AN INTRODUCTION.
The three young ladies looked up, to see Mr. Lyle enter the room,
accompanied by a tall, finely-formed, dark-complexioned man, with deep
dark eyes, and black hair and full black beard, both lightly streaked
with silver, which, together with a slight stoop, gave him the
appearance of being much older than he really was.
Mr. Lyle bowed to the young ladies, and then, taking his companion up to
Emma Cavendish, he said, with old-fashioned formality:
"Miss Cavendish, permit me to present to you my friend Mr. Brent, of San
Francisco."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Brent," said the young lady, with a graceful
bend of her fair head.
But in an instant the Californian seemed to have lost his
self-possession.
He stared for a moment almost rudely at the young lady: he turned red
and pale, drew a long breath; then, with an effort, recovered himself
and bowed deeply.
Miss Cavendish was surprised; but she was too polite and self-possessed
to let her surprise appear. She mentally ascribed the disturbance of her
visitor to some passing cause.
Mr. Lyle, who had not noticed his companion's agitation, now presented
him to Laura Lytton and to Electra Coroni.
To Laura he bowed gravely and calmly.
But when he met the wild eyes of Electra he started violently and
exclaimed:
"Sal's--" then stopped abruptly, bowed and took the chair that his
friend placed for him.
He sat in perfect silence, while Emma Cavendish, pitying, without
understanding, his awkwardness, tried to make conversation by
introducing the subject of California and the gold mines.
But Victor Hartman replied with an effort, and frequently and furtively
looked at Emma, and looked at Electra, and then put his hand to his head
in a perplexed manner.
At length his embarrassment became obvious even to unobservant Mr. Lyle,
who longed for an opportunity of asking him what the matter was.
But before that opportunity came there was another ring at the street
door-bell, followed by the entrance of Dr. Jones and Alden Lytton.
The last-comers greeted the young ladies and Mr. Lyle, and acknowledged
the presence of the stranger with a distant bow.
But then Mr. Lyle arose and asked permission to introduce his friend Mr.
Brent, of California.
And Dr. Jones and Mr. Lytton shook hands with the Californian and
welcomed him to Virginia.
Then Alden Lytton, who had some dim dreams of going to California to
commence life, with the idea of one day becoming Chief Justice of the
State, began to draw the stranger out on the subject.
Victor Hartman, the unknown and unsuspected benefactor, delighted to
make the acquaintance of "his boy," and, to learn all his half-formed
wishes and purposes, talked freely and enthusiastically of the Gold
State and its resources and prospects.
"If all that I have heard about the condition of society out there be
true, however, it must be a much better place for farmers and mechanics,
tradesmen and laborers, than for professional men."
"What have you heard, then, of the condition of society out there?"
inquired Victor.
"Well, I have heard that the climate is so healthy that the well who go
there never get sick, and the sick who go there get well without the
doctor's help. And, furthermore, that all disputes are settled by the
fists, the bowie-knife, or the revolver, without the help of lawyer,
judge or jury! So, you see, if all that is told of it is true, it is a
bad place for lawyers and doctors."
"'If all that is told of it is true?' There is not a word of it true! It
is all an unpardonable fabrication," said Victor Hartman, so indignantly
and solemnly that Alden burst out laughing as he answered:
"Oh, of course I know it is an exaggeration! I did think of trying my
fortune in the Gold State; but upon reflection I have decided to devote
my poor talents to my mother state, Virginia. And not until she
practically disowns me will I desert her."
"Well said, my dear bo--I mean Mr. Lytton!" assented the Californian.
He had begun heartily, but ended by correcting himself with some
embarrassment.
Alden looked up for an instant, a little surprised by his disturbance;
but ascribed it to the awkwardness of a man long debarred from ladies'
society, as this miner seemed to have been.
Gradually Victor Hartman recovered his composure and talked
intelligently and fluently upon the subject of gold mining, Chinese
emigration, and so forth.
Only when he would chance to meet the full gaze of Electra's "wild
eyes," or catch the tones of Emma's mellifluous voice, then, indeed, he
would show signs of disturbance. He would look or listen, and put his
hand to his forehead with an expression of painful perplexity.
At ten o'clock the gentlemen arose to bid the young ladies good-night.
It was then arranged that the whole party should visit the University
the next day and go through all the buildings on a tour of inspection.
When the visitors had gone, Electra suddenly inquired:
"Well, what do you think of the Californian?"
"I think him very handsome," said Laura, "but decidedly the most awkward
man I ever saw in all the days of my life. Except in the matter of his
awkwardness he seems to be a gentleman."
"Oh, that is nothing! One of the most distinguished men I ever met in my
father's house--a gentleman by birth, education and position, a
statesman of world-wide renown--was unquestionably the most awkward
human being I ever saw in my life. He knew very well how to manage men
and nations, but he never knew what to do with his feet and hands: he
kept shuffling them about in the most nervous and distracting manner,"
said Emma Cavendish, in behalf of the stranger.
"Somehow or other that man's face haunts me like a ghost," mused
Electra, dreamily.
"So it does me," quickly spoke Emma. "I feel sure that I have met those
sad, wistful dark eyes _somewhere_ before."
"I'll tell you both what. Whether you have ever met him before or not,
he _thinks_ he has seen you. He seemed to me to be trying to recollect
_where_ all the evening," said Laura Lytton, with her air of
positiveness.
"Then that might account for his awkwardness and embarrassment," added
Emma.
"But he is certainly very handsome," concluded Electra, as she took her
candle to retire.
Meanwhile the four gentlemen walked down the street together to a
corner, where they bade each other good-night and separated--Dr. Jones
and Alden Lytton to walk out to the University, and Mr. Lyle and Victor
Hartman to go to their hotel.
"What on earth was the matter with you, Victor?" inquired Mr. Lyle, as
they walked on together.
"What?" exclaimed Hartman, under his breath, and stopping short in the
street.
"Yes, what! I never saw a man so upset without an adequate cause in all
my life."
"Don't let us go into the house yet," said Victor; for they were now
before the door of the hotel. "It is only ten o'clock, and a fine night.
Take a turn with me down some quiet street, and I will tell you."
"Willingly," agreed Mr. Lyle; and they walked past the hotel and out
toward the suburbs of the little town.
"Mr. Lyle, I have seen them both!" exclaimed Victor, when they were out
of hearing of every one else.
"Both? Whom have you seen, Hartman?" inquired the minister a little
uneasily, as if he feared his companion was not quite sane.
"First, I have seen again the heavenly vision that appeared and
dispersed the furies from around me on that dark day when I passed, a
condemned criminal, from the Court House to the jail," replied Victor
Hartman, with emotion.
"Hartman, my poor fellow, are you mad?"
"No; but it was enough to make me so. To meet one of them, whom I never
expected to see again in this world, would have been enough to upset me
for a while; but to meet both, and to meet them together, who were so
widely apart in place and in rank, I tell you it was bewildering! I felt
as if I was under the influence of opium and in a delightful dream from
which I should soon awake. I did not quite believe it all to be real. I
do not quite believe it to be so yet. Have I seen that celestial
visitant again?" he inquired, putting his hand to his head in the same
confused manner.
"Now, which one of these young ladies do you take to have been your
'celestial visitant,' as you most absurdly call her?"
"Oh, the fair, golden-haired, azure-eyed angel, robed so appropriately
in pure white!"
"That was Miss Emma Cavendish," said Mr. Lyle, very uneasily; "and you
talk of her like a lover, Hartman--and like a very mad lover too! But
oh, I earnestly implore you, do not become so very mad, so frenzied as
to let yourself love Emma Cavendish! By birth, education and fortune she
is one of the first young ladies in the country, and a bride for a
prince. Do not, I conjure you, think of loving her yourself!"
Victor Hartman laughed a little light laugh, that seemed to do him good,
as he answered:
"Do not be afraid. I worship her too much to think of loving her in the
way you mean. And, besides, if I am not greatly mistaken, _my boy_ has
been before me."
"Alden Lytton?"
"Yes, sir. I saw it all. I was too much interested not to see it. My boy
and my angel like one another. Heaven bless them both! They are worthy
of each other. They will make a fine pair. He so handsome; she so
beautiful! He so talented; she so lovely! His family is quite as good as
hers. And as for a fortune, his shall equal hers!" said Victor, warmly.
"Will you give away all your wealth to make your 'boy' happy?" inquired
Mr. Lyle, with some emotion.
"No! The Red Cleft mine is not so easily exhausted. Besides, in any
case, I should save something for my girl She must have a marriage
portion too!"
"You really ought to have a guardian appointed by the court to take care
of you and your money, Victor. You will give it all away. And,
seriously, it grieves me to see you so inclined to rob yourself so
heavily to enrich others, even such as these excellent young people,"
said Mr. Lyle, with feeling.
"Be easy! When I have enriched them both I shall still have an
unexhausted gold mine! By the way, parson--parson!"
"Well, Hartman?"
"I saw something else beside the love between my angel and my boy. I
saw--saw a certain liking between my girl and my friend."
If the bright starlight had been bright enough Victor Hartman might have
seen the vivid blush that mantled all over the ingenuous face of Stephen
Lyle.
"I certainly admire Miss Lytton very much. She is a genuine girl," said
Mr. Lyle, as composedly as if his face was not crimson.
"And I see she certainly admires you very much. She evidently thinks you
are a genuine man. So, my dear friend, go in and win. And my girl shall
not miss her marriage portion," said Hartman, cordially.
Mr. Lyle was beginning to feel a little embarrassed at the turn the
conversation had taken, so he hastened to change it by saying:
"You told me that you had met them _both_ whom you never had expected to
see again in this world. One was Miss Cavendish, your 'heavenly vision;'
who was the other?"
"Can you be at a loss to know? There were but three young ladies
present. My own girl, whom I went to see and did expect to meet; Miss
Cavendish, whom you have just identified as one of the two alluded to,
and the brilliant little creature whom you introduced by a heathenish
sort of name which I have forgotten."
"Miss Electra?"
"Aye, that was the name; but however you call her, I knew her in Rat
Alley as Sal's Kid."
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, stopping short and trying to gaze through
the darkness into the face of his companion; for Mr. Lyle had never
happened to hear of the strange vicissitudes of Electra's childhood.
"She is Sal's Kid, I do assure you. Her face is too unique ever to be
mistaken. I could never forget or fail to recognize those flashing eyes
and gleaming teeth. And, I tell you, I would rather have found her again
as I found her to-night than have discovered another gold mine as rich
as that of Red Cleft."
"Hartman, you were never more deceived in your life. That young lady,
Electra Coroni, is the granddaughter of Dr. Beresford Jones, and is the
sole heiress of Beresford Manors. She was educated at the Mount
Ascension Academy for Young Ladies in this State, from which she has
just graduated."
"Whoever she is, or whatever she is, or wherever she lives now, when I
knew her she was Sal's Kid, and lived in Rat Alley, New York. And she
knew me as Galley Vick, the ship cook's boy."
"Hartman, you have certainly 'got a bee in your bonnet!'"
"We shall see. She almost recognized me to-night. She will quite know me
soon," answered Victor, as they turned their steps toward their hotel.