Horace Shellington, newly fledged attorney and counsellor-at-law, sat in
his luxurious library, his feet cocked upon the desk in true bachelor
fashion. He was apparently deep in thought, his handsome head resting
against the back of the chair, when his meditations were broken by a
knock at the door.
"Come in. Is it you, Sis?" he said.
"Yes, Dear," was the answer as the girl entered. "Everett wants us to go
in his party to the Dryden fair. Would you like to?"
Horace glanced up quizzically and smiled as the blush mounted to her
fair hair. "The question, Ann dear, rests with you."
"I never tire being with Everett," Ann said slowly.
"That's because you're in love with him, Sis. When a girl is in love she
always wants to be with the lucky chap."
"And doesn't he want to be with her?" demanded Ann eagerly.
"Of course. And, Ann, I shouldn't ask for a better fellow than Everett
is, only that I don't want you to leave me right away. Without you,
Dear, I think I should die of the blue devils!"
"Do you want me to stay at home until you, too, get ready to marry?" Ann
asked laughingly. "I'm afraid I should never have a chance to help
Everett make a home if you did; for you simply won't like any of the
girls I know."
"I want to get well started in my profession before I think of
marrying. I am happy over the fact that I have been able to enter
Vandecar's law office. He's the strongest man in the state in his line,
and it means New York for me some day. Vandecar is even more powerful
than Brimbecomb."
"I'm glad for you, Horace, because it seems to me that you have an
opportunity that few men have. Nothing can ever keep you back! And you
are so very young, Dear!"
"No, nothing can keep me back now, Ann. Sit down, do."
"Not now, Dear; I'll run away from you, and tell Everett that you will
go to Dryden with us--and I do hope that the weather will be fine!"
Ann tripped out, her heart light with contentment. Her star of happiness
had reached its zenith when Everett Brimbecomb had asked her to be his
wife. Rich in her own right, of the bluest blood in the state, soon to
marry the man who had been her ideal since their childhood days, why
should she not be happy?
After leaving Horace, Ann went to the side window and tapped upon it.
Receiving no response, she lifted the sash and called softly to her
fiancé. Hearing her voice, Everett Brimbecomb appeared at the opposite
window. The girl's heart thrilled with happiness as he smiled upon her.
"Run over a minute, Everett," she called.
"All right, dear heart."
His voice was so vibrantly low and rich that the girl experienced a
feeling of thanksgiving as she stood waiting for him at the door. When
he came, the lovers went into the drawing-room, where a grate fire
burned dim.
"Horace says he'll go to Dryden, Everett," Ann announced, "and I'm so
glad! I thought he might say that he was too busy."
Everett smiled, slipped his arm about the girl's waist, and for a moment
she leaned against him like a frail, sweet flower.
Presently Ann noticed that a shadow had settled on her lover's face.
Womanlike, she questioned him.
"Is there anything the matter, Dear?" she asked, drawing him to the
divan.
"Nothing serious. I've been talking with Father."
"Yes?"
She waited for him to continue; but he sat silent, wrapped in thought
for a long minute. At last, however, he spoke gloomily:
"Ann, I wish I knew who my own people were."
"Aren't you satisfied with those you have, Everett?" There was sweet
reproof in the girl's tones.
"More than satisfied," he said; "but somehow I feel--no I won't say it,
Ann. It would seem caddish to you."
"Nothing you could say to me would seem that," she answered.
Everett rose and walked up and down the room. "Well, it seems to me
that, although the blood of the Brimbecomb's is blue, mine is bluer
still; that, while they have many famous ancestors, I have still more
illustrious ones. I feel sometimes a longing to run wild and do
unheard-of things, and to make men know my strength, to--well, to
virtually turn the world upside down."
A frightened look leaped into the girl's eyes. He was so vehement, so
passionate, so powerful, that at times she felt how inferior in
temperment she was to him. Her heart swelled with gratitude when she
realized that he belonged to her and to her alone. How good God had
been! And every day in the solitude of her chamber she had thanked the
Giver of every gift for this perfect man--since he was perfect to her.
In a few moments she rose and walked beside him, longing to enter into
the hidden ambitions of his heart, to read his innermost thoughts.
Everett appreciated her feeling. Again he passed his arm around her, and
for a time they paced to and fro, each thankful for the love that had
become the chief thing in life.
"I have an idea, Ann," began Everett presently, "that my mother will
know me by the scar on me here." He raised his fingers to his shoulder
and drew them slowly downward as he continued. "And I know that she is
some wild, beautiful thing different from any other woman living. And
I've pictured my father in my mind's eyes a million times, since I have
found out I am not really Everett Brimbecomb."
"But Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb have done everything for you--"
"So they have," broke in Everett; "but a chap wants to know his own
flesh and blood, and, since Mother told me that I was not her own son,
I've looked into the face of every woman I've seen and wondered if my
own mother was like her. I don't want to seem ungrateful; but if they
would only tell me more I could rest easier." A painful pucker settled
between his brows.
"Sit down here, Everett," Ann urged, "and tell me if you have ever tried
to find them."
"I asked my fath--Mr. Brimbecomb today." His faltering words and the
change of appellation shocked Ann; but she did not chide him, for he was
speaking again. "I told him that, now I was through college and had been
admitted to the bar, I insisted upon knowing who my own people were. But
he said that I must ask his wife; that she knew, and would tell me, if
she desired me to know. I promised him long ago that I would register in
his law office at the same time that Horace went to Vandecar's. Confound
it, Ann!--I beg your pardon, but I feel as if I had been created for
something more than to drone over petty cases in a law office."
"But, Everett, it has been understood ever since you went to Cornell
that you should enter Mr. Brimbecomb's office. You would not fail him
now that he is so dependent upon you?"
"Of course not; I intend to work with him. But I tell you this, Ann,
that I am determined to find my own people at whatever cost!"
"Did you ask Mrs. Brimbecomb about them?"
"Yes; but she cried so that I stopped--and so it goes! Well, Dear, I
don't want to worry you. It only makes a little more work for me, that's
all. But, when I do find them, I shall be the proudest man in all the
world."
Ann rose to her feet hastily. "Here comes Horace! Let's talk over the
fair--and now, Dear, I must kiss away those naughty lines between your
eyes this moment. I don't want my boy to feel sad."
She kissed him tenderly, and turned to meet her brother.
"I was tired of staying in there alone," said Horace. "Hello, Everett!
It was nice of you, old chap, to ask me along to Dryden. That's my one
failing in the fall--I always go. Let me see--you didn't go last year,
did you, Everett?"
"No; but I knew that Ann wanted to go this year, and I thought a party
would be pleasant. I asked Katherine Vandecar; but her aunt is such an
invalid that Katherine can scarcely ever leave her."
"Mrs. Vandecar is ill," said Ann. "I called there yesterday, and she is
the frailest looking woman I ever saw."
"She's never got over the loss of her children," rejoined Everett. "It's
hard on Vandecar, too, to have her ill. He looks ten years older than he
is."
"Yes; but their little Mildred is such a comfort to them both!"
interjected Ann. "They watch the child like hawks. I suppose it's only
natural after their awful experience. Isn't it strange that two children
could disappear from the face of the earth and not a word be heard from
them in all these years?"
"They're probably dead," replied Horace gently, and silence fell upon
them.