ALPINE'S RENEWED HOPES.
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams.
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
Alpine Belmont, all in a flutter of surprise and delight, was making
herself beautiful, with her maid's assistance, for the eyes of a caller
who was waiting for her in the drawing-room.
Ten minutes ago a card had been brought to her bearing the name of
"Ralph Chainey."
"He asked for Mrs. Carew first, but I told him she was out; then he
sent his card to you," said Jones.
Alpine's heart leaped with wild delight.
She was as romantically in love with the gifted and handsome young
actor as was possible to one of her vain and selfish nature.
After Kathleen's death she had cherished some hope of winning him,
but his coldness and indifference had been so marked, and his despair
over Kathleen's loss so deep, that in angry pique she had given up her
hopes, and determined to console herself with her newly acquired wealth.
The novelty of her position as a great heiress had for a time diverted
her thoughts, but of late they had returned to him again, and rested
longingly on her desire to win his heart.
So the sudden announcement of his presence filled her with joyful
anticipations.
Her maid was hurriedly summoned to array her mistress for the coming
interview.
In the servants' hall, a little later, she expressed the opinion that
the gentleman must be a very particular beau, as the lady was so hard
to please.
Meanwhile, Alpine, palpitating in a light-blue silk that set off very
becomingly her blonde beauty, was entering the drawing-room to meet her
caller.
Ralph Chainey, dark, stately, handsome, the incarnation of a romantic
young girl's idea of a lover, rose and bowed with courtly grace over
Miss Belmont's hand.
He had been searching vainly for Kathleen more than a week, and at
last it occurred to him that perhaps she had come home. He hastened to
Boston in a fever of anxiety.
Alpine could never remember afterward in what words he told his story,
it came on her so suddenly, it found her so unprepared, but presently
she knew it all--knew that Kathleen, whose death had so softened her
heart, was alive, and that but for some strange happening of fate, she
would that moment be Ralph Chainey's beloved wife.
With that knowledge, Alpine's heart grew cold as ice again; the old
jealous hate revived.
She could not speak for some moments, but sat staring with burning blue
eyes at the unhappy young man, who was pouring out his whole heart.
"Oh, Miss Belmont, think what an awful shock it was to me, losing her
in that mysterious fashion. I have scarcely eaten or slept since, I
have been so wretched, I employed detectives, but they seem to be all
at sea. They even believe that I was mistaken--that it was not Kathleen
Carew at all, but really Daisy Lynn, a lunatic. Miss Watts, from whom
she had escaped, had been found, and she declared that the girl was her
niece."
A wild hope came into Alpine's mind, and she faltered:
"I believe the detectives are right. Kathleen can not be alive.
Remember we saw her in her coffin, cold and dead."
"Not dead, for I have seen her alive!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Miss Belmont,
do not discourage me--do not turn unbelieving ears to my story, for I
swear to you that Kathleen Carew is alive to-night--alive, but given
over to some fate, perhaps, worse than death!"
Alpine's heart beat wildly as he fixed his great burning brown eyes so
sorrowfully upon her face. Oh, God! she thought, what would she not
give for Ralph Chainey to love her as he did Kathleen Carew, her hated
step-sister!
Some burning words of the Virginia poetess, Mittie Point Davis, came
into her mind:
"If your heart could throb for me,
Even for a moment's space,
With the love I feel for thee
Gazing on that glorious face;
If the passion that I feel
Found response within your breast,
Years of anguish could not steal
Memories that I had been blest.
"If those eyes so darkly glorious,
Kindled as with mine they met,
I could hold myself victorious
Even though you did forget.
I could give the lifelong passion
Of a thousand meaner souls
For one hour's brief adoration
Over thine to sway control."
Ralph Chainey did not dream what a wealth of love for him had blossomed
into full flower in the young girl's heart. Men are blind, or they
would never confide to one beautiful young girl the story of their love
for another one. Few girls are noble enough to listen without being
piqued and jealous.
Alpine Belmont's heart burned within her, and she said to herself
that she hoped he was mistaken, and that poor Kathleen was dead. She
believed it herself, and she and her mother had long ago agreed that
Kathleen's body had been stolen from the doctor's cottage for purposes
of dissection. She had shuddered at the thought of that beautiful body
being so desecrated, but Mrs. Carew had seemed quite indifferent,
and congratulated herself that she had escaped the expenses of a
fashionable funeral and a costly monument.
All the sorrow she had felt for Kathleen's death died out of Alpine's
heart as she beheld the trouble of the handsome young actor, and she
said to herself that if Kathleen could rise from the grave and stand
before her, she would be tempted to strike her dead at her feet.
While these cruel and jealous thoughts ran through Alpine's mind,
Ralph Chainey was looking at her with pathetic eyes that mutely craved
her sympathy. At last she began to understand this, and a clever idea
came to her. Why not pretend to sympathize with him in his sorrow?
It would bring them closer together, and perhaps win her some kind
thoughts from him.
Following out her thought, Alpine moved to a seat beside the young
actor, and laying her soft, ringed white hand lightly upon his, she
gave it a sympathetic pressure, and murmured:
"No words can tell you how deeply I sympathize with you in your sorrow.
I hope, for both our sakes, that your belief may prove true, and
Kathleen be restored to your heart."
Her sympathy pleased him, as she knew it would, and he answered,
eagerly:
"You loved her. I know. How could any one live in the house with her
and not be devoted to one so sweet and lovely?"
Alpine withdrew her hand and played nervously with her many rings.
"Yes. I was fond of Kathleen," she murmured. "You did well to come to
me. You have all my sympathy, and oh! how I wish I could find her and
restore her to you. Is there nothing I can do? I am rich, you know, and
if you wish it, I will employ a detective to find Kathleen;" but even
as she breathed the tender words, the wily girl knew that she would
rather employ a detective to hunt her rival down to her death.
Ralph Chainey, blind mortal that he was, looked at her gratefully,
without detecting the hollow ring in her voice.
"God bless you for your noble offer, Miss Belmont, but I can not accept
it," he replied. "I have detectives already employed. I, too, am rich,
and my whole fortune shall be devoted to finding her, if it costs that
much. All that you can do is to write to me at once if you hear from
our poor lost darling. I shall be moving from one city to another, but
I will keep you informed of my whereabouts."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Chainey, and I will write you if I have the least
bit of news!" exclaimed Alpine, with sparkling eyes, for she began to
see a prospect of getting up a correspondence with the great actor. She
would write to him often, asking if _he_ had any news, and he would be
obliged, in common courtesy, to reply.
He rose to go, and Alpine poured out eloquently her sympathy for him
and her sorrow for Kathleen.
"We both love her; it is a link between us," she said. "Try to think of
me as a sister, and remember I shall often be thinking of you in your
sorrow."
He thanked her gratefully and hurried away, after promising to call
again the first time he came to Boston.
Alpine told her mother on her return of the young man's visit, and his
startling disclosure, but Mrs. Carew pooh-poohed the whole story.
"Kathleen is certainly dead," she said. "Ralph Chainey has been imposed
on by a pretty lunatic, that's all. I thought he had more sense."