"I LOVE JESSIE BAIN WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL!"
Mrs. Varrick started back with a low cry.
"Is it you, Hubert?"
"Yes; but upon my honor, mother, you don't seem overglad to see me."
"I thought you were to have been gone a fortnight."
"I succeeded in getting the business attended to much more speedily than
you thought it could be done. I did not make any visits, as I was
anxious to get home. But, mother, how white and ill you look!" he added.
"I am quite well, but I have been suffering from a nervous headache,
Hubert," she answered.
"By the way," he said suddenly, "I did not forget to bring a few little
souvenirs home with me," and as he spoke he drew two small velvet cases
from his pocket, one of which he handed his mother, retaining the other
in his hand.
Opening it, Mrs. Varrick found that it contained a magnificent diamond
bracelet.
"That is to match, as near as possible, the beautiful bracelet you
already have, mother," he said, carelessly.
She reeled back as though he had struck her a sudden blow, and looked at
him with terror in her eyes.
"What is there in that other little velvet case?" she asked, as he made
no move to hand it to her.
"It is not for you, mother," he responded. "It is for Jessie."
He pressed the little spring and the lid of the purple velvet box flew
back, and there, lying on its shimmering satin bed, she beheld a
beautiful little turquois ring set with tiny diamonds.
"Jessie has never had a ring in all her life," he declared, "and it will
please me to be the one to present her with the first one that will ever
grace her little hand. Girl-like, she is fond of such trinkets. The
sparkle of the tiny diamonds will delight her as nothing else has done
in her whole life."
A discordant laugh broke from Mrs. Varrick's lips.
"Ay, the glitter of diamonds pleases her. How well you know the girl!"
she cried shrilly. "But for glittering diamonds she might have lived a
happy enough life of it. Will people ever learn the lesson that they can
not pick up girls from the depths of poverty and obscurity and
transplant then into elegant surroundings and expect good to come of
it?"
"This present is very inexpensive," declared Hubert. "Won't you please
ring for Jessie to come to us? I am anxious to see if it is the right
size. It will be fun to see her big blue eyes open and hear her exclaim
in dismay: 'Oh, Mr. Varrick, is it really for me?' Girls at her age are
enthusiastic, and their joy is genuine upon receiving any little token
of esteem."
Again Mrs. Varrick laughed that harsh, discordant laugh.
"The ring is very pretty, Hubert," she said ironically, "but Jessie Bain
would never thank you for so inexpensive a gift. That diamond bracelet
is much more to her fancy."
"Girls of her age might fancy diamond bracelets, but they would never
care to possess them, because they could not wear them, as they would be
entirely out of place."
For the third time that harsh, shrill laugh from Mrs. Varrick's lips
filled the room.
"I repeat, this bracelet would be more to her fancy," she added, grimly.
"If you will not ring for Jessie, I will do it myself," said Hubert,
good-humoredly; adding: "You are just a little bit jealous, mother, and
wish to keep me all to yourself, I imagine."
But ere he could reach the bell-rope she had swiftly followed him and
laid a detaining hand on his arm.
She had put off the telling of her story from moment to moment, but it
had to be told now.
"You need not take the trouble to ring that bell," she said, "for it
would be useless--quite useless."
"Why, what do you mean?" he asked, in unfeigned astonishment, thinking
that perhaps she meant to forbid him giving the girl the little ring;
and he grew nettled at that thought.
He said to himself that he was over one-and-twenty, and was entitled to
do as he pleased in such matters.
"Listen, Hubert; I have something to tell you, and you must hear me out.
Come and sit on this sofa beside me. I can tell you better then."
"What is the meaning of all this secrecy, mother?" he cried.
"To begin with," slowly began Mrs. Varrick, "Jessie Bain is no longer
under this roof."
He looked at her as though he did not fully take in the meaning of her
words.
"I will tell you the whole story, my son," she said; "but promise me
first that you will not interrupt me, no matter how much you may be
inclined to do so, and that you will hear without comment all that I
have to say."
"Do I understand you to say that Jessie Bain is not here?" he cried.
"Promise not to interrupt me and I will tell you all."
He bowed his head in acknowledgment, though he did not gratify her by
saying as much in so many words.
Slowly, in a clear, shrill voice, Mrs. Varrick began the story she had
so carefully rehearsed over and over again; but as the words fell from
her lips she could not trust herself to meet the clear, eagle glance her
son bent upon her.
In horror which no pen could fully describe, Hubert Varrick listened to
the story from his mother's lips. In all her life Mrs. Varrick never saw
such a face as her son turned upon her. It was fairly distorted, with
great patches of red here and there upon it.
He set his teeth so hard together that they cut through his lip; then he
raised his clinched hand and shook it in the air, crying in a voice of
bitter rage:
"If an angel from heaven cried out trumpet-tongued that little Jessie
Bain was guilty, I should not believe her-- I would say that it was
false. It is some plan, some deep-laid scheme to blight the life of
Jessie Bain and ruin my happiness--ay, ruin my happiness, I say--for I
love that girl with all my heart and soul! How dare they, fiends
incarnate, attack her in my absence? And so you, my fine lady-mother,
have turned her out into the street," he went on, in a rage that nothing
could subdue. "Now listen to what I have to say, and heed it well: The
day that has seen her turned from this roof shall witness my leaving it.
You should have trusted and shielded her, no matter how dark appearances
were against her. I am going to find Jessie Bain, and when I do I shall
ask her to marry me!"
There was a wild shriek from Mrs. Varrick's lips at this, but Hubert did
not heed it.
"I can not live without her! If ill has befallen my darling I will shoot
myself through the heart, and beg with my dying breath that they bury us
both in one grave!"