"I HAVE BETRAYED MYSELF. YOU KNOW MY HEART NOW."
It matters not its history; love has wings
Like lightning, swift and fatal, and it springs
Like a wild flower, where it is least expected,
Existing whether cherished or rejected.
L. E. L.
Ralph had been waiting many minutes for Miss Belmont, but he had
forgotten the lapse of time in his agitation over the meeting with
Kathleen, and he rose with almost a start to meet the beautiful blonde,
who hurried to him with both hands extended in rapturous greeting.
"So glad," she murmured, with the loveliest upward glance, that was
quite lost on Ralph, for he did not notice it, but exclaimed:
"I had quite a surprise coming in just now. I met Miss Carew. So she
has repented and come home?"
"Yes, and no--it was only a formal call. Kathleen is so proud she will
not come back to us, even for the short time before her marriage,"
answered Alpine.
She sighed, and he echoed it; but it was of Kathleen he was
thinking--bonny Kathleen. Alpine guessed it, and bit her lips, then
plunged into an animated account of Uncle Ben Carew, making him appear
in the most ridiculous light.
"He was an impostor, of course. Mamma is quite sure that my step-father
never had a brother," she said.
"But Kathleen believed in him?" he asked.
"Yes. Was it not strange she should let herself be deceived by such a
designing schemer? She carried him off as her guest at Mrs. Stone's."
He was silent, wondering if Kathleen had made a mistake, and suddenly
Alpine said, sweetly:
"Now please put Kathleen out of your mind and think of no one but me
while you are here. Am I not your friend, and haven't I some claim on
you?"
Something in her tone startled him. He glanced hurriedly into her face
and read as in a book all her love and longing. Her eyes met his and
held them as if fascinated. While he gazed she started forward and
caught his hand in hers, murmuring, hysterically:
"I have betrayed myself. You know my heart now. Oh, Ralph! forgive me
that I could not hide my love for you! Forgive me, and try to love me a
little in return."
"Good heavens!" cried the young man, aghast, withdrawing his hand
hurriedly from her grasp and looking at her in consternation.
But Alpine, already excited and unnerved by the scene with her brother,
could not draw back now, having betrayed her secret. She cried out,
pleadingly:
"Do not turn from me so angrily. Is it a crime to love you--to wish for
your love?"
She recalled him to the fact that he was acting rudely, that he ought
not to let this unhappy girl see the disgust with which she had
inspired him by her avowal of love.
It was most embarrassing. He longed to get away, for he did not know
what to say. He was utterly abashed, and obeying a sudden impulse,
sprung to his feet and turned to the door.
"Miss Belmont, I--I hope you will--excuse me, but I have--have just
remembered something--er--er--important--a rehearsal. Will you pardon
my haste? Good-bye," he stammered, like a bashful school-boy, and
instantly fled the scene, leaving Alpine to fling herself upon a sofa
in a burst of hysterical tears.
"Oh, why did I betray my bitter secret! I was mad--mad! and now I have
driven him from my side forever by my imprudence!" she sobbed in the
wildest _abandon_.
As she lay there sobbing, her hatred and jealousy of her beautiful
step-sister grew stronger than ever. It was for love of Kathleen that
Ralph Chainey had turned from her when she had humbled herself to him
and sued for his love.
Some touching verses rang in sad melody through her brain.
"Ah, dearest, had some happier chance,
The force of fateful circumstance,
Some burning thrill of love divine,
But touched your heart and made you mine,
How had my pulses gladly beat
With love's deep rapture wildly sweet;
How had my life so crowned put forth
Life's proudest strength to prove its worth
For love of you!
"But cruel fate that shapes our ends,
Dark doom that poet love attends--
The fate unhappy Petrarch sung
In fair Italia's burning tongue.
Such fate as, reckless, tears apart
The tendrils of the breaking heart
From every prop where it would twine,
Such cruel fate, alas! is mine
For love of you!
"So when my grave is green to see,
You will not let them say of me:
Her talent was a wasted power,
Her life has failed of fruit and flower;
For you will know the hopeless pain,
That palsied heart and hand and brain--
Will know that life has failed alone
Because a blight was on it thrown
For love of you!"
She dashed the tears from her eyes and sat up, the picture of shame and
despair.
"I could have been a better woman if he had been kind to me--if he
would but have promised to try to love me!" she muttered, angrily. "But
how fast he hurried away, as if he despised me. How I wish I could hate
him in return--hate him as I hate his dark-eyed love! It is for _her_
he scorns me. Oh, God! for vengeance on them both!"