MRS. CAREW IS MYSTERIOUSLY ABSENT.
Alas, that clouds should ever steal
O'er Love's delicious sky--
That ever Love's sweet lip should feel
Aught but the gentlest sigh.
L. E. L.
Mrs. Carew did not appear at breakfast the next morning and Alpine,
with a reproachful glance at Kathleen, said that mamma was sick. She
had been so worried last night that she could not sleep, and this
morning she had such a terrible headache that she must lie abed all day.
Kathleen did not look either repentant or sorry. She simply said that
in that case she would not practice her music this morning, and went
off to her own little studio, where she painted a while with great
ardor, then threw down her brush, and rang for Susette to bring up the
morning papers.
Susette lingered a minute after she had put down the newspapers.
"Miss Kathleen, I don't think it will disturb Mrs. Carew the least bit
if you practice your music," she said, significantly.
"But her head aches, Susette."
"No, it don't miss; she's not in the house, so there! She went away
early--very early, in her traveling-dress, the Lord knows where; for
James told me so on the sly." (James was the butler, and Susette's
sweetheart.)
Kathleen looked a little startled as she said:
"You must be mistaken. Ellen has been with her mistress all day. I
tapped at the door a while ago to ask how she was, and she reported
Mrs. Carew as very low."
"They are all deceiving you, Miss Kathleen, but what for I don't know,
only I'm sure and certain she ain't in this house," protested Susette,
stoutly.
"Very well, Susette. Her absence has no more interest for me than her
presence," Kathleen answered, indifferently, as she opened _The Globe_
and read the encomiums on Ralph Chainey's acting that filled a critical
half column.
Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed with pleasure.
"He plays 'Prince Karl' again to-night. Oh if I only could go again!"
she thought, regretfully; then, throwing down the paper, she decided
she would go and practice her music, since Mrs. Carew was not ill, as
Alpine pretended.
She had played but a few bars when Alpine entered with reproachful eyes.
"Have you no feeling, Kathleen? You will kill mamma!"
"Since mamma went away this morning early and has not yet returned,
there's no danger," Kathleen answered, coolly.
"It is false! Who told you so?"
"No matter how I found it out. I'm in possession of the mysterious
fact."
"It's that prying Susette, I know! I shall advise mamma to dismiss her
immediately."
"You'd better not, Alpine. Susette knows some of your _secrets_!"
Kathleen answered, with a provoking laugh.
"I have no secrets!" snapped Alpine; but she left the room discomfited.
Kathleen practiced and read until the late luncheon, where she was
surprised to find herself alone.
"Where is Miss Belmont, James?" she asked.
"Miss Belmont went out for a walk," he answered, respectfully.
While Kathleen was making up her mind to go for a walk, too, some
callers were announced. She received the matron and her two gay young
daughters, entertained them herself, with an apology for the absence
of the other members of the family, and saw them depart with a sigh of
relief.
"I will go for my walk now," she decided, but turning from the piano,
she saw an open note lying on the floor. Her own name attracted her,
and picking it up, she read, under date of that morning:
"DEAR ALPINE AND KATHLEEN--Mamma wishes you to join us at an informal
three-o'clock lunch to-day, to meet a distinguished guest. Brother
George was at college with Prince Karl--Ralph Chainey, you know--and
he is coming here to lunch with us to-day. Do come, girls! He's so
handsome and talented I want you both to know him. There will be
several others, too, but we want you especially. I want him to see our
beautiful Kathleen."
The note bore the name of Helen Fox, one of their intimate girl
friends, and Kathleen realized in a minute that she had been tricked by
crafty Alpine, who had gone to the luncheon alone to meet Ralph Chainey.
A futile sob of bitter disappointment rose in the girl's throat, and
crushing the note in her hand, she walked to the window, gazing blankly
out into the handsome street through burning tears.
A light laugh startled her. There was Alpine Belmont, in elegant
attire, walking toward the gate with a tall, handsome, _distingué_
young man. Lifting his hat with a smile, he left the young lady there,
and walked away with a hasty backward glance at the window that
showed him a lovely, woful face staring in undisguised wonder at the
spectacle of Ralph Chainey walking home with deceitful Alpine Belmont.
"Alpine, you wicked girl, how could you treat me so unfairly?" she
demanded, shaking with passion.
Alpine flung herself into a chair, flushed, laughing, insolent.
"You told mamma last night that I was a sneaking tell-tale, didn't you?
Well, then, I paid you off, that's all! Besides, mamma does not allow
you to know Ralph Chainey--a pity for you, my poor Kathleen, for he's
the most fascinating young man I ever met. I made myself very agreeable
to him, and I think he fell in love with me. You see yourself he walked
home with me from Helen's luncheon. Would you like to know what I told
him about you, my charming Kathleen?"
"No!" the girl answered, hotly.
"I don't believe you--you're dying to hear. Well, it was this: I said
you did not recognize him in the least last night till I told you it
was the man that saved you at Newport. Then I said you would not come
to meet him at the luncheon to-day, because you said it would be such a
bore having to thank him. Ha, ha! You'd like to murder me, I know!"