VIOLET ATTEMPTS A TRUCE.
Violet was so overcome with terror and surprise, and so nervous and
overwrought, that for a time she could only stand there, Will’s arms
about her, his face, pale and startled, bent over her own, his eyes
full of tender sympathy.
“Violet--Miss Arleigh!” he cried, and his voice trembled as he spoke,
“what _is_ the matter? What has frightened you so? For I am sure that
you were frightened at something. You came running down the staircase
yonder as though some dreadful creature were in pursuit. Come, let us
go over to that rustic seat under the magnolia-tree yonder, and sit
down for a few moments. To tell the truth, Miss Arleigh, I had wished
very much to see you, and it seemed as if my good fortune precipitated
you directly into my arms.”
Violet did not see the stern white face at the library window, where
her modern Othello stood glaring down in speechless wrath upon
the scene. It looked like a love-scene, certainly; to the jealous
imagination of the lover it looked like a meeting between two who cared
for each other.
“I would never have believed it, if I had not seen it with my own
eyes,” muttered Leonard, harshly; as if it were possible for him to
have witnessed the scene with any other eyes than his own.
In the meantime, the two unconscious culprits had seated themselves
upon the rustic seat under the drooping branches of the magnolia-tree,
with the pale silvery moon just creeping forth from behind a light
fleecy cloud, gazing down upon the pair with calm, smiling eyes--that
same old moon that has played so many tricks in its time upon lovers,
and has misled more than one jealous, suspicious swain such as I am
sorry to say--but truth compels me to admit it--that Leonard Yorke has
proven himself to be.
That same tricky moonlight, playing hide-and-seek among the green
leaves of the drooping magnolia boughs, showed Violet very pale and
still at Will Venners’ side. His handsome face was bent over her own,
and he was speaking in a low, earnest voice.
Not one word that he uttered could reach Leonard’s ears, and therefore
he naturally imagined that Venners was making love of the fiercest
description to his not unwilling listener. But in reality this is just
what Will was saying:
“I have ventured here to-night, Miss Arleigh, though it was quite a
time before I could make up my mind to come, for I know that for some
reason Yorke does not like me, and only invited me here from common
civility; but I felt that I _must_ make one more effort to see Jessie
Glyndon before I go. I have decided to go out to Texas, you see. There
is no use in my remaining here, and--and I love her so, Violet, I can
not bear to stay here, and in time see her wedded to another--not
that I know of any other that she cares for just now. Do--do _you_,
Violet?” with a wistful glance into Violet’s face, quite as though he
were anxious for her to say _yes_. Yet, in truth, he was half wild with
consternation lest she should corroborate his secret fears.
Violet shook her head, with a slight smile. She felt sorry for Will
from the very bottom of her warm, womanly, sympathetic heart.
“No; I am _sure_ there is no one else, Will,” she returned. “And,
indeed, I--I don’t see how Jessie can help caring for you. I
mean”--stopping short, with a vivid blush overspreading her pale face
as she realized what she had said--“I mean that I think that she _does_
care.”
“Bah! she has a strange way of showing it, then!” retorted Will,
bitterly.
A sudden impulse, a sweet, gentle impulse, came into Violet’s heart to
try and help these two who seemed playing at cross-purposes, all that
might lie in her power. Not to _interfere_--Violet had a horror of all
interference or meddling in such cases; to her they seemed sacred as
private--but perhaps she might be able to advise and counsel a little
in a time like this.
“Will”--her eyes shone like diamonds--“suppose you let me go into
the house now, this very moment, and ask Jessie to come out here to
see you? It would be so much nicer and more romantic out here in the
moonlight than to sit in state in the big, grand drawing-room, with
Aunt Constance playing propriety, and Hilda watching you with quizzical
eyes. I know Jessie would not like that, and she _would_ like the
moonlight and the _tête-à-tête_ with you. What woman could help it?”
with unconscious flattery. “Shall I go and ask Jessie to come out here,
Will? Remember you are going away, and it will be good-bye.”
Will’s face was pale as death, and his dark eyes shone like stars.
“I want to see her, Heaven knows I do!” he said, sadly; “but suppose
that she should refuse to come, Miss Arleigh? It would nearly kill me!”
“She shall not refuse! I will not give her the chance.”
Violet rose to her feet with an air of determination. She felt quite
maternal in her regard for this distressed young lover, and her heart
was full of the desire to help him and Jessie out of this slough
of misunderstanding; for somehow Violet felt that there _was_ a
misunderstanding somewhere.
“She shall have no chance to refuse, even if she meditates a refusal,”
said Violet, resolutely. “I will steal a march upon her. Just wait here
a few moments, Will--only a few moments--and I will see what I can do.”
She glided swiftly, softly away, a slight little figure in its black
gown, with pale face and resolute eyes.
Will’s glance followed the slender figure, and a slight moisture crept
into his eyes as he murmured softly:
“Heaven bless her kind heart!”
Into the house went Violet, swift and eager. In the hall she
encountered Miss Glyndon on her way upstairs to Mrs. Yorke’s room with
a sleeping-potion. After administering it, she was expected to sit by
the bed and read aloud to the sleepless, nervous invalid until at last
sleep should overtake her.
Violet went straight up to Mrs. Yorke’s companion and laid her hand
upon the white sleeve of Miss Glyndon’s dress.
“Jessie, let me take that up to Mrs. Yorke,” she said in a pleading
tone; “and you--you go out into the grounds for a little while. It will
do you good to get the fresh air. You are looking very pale.”
Jessie Glyndon’s large gray eyes met the earnest gaze of Violet’s with
a swift, half-startled expression in their depths.
“I--looking pale? Why, you must be mistaken, Miss Arleigh. I was never
better nor stronger in my life.”
“But that is not the question,” persisted Violet; “and I want you to go
out for a walk for a little while. Come with me, Jessie. Let Mrs. Yorke
wait for this for once. It will not hurt her to wait, and it is so very
early--hardly nightfall yet. Why should she wish to sleep at such an
early hour as this? No wonder she is wakeful and nervous later in the
night, if she goes to sleep with the birds in this fashion. Here, give
me the potion; I will assume all responsibility. Now come with me out
into the grounds. Really and truly, I will admit that I have a reason
for making the request--not half a bad reason, either; and as it is
the very first request I have ever made of you, I am sure you ought to
gratify it.”
Violet took the vial from Jessie’s hand, and slipping her arm about
the girl’s waist, led her half resisting (though never for an instant
suspecting the truth) out through the open door into the pearly,
moonlit night.
Violet’s face wore a look of determination that was really unique,
and her dark eyes gleamed with delight as she led her captive swiftly
down the broad walk in the direction of the magnolia-tree and the dark
figure, in its well-fitting suit of brown serge, seated upon the rustic
bench.
Jessie drew back with a startled exclamation as the moonlight glinted
across his face.
“There is some one there, Miss Arleigh,” she whispered. “See! it is a
man.”
“So it is,” cried Violet, innocently; “and as true as I live, Jessie,
it is Captain Venners! Why, Captain Venners!”--in a tone of Jesuitical
surprise--“when did you arrive?”
Will was shaking hands with Jessie, trying to ignore her very palpable
coldness, trying in vain to look into her eyes and read the story
hidden there. But, alas! it was Sanscrit to him.
“Now, I will hurry back to Mrs. Yorke,” interposed Violet. “And you
need not make haste at all, Jessie; Captain Venners will entertain
you, I am sure; so I’m off!” and before Jessie could attempt a word of
protest, Violet flitted away up the path to the house, and Jessie and
Will were alone together.
[Illustration]