CHAPTER XVII.
THE "VORTEX" DEPARTS.
"Let fall! Give way!"
Two oars struck the water with a splash, and the dingey shot out fromthe gang steps of the _Sylph_ the steady strokes of two sturdy sailorssending the little craft swiftly on its way. The owner lounged lazilyin the cushioned stern, one leg swung over the other, the tiller-ropesheld loosely in his hands. They were sweeping under the stern of the_Vortex_ when a voice from the schooner's deck hailed them. Thesailors held their oars suspended, and Churchill pushed back his capand looked up, frowning slightly, for the sun was in his eyes.
"Hello, Farr."
"Hello, old man. Going ashore?"
"Yes. Want a lift?"
"Thanks, if you don't mind putting back."
"Not a bit of it."
The orders were given, and the dingey brought up to the gang steps.Farr sprang in and they pushed off, heading once more for land.
Churchill pulled a cigar-case from his pocket and held it out to hiscompanion, and then a brief silence ensued while each procured alight.
"You've been something of a recluse for the last few days, Farr; Ihaven't seen you about. Been sticking close to your quarters?"
"I've been grinding at the charts. Our stay here is about at an end,and Dodd is a little dissatisfied with the progress of our work.Through one cause and another we have been delayed, and the work hasdragged."
"That doesn't seem to concern Dudley at all. He's ashore most of thetime."
Farr laughed indulgently.
"Oh! Dudley's a lazy Southerner. You can't hustle him. He's the saltof the earth, when you have plenty of time; but you can't impress himwith the necessity of haste."
"When do you go, old man?"
Farr took his cigar from between his lips, and watched the cloud ofsmoke as the breeze bore it far astern.
"I don't know exactly," he answered slowly. "Within the next week orten days surely."
"You will be very much missed," said Churchill heartily; "yet Isuppose it has been slow work for you."
Farr looked contemplatively down at the lighted end of his cigar.
"No. I shall be sorry to go."
After a slight pause he added:
"What has been going on?"
"Nothing much. Andrews has gone up to town. Miss Stuart is still atthe manor; but, of course, that is no news to you."
"I imagined she had not left," returned Farr indifferently. "I amgoing to call there this afternoon."
"Suppose, then, you meet me here; say in a couple of hours," suggestedChurchill, as he brought the dingey up to the float, "and go out anddine with me aboard the _Sylph_. I am by myself, for Andrews is away,and Archer is engaged."
"Thanks. I will be delighted."
Churchill turned to the sailor who stood erect in the boat, awaitinghis orders.
"At six sharp, Petersen, and tell the steward there will be two fordinner."
Then the two men turned on their heels and strode briskly up the sandyroad. Presently their paths diverged, and with a friendly nod theyseparated.
Farr went along in the direction of the manor at a swinging gait. Hehad not seen Jean since the night of the dance. In the events of thatevening his love for her had sustained a severe shock. He could not atonce readjust himself to this new and unwelcome development in thenature of her to whom he had given his deepest and most loyalallegiance. Heretofore he had found his love for her intensified byher coldness and indifference, but her flirtation with Maynard was notthe sort of thing he had expected from her, and it disappointed himbitterly. The world condoned many of Maynard's offenses because hepossessed a certain charm and amiability of manner, but Farr was tooclean-minded and upright to look lightly upon the man's selfishdisregard of every moral obligation, and he was impatient of hisill-deserved popularity. That Jean should show this man so marked apreference was to him incomprehensible. It was possible that she didnot know the full truth in regard to him, but even her innocence andunworldliness could not altogether shield her from blame, for she didknow that he was a faithless husband, and, moreover, his wife was herfriend. Under any other circumstances Farr would have been jealous,but now the sharpness of his disappointment in Jean outweighed everyother consideration. She had been to him the embodiment of sweetnessand purity, and as he paced up and down the white decks of the_Vortex_, he inveighed bitterly against this second overthrow of hisfaith. His anger was short-lived, however, for the tender little Jeanof the early summer had twined herself closely about his heart; andnow she rose, strong in the power and might of her love, denyingvaliantly that other self, pleading earnestly for more confidence andtrust. So it happened this sunshiny day that, as Farr leaned againstthe rail, gazing seaward, and pondered on these strange andcontradictory events, suddenly the bitterness died out of his heart,and in its place sprang up a passionate longing to see Jean, to hearher sweet voice tell him it was all a mistake, to put an end foreverto this intolerable uncertainty. And even as he came to thisconclusion, the dingey from the _Sylph_ hove in view, and, withoutpausing to reconsider, he hailed it.
Now he had left the manor gates behind, and striking out across thelawn, increased his pace, for his impatience would not be curbed. Thecrunching sound of wheels on the gravel brought him to a standstill.On his right a clump of cedars hid the road from sight. He thrustaside the low-growing branches, and as he peered through the aperturea carriage flashed by. Jean was driving, and he had a tantalizingglimpse of her bonny face, as she turned to speak to Eleanor andCliff, who were on the back seat. An involuntary exclamation escapedhim, and he sprang forward, but his voice was unheard, his presenceunheeded, and with a heavy heart he gazed after the rapidly retreatingvehicle. With a savage little laugh he swung about, and retraced hissteps. The joyousness of the summer day was darkened for him, and inhis heart was a fierce resentment against Fate.
His eyes were bent upon the ground as he plodded slowly along theroad, and so he did not see Miss Stuart, driving alone in Helen'sbuckboard, until she was within a few yards of him.
Miss Stuart scanned his face furtively as he stood beside thecarriage.
"Ah, Val," she said with an assumption of ease, "I suppose you havebeen at the manor?"
"No, I met them driving."
"How inhospitable of them not to have turned back," she exclaimed,with her eyes still on his face.
Farr was too obtuse to appreciate the drift of her remark.
"I was unfortunate. They did not see me."
Miss Stuart's brows contracted in a frown, and she flicked the longlash of her whip.
"You are not flattering, Val. I was at home."
He looked up at her quickly, a vague surprise in his eyes.
"I would not venture to inflict myself on you!" he replied with acareless laugh, and then he stood back a step, and raised his hat.
Miss Stuart's face flushed angrily, but she had no alternative but todrive on. As she gathered up the reins she shot a glance over hershoulder at Farr, but already he had turned away, and was movingrapidly down the road. She cut the horse with the whip, and in herheart was a burning desire to revenge herself on Jean.
As they took their places about the dinner-table at the manor thatevening, Nathalie made some casual mention of the _Vortex_, thusgiving Miss Stuart the pretext she sought.
"By the way," she said, fixing her eyes on Jean's face, although herwords were addressed to Helen, "on my way home this afternoon after Ileft you, I met Mr. Farr and had such a pleasant chat with him. He wason his way to call on us, but as he met me, I suppose----" She brokeoff with a charming air of embarrassment.
Jean raised her head proudly, and met Miss Stuart's gaze withunflinching eyes.
"You should have brought Mr. Farr back to tea," she said, sounconcernedly that even Helen was deceived, and Miss Stuart wasstirred with a passing feeling of admiration.
But the effort cost Jean a pang, and as she turned her eyes slowlyaway, there was a great coldness at her heart.
The following a
fternoon the girls were having tea in the drawing-room,the long French windows were pushed wide open, and the soft west windmoved the curtains gently to and fro. The blinds were drawn, for thesun shone hotly, and the half-darkened room seemed deliciously cooland refreshing, after the sultry atmosphere of the outer world.
Little Gladys danced in from the hall-way, waving a letter in the air.
"I took it away from Susie, sister," she cried, in her clear, childishtreble. "I don't know who it's for."
Miss Stuart leaned forward in her chair, and caught the soft dimpledwrist in her firm white hand.
"Let me read the address for you, baby."
Gladys demurred, shaking her fluffy head, her blue eyes full oflaughter, but Miss Stuart quietly possessed herself of the letter.
Her face fell as she turned toward the light and read the address. Thehandwriting, familiar, yet half strange, awakened a host of memorieswithin her; but the written name was not the one she had been wont tosee. She read the address aloud, with a tinge of sarcasm in her smoothvoice:
"'Miss Jean Lawrence, The Manor House.' For you, Miss Jean."
Jean crossed the room and took the envelope from Miss Stuart's hand.She could not repress a faint start of surprise as her eyes fell uponthe superscription, but the scornful smile on Miss Stuart's lips lenther instant self-control. She slipped the letter into her pocket, andresuming her place at Eleanor's side, took up the thread of theconversation where it had been broken off, with apparent ease andfacility. But her heart was beating wildly, and the hand that heldthe dainty teacup was far from steady.
It was almost an hour later when she pushed aside the portieres, andentered the music room. She glanced about her anxiously to assureherself that she was alone, then crossing to the further end andensconsing herself in one of the deep window-seats, pulled the letterfrom her pocket. For an instant she held it in her hand, her browsdrawn together, a wistful, questioning look in her eyes. She wasforcing herself to recall every word that Helen had said to her thatmiserable evening in the garden. In the light of that talk, thisletter to her from Valentine Farr both puzzled and troubled her. Shelooked down at the address, and with a sudden light of determinationin her face, broke the seal:
MY DEAR MISS JEAN:
We have received our orders and leave Hetherford on Thursday. Will you not let me see you before we sail? I started for the manor yesterday, but from a distance saw you driving away. I seem to be most unfortunate, but I cannot turn my back on the place where I have found so much happiness, without an attempt to see you again, to assure myself, at least, that I carry with me your friendship and good will. You were very good to me in the early days of our sojourn here, Miss Jean, and in memory of those days I venture to ask you if I may call at the manor to-morrow about four o'clock.
Yours, VALENTINE FARR.
Once, twice Jean read it through, then mechanically folded the bit ofpaper, and fitted it into the envelope carefully. A tremulous,incredulous joy was dawning on her face. She felt oppressed, andstarted to her feet. It surprised her to find that she was tremblingso she could not stand. She laughed, a little hysterically, as shesank back on the window-seat. Then, suddenly, she flung out her hands,and slipping down on her knees, buried her face in the soft cushions,and a storm of weeping shook the slender figure. In her despair shehad been silent, tearless, but in this awakening of hope within her,her pent-up feelings found relief in tears. A wild, almostunreasonable, joy was growing in her heart, and her quivering lipswere pressed passionately to her lover's letter. Her faith in him,which Helen's words had so cruelly crushed, was fast springing intolife again.
When at length the strength of her emotion had worn itself away, shelifted her head and, rising slowly to her feet, leaned against thecasement, and looked thoughtfully out upon the peaceful scene. The sunwas setting, and the western horizon was one blaze of golden glory.Jean's grave eyes seemed asking counsel of the far illumined sky. Oncea deep sigh trembled through her lips, and the thought that promptedit almost formed itself in words.
"Oh, if only my mother were here! I could not ask advice of anyoneelse, but I think I could speak to her."
For a long time Jean stood there silent, motionless; and when at lastshe moved away the crimson light had quite faded, and a soft violethaze lingered in the western sky. She crossed the room, and seatedherself at the open desk. For a moment she hesitated, holding her penpoised above the sheet of paper, then bent her head, and wroterapidly:
MY DEAR MR. FARR:
I shall be at home to-morrow afternoon, and shall be very glad to see you. I am sorry to learn that you are about to leave Hetherford, and somewhat surprised also, as I had no idea that your departure was imminent.
Yours very sincerely, JEAN LAWRENCE.
The written words looked cold and formal, and with a tender feeling ofcompunction Jean raised the bit of paper to her lips.
"I would be more kind, dear, if I dared," she murmured softly.
The old Dutch clock in the corner of the hall-way was chiming the hourof three the following afternoon, when Jean opened the door of herroom, and started to descend the wide staircase. From below voicesfloated up to her, and when she reached the landing she paused and,leaning over the banisters, looked down upon the girls who werestanding near the open front door. Nathalie caught sight of her, andsmiled blithely.
"Don't you want to come with us, Jean? We are going over to the innfor a game of tennis."
Jean shook her head.
"I am going to be thoroughly domestic this afternoon," she announcedwith a conscious little laugh.
At the sound of her voice Miss Stuart glanced sharply over hershoulder. There flashed into her mind the recollection of Farr's noteto Jean the previous day. She closed her lips tightly as she followedHelen and Nathalie out upon the veranda, and was singularly silent asthey sauntered leisurely across the lawn. When they were almost at thegates, she turned to Helen, a distressed expression on her lovelyface.
"Would you mind very much if I should turn back? I have had a slightheadache all day, and the sun seems to make it so much worse."
Helen looked sympathetically around at her.
"Why no, indeed, dear. I was afraid you were not feeling well, youhave been so quiet. By all means let us go right back."
But Miss Stuart would not listen to such an arrangement, and declared,with quite the air of a martyr, that she should proceed to the inn, inspite of her headache, unless Helen would do as she desired. When atlast she had succeeded in ridding herself of her companions, she drewa deep breath, and turning, walked hurriedly up the avenue. She didnot quite see her way clear to prevent an interview between Farr andJean, but she felt that if she were near at hand, fortune might throwsome unlooked-for chance into her path. She had kept them apart sofar. Surely she must not fail now at the very end, for the news of the_Vortex's_ departure had been spread abroad by Dudley with loudlamentations.
A great stillness lay over the manor this warm August afternoon, andas she ascended the veranda steps she heard clearly Aunt Helen's softvoice calling to Jean from the floor above.
"My dear, will you not come up and read to me for a while? My eyesare troubling me so, I dare not use them any more."
Miss Stuart stood still and listened, as Jean came slowly out from thedrawing-room.
"Very well, Auntie," the girl responded half-heartedly, and with animpatient sigh started up the stairs.
Miss Stuart waited a moment, then crossed the veranda noiselessly, andentered the house. After a cautious glance about the drawing-room, shestationed herself in one of the front windows which commanded theapproach to the manor. The blinds were drawn to shut out the heat andglare, and she turned the slats slightly to afford a view of thedriveway. A faint breeze rustled the vines that trailed over theveranda rail and climbed the graceful columns. The moments draggedslowly by. Even Miss Stuart's active mind began at length to yielditself to the drowsy influe
nce of the lifeless atmosphere, themonotonous buzzing of the flies, and the lazy twittering of the birdsas they rested idly on the branches of the elms, or sailed languidlythrough the haze which softly enveloped the earth. She flung one armabove her head, and leaned back in her chair. Her thoughts went backto those far-off happy days in Annapolis, and a faint smile curved thelines of her mouth. Dreamily her memories journeyed on toward thepresent, and then once more her jealous wrath was awakened. Shestarted up the more effectually to shake off the torpor that wasstealing over her, and, rising, took one or two short turns up anddown the room, pausing frequently at her post, to peer out through thedrawn blinds. Her vigil was a tedious one, the result of it uncertain,but the warring spirit within her was now thoroughly aroused and herpatience did not flag.
"What move can I make?" she asked herself again and again. "I can'tvery well insist on playing an unwelcome third to their _tete-a-tete_.They have been driven, and they would outwit me there. Ah! well, weshall see, we shall see."
Then a sharp exclamation broke from her, for, as she halted at thewindow, she discovered Valentine Farr's erect figure swinging lightlyacross the lawn in the direction of the manor. She turned the slatssoftly and crossed hurriedly to the entrance of the drawing-room, andstanding there, her hands holding the portieres apart on either side,she tilted her head forward, straining every nerve to catch thefaintest sound from the floor above. It was perfectly quiet, and herface cleared a little. Next her anxious eyes swept the half-darkenedhall-way, as if in search of some suggestion, but the widechimney-place with its brass andirons agleam where the light touchedthem, the old clock in the corner ticking slowly, steadily, offeredher no help. The outer door stood ajar, and leaning a little furtherforward she could see that Farr was within a short distance of theveranda. Ah! what should she do? Her quick ear caught the sound of aheavy footfall ascending from the lower floor and while her eyes wereriveted on the spot whence the sound issued, the swinging door in therear of the hall was pushed open, and a woman toiled laboriouslythrough, bearing in her arms a hamper of clean linen. Miss Stuart'sready mind sprang at once to the solution of the difficulty, and whilethe thought formed itself, she cleared the distance between them.
Her voice shook a little as she spoke, for her heart was beating highin the hope of victory.
"Please set your hamper right down here, and go to the front door.There is a gentleman just coming in. Say to him that Miss Jean begs tobe excused, that she particularly wishes to be excused. Well,"imperiously, for the good-natured woman was staring at her stupidly,with gaping mouth and astonished eyes. "Don't you understand me? Putyour hamper down at once and do as I tell you."
The woman obeyed her slowly, and wiping her hands on her apron, movedclumsily forward. Farr's foot was already on the step of the veranda,and Miss Stuart had barely time to push open the swinging door andconceal herself behind it, when his clear, quiet voice, addressing thestrange servant, broke the stillness.
"Will you please tell Miss Jean Lawrence that Mr. Farr wishes to seeher. She is expecting me, I believe."
The woman confused by her hurried orders, and embarrassed by theunusual duty of waiting upon the door, grew very red in the face, asshe answered bluntly:
"She says she won't see yer, sir."
Farr stared blankly at her.
"What? Oh, I think you must be mistaken. Just take my message up toMiss Jean, please."
In her hiding-place Miss Stuart clutched tightly at the folds of hergown, and a look of desperation burned in her eyes. But her fears wereunfounded. The woman's thickset figure barred the doorway, and shestood her ground stolidly.
"It ain't no use, sir. She told me herself she pertick'ly wouldn't seeyou, sir."
Farr's face went very white, and without another syllable he turned onhis heel and strode away.
"Sure I didn't say it just the same way yer told me, Miss," the womansaid apologetically, as Miss Stuart opened the backdoor and confrontedher, "but I sent him away for yer, well enough, I guess," and grinningbroadly, she lifted her hamper, and proceeded heavily up the stairs.
A moment later Miss Stuart quietly followed her, congratulatingherself on the wonderful success of her maneuver.
"It was a master-stroke," she said to herself triumphantly, as sheclosed the door of her room. "Susie will never know that he called,for I don't believe that stupid creature will mention the occurrence.Ah, how fortunate Mrs. Dennis's room is at the rear of the house," andshe flung herself down on the lounge and closed her eyes wearily, forthe excitement had worn upon her.
At the same moment, Aunt Helen's door softly shut, and Jean, her facefull of glad expectancy, ran lightly down the stairs. More than anhour later she crept slowly up again, all the joy gone out of herblanched face, her sensitive lips quivering piteously; despair andmisery in her eyes.
The following morning the _Vortex_ sailed. Captain Dodd and Dudley hadcalled at the manor the evening before, and in the merry little partyspeculations were rife as to the cause of Farr's desertion, on thishis last evening in Hetherford. Jean forced herself to sit quietly byand listen, and her heart grew numb and cold. Outwardly, however, hermanner was so natural and self-possessed that Helen drew a deep breathof relief, and persuaded herself that Jean could not be so veryunhappy.
* * * * *
In the morning, at an early hour, Jean is on the upper balcony. Shecrosses her arms on the rail, and her eyes are fastened on the placewhere the _Vortex_ lies at anchor. Already her sails are set, and inanother moment the loud boom of her cannon announces her departure.The girl shivers a little, but does not stir from her position. Nowthe schooner is sailing gallantly along, the sun shining full on herwhite sails. Ah, how rapidly she nears the headland. She is roundingit. Now, only the top of her tall masts can be seen above the rocks.Ah, she is gone. Jean's face drops on her crossed arms, and a low crybreaks from her white lips.
Scarcely had the _Vortex_ been an hour on her way, when Miss Stuartpresented herself in Helen's room, and announced in tones of deepestregret that she would be obliged to leave them on the following day.
"Mother has issued her commands," she said dolefully, and then, as alook of incredulity dawned in Helen's face, she made haste to add,"and there are many reasons why it is much better that I should go."
Helen sighed, but did not attempt to alter her friend's decision.
That evening, when the last farewell words had been spoken to thefriends from the inn and the parsonage, Miss Stuart went up to herroom followed by the three Lawrence girls. Helen and Nathalie went towork over her half-packed trunks, and Jean, leaning against thefootboard of the bed, looked on with languid interest. Miss Stuart,who was complacently issuing orders to the two packers, leaned lazilyback in an easy-chair, her white hands folded idly in her lap. Jeansurveyed her gravely, but without bitterness. This was the woman whomValentine Farr loved, and much as she had suffered, she was ready todo her full justice. Suddenly Miss Stuart looked up, and their eyesmet. Jean moved forward and held out her hand.
"Good-night and good-by, Miss Stuart. I am very tired and I fear Iwill not be up for the early train in the morning. I hope you havebeen happy at the manor." She broke off abruptly. She knew that sheought to add, "I am sorry you are going," but the words refused topass her lips.
Miss Stuart rose and took the outstretched hand, but she could notmeet Jean's clear gaze.
It was late when the door closed upon Helen and her kindly offices.Miss Stuart, possessed by an intense restlessness, paced up and downthe room. Her thoughts were as accusing angels. What return had shemade for the kindness and hospitality of these friends under whoseroof she had spent the last three weeks? Her wicked pride and passionhad indeed sown the seeds of misery in one heart. Of Jean she hadthought with shrinking, but trusting, faithful Helen caused her thekeener pang, the sharper suffering. It was not too late, however. Withone word she could undo the mischief she had so deliberately wrought.Just for one moment Miss Stuart's better self held sway, soft
ening herhard and jealous nature. Just for one moment--then the impulse diedout, and with a reckless laugh she drowned the voice of conscience.