD TO ERCELDONNE.
CHAPTER VIII. A WOMAN’S DIARY.
CHAPTER IX. ON BOARD THE YACHT.
CHAPTER X. THE HOUSE BY THE SEA.
CHAPTER XI. TWO WARNINGS.
CHAPTER XII. THE HAUNTING EYES.
CHAPTER XIII. THE PATTERING FOOTSTEPS.
CHAPTER XIV. THE EYES OUTSIDE THE JALOUSY.
CHAPTER XV. A STRANGE POWER.
CHAPTER XVI. IN THE WOODS OF PARADISE.
CHAPTER XVII. OLD SINS AWAKENED.
CHAPTER XVIII. DOUBTING THOMAS.
CHAPTER XIX. TRUSTED TOO LATE.
CHAPTER XX. AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL.
CHAPTER XXI. STRANGERS.
CHAPTER XXII. BEHIND THE CYPRESS BOUGHS.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE CRY IN THE STARLIGHT.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE MADMAN.
CHAPTER XXV. THE LAUGH IN THE DARK.
CHAPTER XXVI. A SEALED PACKET.
CHAPTER XXVII. THE HAND OF FATE.
CHAPTER XXVIII. A MURDER IN THE DARK.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE DEATH-TRAP.
CHAPTER XXX. MOTHER FELICITAS.
CHAPTER XXXI. HOPELESS AND HELPLESS.
CHAPTER XXXII. AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH.
CHAPTER XXXIII. A DREAM OF VENGEANCE.
CHAPTER XXXIV. A LITTLE GOLD.
CHAPTER XXXV. THE BEGINNING OF THE JUDGMENT.
CHAPTER XXXVI. “A BOY!”
CHAPTER XXXVII. THE DARK HOUSE.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. DREAMS.
CHAPTER XXXIX. TAKEN UNAWARES.
CHAPTER XL. THE EXPIATION OF MOTHER FELICITAS.
CHAPTER I.
THE CONVENT PRELUDE.
The summer holidays had begun and the great convent school was
deserted, all its pupils gone but two, who were in the alcove belonging
to the elder of them, and, as if that breakage of rule were not enough,
were seated on the small white bed which was counted a crime to rumple.
The elder girl was eighteen, and after to-day convent rules would
concern her no more, for that very afternoon she was going out into
“the world” to earn her own living as a governess. She was wild
with excitement, and would have been enraptured with the foretaste
of liberty had it not been for the child who clung to her, sick and
exhausted with stormy crying.
She looked down on her pityingly, and the reverend mother could have
told you Andria Heathcote was not given to compassion. Her red-brown
hair grew too strongly on her forehead for that; her full rose lips
were too heavy. Yet something in the very strangeness of the girl who
clutched her had caught at her hard young heart.
For Beryl Corselas was only a child, and young for her years at
that. It seemed to Andria that the sins of eleven years old were too
seriously taken when they were considered crimes, and yet her goblin
ways were enough to provoke a saint--or Sister Felicitas!
“Beryl, look here,” repeated Andria; “don’t cry any more. I’ll write to
you. I’m not going very far away.”
The child lifted her face from the girl’s shoulder. It was a curious
face, with something almost vacant about it, yet what the lack was
no one could quite say. She had extraordinary eyes, strangely and
uncannily beautiful, so light a brown as to be almost yellow, tawny
golden under the heavy eyelashes, that were black as ink. The warm
whiteness of her cheeks was blurred with crying, paled with real
despair, and the startling crimson of the childish lips had been hard
bitten to check the sobs that might be heard.
She pushed away the long cloud of straight hair that was not black nor
brown, but dusky, a cloud of darkness with no color to be named, from
her face, and spoke with sullen, unchildlike contempt.
“You won’t write!” Her eyes were like burned-out coals. “You’ll mean
to, but you won’t. You’re always trying to save other people’s feelings
outside, but inside you never care. You’ll forget!”
“I’ll try not to,” said Andria, with a sudden pang. Was she really what
Beryl said? Did her hatred of giving pain really make her more cruel in
the end? She kissed the wet cheek.
“If I do forget, if I am like that, will you promise me something?
Remember that I don’t mean to forget, and that I don’t, really. Think
to yourself it’s just my way, and that some day you’ll see me again.
Will you try, Beryl?”
“It’s no use my trying anything without you--in the house with Sister
Felicitas!”
“Keep out of her way, then! Why are you always getting into her black
books?”
“Because she hates me. I’m never myself with her.”
“You are with Mother Benedicta!”
“I might as well be comfortable with the statue in the chapel! I see
about as much of her.”
She clung suddenly to the arm that enwrapped her.
“Oh, it’s you I want--you!” she gasped. “If I’m going to be good it
will be for you. Who else do I like? Just you and animals--and I
haven’t any of them except my rabbits. And I hate, hate, hate Sister
Felicitas!”
A shadow, tall, slight, and angular, fell on them.
Andria looked up with a start, since convent tradition was still
strong in her, and she was breaking rules openly. Sister Felicitas
stood in the doorway, black against the sunlit passage.
“You’ve no right to be here, Beryl Corselas,” her voice seemed to float
out into the shaded whiteness of the alcove, calm and cool as frost.
“Go away and do your weeding. Your garden is not a pretty sight.”
Andria felt the quick shudder in the child’s body.
“Please, sister,” she said, “let me stay. Andria is going away.”
“I have nothing to do with that. But while I am in charge of the
kitchen-garden you must do your share there. Go at once,” she said very
softly, but the downcast eyes were angry. Andria Heathcote could not
be reprimanded, and Sister Felicitas longed to do it; she was always
making that hateful child rebel against lawful authority. But to-morrow
she would be gone.
“A few minutes more or less cannot matter to you. Go to your weeding,”
she said scornfully.
Beryl Corselas sat up, her slim, childish body quivering.
“I won’t go!” her voice low and passionate. “You know there are no
weeds for me to dig up. I hate gardens. I wish everything in yours
would die, or else choke you when you ate it--nasty, nasty old onions!”
she cried, in a transport of temper.
“Beryl!” Even Andria, who hated Sister Felicitas, was aghast.
“You can do your weeding or not, that is for you to say,” said Sister
Felicitas, whose face was quite untroubled, but she was trilling her
fingers against her black habit. “But it is for me to say what will
happen to you if you disobey.”
“I don’t care what you do to me!”
“No?” Andria knew that far-off sound in Sister Felicitas’ voice; there
was not a girl in the convent whose nerves did not twitch when she
heard it. “Then I suppose I can send those rabbits of yours to market!
It will be time for rabbit-soup soon.”
“No, no, no!” The child’s voice was dreadful in its wild scream of
supplication. If there had been any one in the empty corridor they
must have hurried to the sound of it.
“Not my bunnies. I love them. They’re truly people. You--you couldn’t
be so wicked!”
“If you can talk such nonsense about your rabbits, the sooner they are
gone the better,” said Sister Felicitas icily. “No--get up, child! You
will tear my habit.”
For Beryl Corselas was on the floor, clutching at the immaculate black
folds of the sister’s robe.
“You won’t take them away--say you won’t, sister!” She paid no
attention to the hand that tried to disengage hers. “I’ll do anything,
I’ll work in the garden, I’ll say I’m sorry----” The miserable voice
made a listener start, but Sister Felicitas only drew her skirts away
deftly.
“That you will be obliged to do,” she said.
“I’ll beg your pardon now,” sobbed Beryl, “only please don’t send my
rabbits to market! I’ll go and weed--I truly will.”
“You make an idol of senseless things. You will be better without
them.” In “the world” the tone would have been called cruel.
The child jumped to her feet, her wild, dusky hair streaming, her face
white and furious.
“If you take them away I’ll kill you!” she cried out, shaking and
gasping. “I hate you! You make me wicked, and then punish me. I----”
She stopped as if something had turned her to stone.
In the doorway stood the reverend mother. Mother Benedicta, who had
never been known to visit an alcove, who was high above the girls and
their rulers, was in front of her, a gracious, stately figure in her
black habit and white bands. There was a curious look on her beautiful,
placid face, enough to stop the tongue even of Beryl Corselas in a
temper. Yet she was not looking at the child, but at Sister Felicitas.
“I think breaking rules and sorrow at Andria’s going has made some one
a little hysterical this morning! Is that it, Beryl? Come to me, my
child;” and she put an arm round the sinner, who stood petrified, as if
at the sight of a saint from heaven. Mother Benedicta’s cool fingers
felt the hot throbbing of the child’s lax hands, and her face grew
sterner.
“You are sorry for your rudeness to the good sister, is it not so,
Beryl? Yes!” at the dumb nod that was a lie of despair. “I will see to
the child, then, sister. I know you are busy. Sister Ignatia is waiting
for you. She needs your help.”
Sister Felicitas’ face grew white.
“Yes, reverend mother,” she returned quietly, but her face was not
quiet as she left the alcove. To have Andria Heathcote incite that
hideous child to mutiny was bad enough, but to have Mother Benedicta
set aside her authority was worse. And there had been that in the face
of the reverend mother that told Sister Felicitas that even rancorous
hatred must go softly.
“Reverend mother, my rabbits!” gasped the culprit, as the sister’s
steps died away. “You won’t let her take them?”
“It was not meant, Beryl! The good sister thought to touch your heart;
that is a hard little heart, is it not?” she said, smiling. “But run
away now and wash your face. Then you can go to my room and wait there
quietly till Andria and I come to you. I will ask Sister Felicitas to
let her onions wait for to-day.”
But there was no smile on her face as the child slipped away, radiant
with gratitude.
“It was a pity you had her here, Andria!” she said. “But it is the
holidays, after all--only it provokes Sister Felicitas, who is always
so conscientious.”
Andria Heathcote was brave enough, but, as a child had been quick to
see, she was too apt to let things go, to put a good face on ugly
matters. Yet now that curious politeness of hers left her.
“You heard, reverend mother,” she said quickly. “That goes on all day
long. The child is growing sullen and strange.”
“Do you mean that, Andria?” Mother Benedicta was not apt to talk so
freely, but Andria was going away.
“Yes, reverend mother! I knew you did not know. And it is
true”--flushing at her own boldness--“that the sister dislikes Beryl.”
Mother Benedicta sighed.
“The child is difficult, they tell me, and incorrigibly idle;” but she
said it chiefly to hear the answer.
“She can speak Spanish, and she works hard at that, though no one knows
but Sister De Sales. School is bad for her; the girls bully her. Could
you not send her home sometimes, dear mother?”
“She has no home; did you not know? She has been here since she was a
baby. We do not even know who she is.” For once the Mother Superior had
forgotten herself.
“Sister Felicitas knows,” said Andria quietly.
“What! Why do you say that?”
“Because”--once launched, Andria was floating well--“I heard her tell
the child that she came by her mad temper honestly--was her mother over
again.”
Mother Benedicta stood dumb.
She had heard more than she liked of Sister Felicitas’ methods this
morning, but this passed all bearing.
“You must be mistaken,” she said, for the honor of the convent, but
Andria saw her breathing quicken. “But I have been wrong. After this I
will see more of the child. I promise you that much.”
To think of Sister Felicitas having known all this time the parentage
of Beryl Corselas, which had been the mystery of the quiet convent
lives, was too much even for her charity. It seemed but yesterday since
a woman, wild, despairing, with the hand of death already on her, had
brought the child to the convent. She had been told that no baby of
three years could be taken, and had sunk into the nearest chair as if
her last hope were gone.
Mother Benedicta had pitied her, seeing her so ill. (Afterward she had
altered her mind about the illness; it might easily have been furious
disappointment that had sapped her strange visitor’s strength.) She
left the room to tell a lay sister to bring wine and food, but, though
she was absent only a minute, when she returned the woman was gone. The
window was open on the garden, and in the room sat a pale, yellow-eyed
child, in exquisite clothing that was marked “Beryl Corselas.”
That was all. Never from that day to this had they been able to find
out anything more, and only that the convent charter provided for
certain charity pupils could the rules have been stretched to keep the
waif.
Yet kept she was, and now a curious thrill made the superior tremble.
Yet it was impossible. It had been six months before Sister Felicitas
joined the community, and the woman who had flung the child on their
charity had been pink-cheeked, golden-haired. Sister Felicitas was pale
and dark. And still the Mother Superior---- She forced herself to speak.
“I do not know what is to become of the child,” she said. “As you say,
she is very strange. I never hear any good of her.”
“There is good in her. But Sister Felicitas has a repulsion for the
child. You can see it.”
“I hope not,” said the good woman; but her own thoughts frightened her.
“You had better write to her, Andria. I will see she gets your letters.”
She had quite forgotten the reason that had brought her to Andria
Heathcote’s alcove in this sudden suspicion that had sprung up. She
looked unseeingly at the girl who had spoken out against all her
secretive nature. Yet Andria’s was not an ordinary face, and worth the
watching.
Cleverness and self-reliance were written on the forehead, from which
the hair was brushed back convent fashion; cleverness again in the
wide eyebrows; perfect bravery was in the full-lipped mouth, and
dogged patience in the clean chin; but the warm blue eyes had a veiled
something in them that told of reluctance to speak out, of a temper
that would hold out a right hand to an enemy and stab effectually with
the left. Not from treachery, but because things were more easily done
in that manner.
Mother Benedicta had meant to speak of these things, but she turned
away with only one sentence as she signed to the girl to follow her.
“You will have to fight your own battles, Andria,” she said, almost
absently. “Do it well and openly, as you fought Beryl’s to-day. And
do not forget that this convent life has been but the prelude to your
warfare.”
Andria bowed her head for the blessing that followed. She thought the
reverend mother looked strangely old and worn to-day.