A SWORD THRUST IN HIS HEART.
A hopeless love must always evoke pity in a generous mind. Devereaux
could not help being touched when he found Roma installed as his
sister's guest, and comprehended that it was love for himself that had
brought her there.
Men, even the bravest and strongest, are pitiably susceptible to
woman's flattery. Roma's persistent love, faithful through all
the repulses it had received, was a subtle flattery that touched
Devereaux's heart, cruelly wounded by Liane's rejection, and made him
think better of himself again.
Roma brought all the batteries of her fascination to bear on her
recreant lover that first evening, and he submitted to be amused with
charming grace, that thrilled her with renewed hope.
Mrs. Carrington, too, lent her womanly aid to further the little
byplay she saw going on between the estranged lovers. She knew that
propinquity is a great thing in such a case, and believed that
a reconciliation was certain. Of course, she did not know that
Devereaux's heart belonged to Liane, or she would not have been so
confident.
Roma telegraphed for her maid the next morning, fully resolved to make
the most of her visit, and after breakfast, when she saw Devereaux
preparing to go out, in spite of her blandishments, she asked him to
call on her mother at the hotel, and tell her that she would be Mrs.
Carrington's guest during her short stay.
She was more than ever determined to marry the young millionaire now,
and thus make her position in life secure, even if by any untoward
accident she should be ousted from her place as the Clarkes' daughter
and heiress.
Devereaux promised to do as she asked, and sallied forth, in reality
tired of Roma's company, though too polite to show it.
About the middle of the day he called at Mrs. Clarke's hotel to convey
Roma's message, and was surprised to find her father there also.
They greeted him most cordially, and Mrs. Clarke exclaimed:
"Is it not tedious, waiting by the hour for a caller who never comes?"
"Do you mean your daughter?" he asked, hastening to deliver Roma's
message.
"Then she has not heard of my accident yet?" exclaimed the lady.
"No!" he replied, and with unwonted animation she hastened to pour out
the whole story of yesterday.
She did not spare herself in the least, frankly describing her pride
and hauteur.
"I will not deny that I was vexed and jealous, and hated her because
she had rivaled Roma for the beauty prize," she confessed. "I am
ashamed of it now, and bitterly repented after learning her angelic
sweetness and nobility of heart."
Devereaux's heart thrilled with joy at these generous praises of lovely
Liane, and he listened in eager silence to all Mrs. Clarke had to say,
glad, indeed, that she proposed to adopt the girl, but wondering much
if Roma would agree to the plan.
"So, then, it is Miss Lester you are awaiting?" he said, with a
quickened heart throb.
"Yes; and I think it most strange that she has not kept her promise to
come here early this morning. If I knew her address, I should have gone
long ago to her house, but, unfortunately I forgot to ask it," sighed
Mrs. Clarke, while her husband listened to everything with a glad,
eager face.
"I wrote you, Mr. Clarke, two days ago, sending you her address, which
I had myself just discovered," said Devereaux, looking at him.
"That is very strange. I did not receive it."
"Perhaps it had not been delivered when you left home."
"Perhaps so."
"And," pursued Devereaux, with a crimson flush mounting up to his brow
at thought of seeing the dearest of his heart again, "if I can serve
you in doing so, I will go and bring Miss Lester here to see you. It
may be her excessive modesty that keeps her away."
They fairly jumped at his offer, and he hurried away, most eager,
indeed, to do them this favor, glad in his heart of this grand
opportunity for poor Liane.
Mrs. Clarke looked at her husband, with a half sigh tempering her soft
smile.
She exclaimed:
"He is in love with that charming girl! Could you not see it? Alas, for
my poor Roma!"
"Roma scarcely deserves our sympathy in the matter. She lost him by
her own folly," Mr. Clarke replied impatiently, and the subject was
dropped. He did not care to discuss Roma with his heart full of his own
dear child.
Meanwhile Devereaux took a carriage to Liane's humble abode, full of a
joy he could not repress at thought of seeing Liane again.
But he sighed to himself:
"I shall feel guilty in her presence, because I was indirectly the
means of her losing Malcolm Dean! Ah, had she but loved me instead,
what happiness would be mine instead of this aching loneliness of
heart."
When he alighted at Mrs. Brinkley's door and rang the bell, the small
family, excepting a servant, was out, and a neat maid answered the ring.
"Miss Lester?" with a comprehensive grin. "Oh, sir, she beant here! She
runned away last night with her beau!" she exclaimed.
It was like a sword thrust quivering in his heart, those sudden words.
He grew pale, and stared at her, muttering:
"Impossible!"
"But, sir, it's true as gospel! And her poor granny is in a fine taking
over it, too. She says as how Liane was cruel to go off so, and leave
her in poverty to end her days in the poorhouse!"
"Where is the old woman? I should like to see her," he said dismally,
hoping for some light.
"She's out, sir, looking for the girl, swearing to kill the man as
persuaded her off."
"And the family?"
"All out, sir. Mrs. Brinkley went to market, and her sister Lizzie to
the store, where she and Liane worked."
Devereaux pressed a dollar into the good-natured servant's hand, and
stumbled back to the carriage, almost blind with pain from this sudden
stroke of fate.
The servant looked after him with mingled wonder, admiration, and
gratitude, and describing him afterward to the family, exclaimed:
"The prettiest man I ever saw in my life--coal-black eyes and hair,
straight nose, dimple in his chin, slim, white hands, diamond ring,
good clothes, fit to kill! He must 'ave been another of Liane's beaus,
for, when I told him she had eloped, he turned white as a corpse, and
kind of staggered, like I had hit him in the face. But he didn't forget
his company manners, for he bowed like a prince and put a whole silver
dollar in my hand as he went back to his carriage."
"That sounds like Jesse Devereaux, Miss Clarke's lover!" cried Sophie
Nutter, and Mrs. Brinkley said quickly:
"Well, Liane knew that man, and was in love with him, but he snubbed
her with the proudest bow I ever saw, one day when we passed by his
grand home on Commonwealth Avenue."
"So he lives on Commonwealth Avenue!" remarked Carlos Cisneros, with
a flash of his somber, black eyes. He was thinking of the house he
had followed Roma's carriage to yesterday--the palatial mansion on
Commonwealth Avenue.
"So she is there at my rival's house, and she dares to think I will
let her marry him! And I have two scores to settle with the handsome
Devereaux!" he thought.
Devereaux could scarcely believe the terrible news.
He hoped there might be some mistake, and he determined to go to the
store and see if she might not be there.
But there were no pansy-blue eyes smiling over the glove counter, but a
pair of sparkling black ones, whose owner smiled.
"Miss Lester? No; she is not here to-day. I cannot tell you anything
about her; but there's her friend, Miss White, you can ask
her--Lizzie!"
Lizzie White hurried forward, but she could tell him no more than he
had already heard.
She wondered whom the handsome stranger could be, but she was too timid
to ask his name, only she thought within herself that he must surely be
in love with Liane, he was so pale and disturbed looking.
It seemed to her that he was most loath to accept the theory that the
girl had gone away with a lover.
"Is there no possibility she has run away alone to escape her
grandmother's cruelty?" he insisted.
Lizzie said she could not tell, she had never heard Liane mention any
man's name, but she had been more confidential with her mother.
"Could you--would you--tell me her lover's name?" he pleaded; but
Lizzie answered that it would not be right to betray her friend's
confidence.
"He was a rich young man, and not likely to marry my poor friend," she
added sorrowfully, and after that admission he could extract no more
from Lizzie.
With a sad heart he returned to the Clarkes' with his ill news.
Mr. Clarke was terribly excited:
"I will not believe she has gone with any man! I should sooner believe
that that old hag has made way with the girl! Give me the address,
Devereaux, and I will go and wring the truth from her black heart,
if you will stay and cheer my wife while I am gone!" he exclaimed,
springing up in passionate excitement.