CHAPTER III.
A LEAF FROM HELEN'S PAST.
Many years before the opening of this story the Lawrence childrencounted among their dearest friends a certain pleasant-faced, sturdylittle chap, Guy Appleton by name, who never considered a day quitecomplete unless at least a part of it was spent at the hospitablemanor. His own pretty home, Rose Cottage, lay only a stone's throwaway, and there the little Lawrence girls passed many a happy hour.Mrs. Appleton and Mrs. Lawrence had been schoolgirls together, and theflight of years had but strengthened their friendship. Mrs. Appletonwas delighted that her shy little son had found such pleasantcompanions, and in every way encouraged his intercourse with them. TheLawrences were all dear to Guy's boyish heart, but none held quite thesame place as Helen. She had been especially kind and friendly to him,and for her his affection was particularly deep and adoring.
The years, as they rolled by, served but to increase his love for hislittle playmate, and from his allegiance to her he never swerved. Whenhis college days were over and he was about to sail for Europe on anextended tour, he found it impossible to say farewell withoutspeaking to her of the subject which lay nearest his heart.
Helen was very young and inexperienced, and these were the first wordsof love to which she had ever listened. Her tender heart was deeplytouched, and Guy went away gladdened by her shy expression of sorrowat his departure, and by the whispered "Yes" that her lips spokefalteringly.
Helen had accepted her youthful lover, and many were the rejoicingsamong the small Hetherford circle over what they termed Helen'sengagement; although the girl herself looked a little grave over soserious a term. At the manor the new relationship was accepted gladly,for it seemed only a fitting ending to Guy's long friendship in theirfamily.
Three years slipped by; years in which Guy bent every energy to thestudy of architecture, which he had chosen as his profession. He haddecided talent, and by continued assiduity was making a name forhimself among his colleagues.
Little change had taken place in Hetherford except such as the flightof time must necessarily bring. Helen was now quite a woman, with apretty air of gravity which the new cares had lent to her.
When finally, one crisp October day, Guy walked in upon them, his facebronzed by the recent ocean trip, his slender figure grown broad andstrong, his blue eyes beaming with happiness, he was welcomed with thegreatest warmth of affection, and as they sat about the cracklingflames in the manor hall his long absence seemed almost a dream.
It was during the following winter that Helen had her firstmisgivings as to her real feeling for Guy. Indeed, sometimes, herengagement oppressed her strangely, and she was assailed by anoverwhelming longing to be free.
Women are indeed incomprehensible, and when the largess of their loveis not given, it is rare, save through some sharp lesson, that theyappreciate to the full the men whose hearts they possess. In thisHelen was, perhaps, in nowise different from the rest of her sex. Bethis as it may, Guy's unchanging love and devotion sometimes weariedher, and failed to call forth an answering love in her own heart. Yetthe months glided by, and she had not the courage to tell her loverthe truth. She was not always successful in hiding it from him,however, and once or twice a faint suspicion of her indifference cameto him.
The summer came and went, and almost a year had drifted by since hisreturn. Guy finally broached the subject of marriage.
At his first words Helen was filled with dismay, and as she listenedwith down-bent head and averted eyes, Guy was suddenly conscious of agreat lack in her love for him, and a sense of foreboding swept overhim. To his long and pleading request that a time might be set fortheir marriage, Helen put forth the children's claim upon her; andwhen he gently urged her to reconsider her determination, she answeredhim so sharply and curtly that he yielded, convinced that it would beunwise to press the matter any further.
Helen's lips had almost formed the words "Guy, I do not love you as Ishould," but her lover's face, pale with grief at her all too evidentreluctance, robbed her of the needful courage.
Guy was not a man of half measures, and, having accepted Helen'sdecision, resolutely put out of his mind his painful doubts, andtrusted to the future to strengthen her love for him. She was greatlytouched by his generosity and half ashamed of the stand she had taken,and now that the question of marriage was indefinitely postponed,persuaded herself that she was deeply attached to him, and that itwould have been both cruel and unwise to have broken her engagement.
In September Guy took his vacation and, his mother having volunteeredto go to the mountains with him, he induced Helen to accompany them.She had many qualms of conscience at leaving the children, but theinvitation was a tempting one, and she had not the heart to disappointher lover a second time. So, after strict injunctions to Mary, andurgent entreaties to Jean and Nathalie, she started off.
It was a delightful holiday for all three. Mrs. Appleton, who had nothought for anyone but her son, was overjoyed to see him in such highspirits, for of late she had thought him both sad and depressed; andGuy felt that his happiness was quite complete, for never had he hadHelen so much to himself, and never had she been so franklyaffectionate and sweet with him. The days glided by like a dream, evento Helen. She had thrust all worry and anxiety from her, and enteredwith eager interest and zest into all the plans for their pleasantjourneyings. If now and then she found herself a bit wearied by Guy'sunceasing attentions, she strenuously hid the fact from him and calledherself strictly to account for the unworthy thought.
It was at a hotel on the borders of a beautiful lake that Helen firstsaw Lillian Stuart. One morning Guy had gone off fishing, and as Mrs.Appleton was writing letters in the seclusion of her room, Helen tookher book and wandered out into the grounds in search of a cool, shadyspot where she could read in peace. Coming at length upon a retirednook, she found herself forestalled, for, comfortably ensconced underthe shade of a great willow, was a woman so beautiful that, as Helencaught sight of her, she could scarce repress an exclamation. The girllooked up, and their eyes met. Helen shyly dropped hers and passedquickly on, but that brief glimpse left a vivid impression upon hermind of a well-poised head, crowned with the most wonderful auburnhair, of a face dazzlingly fair, and a pair of deep violet eyes.
All day long Helen's thoughts reverted to this vision, and thatafternoon, when Guy returned from his fishing, she gave him a glowingdescription of her encounter.
Just before dinner, while they were standing together in the corridor,the girl came toward them on her way to the dining room. Helen laidher hand impulsively on her lover's arm.
"Please look, Guy," she whispered. "Here she comes. Isn't shebeautiful? Why, Guy," excitedly, "do you know her? She is bowing toyou."
"Is that the woman you mean?" he asked, when he had gravely returnedher bow.
"Why, yes. Where did you ever know her?"
"I met her at Baden, when I was over there."
"How strange," said Helen musingly. "Why did you never tell me abouther?"
"Because I never liked her," he replied with decision, "and I trustyou and she will not meet."
A curiously unaccountable feeling of resentment swept across Helen.
"I don't suppose there is much chance of it," she returned coldly.
It is the unexpected that happens; for one afternoon, only a few dayslater, as Helen stood talking with some friends on the broad hotelveranda, Miss Stuart joined the group and, before Helen had hardlyappreciated the situation, an introduction had ensued.
In spite of Guy's protests a friendship sprang up between the twogirls. It seemed to him that there was something almost pointed in theway Helen ignored his request, and followed up this acquaintance, towhich he had so strenuously objected. Helen was not only fascinatedand charmed by Miss Stuart's meteor-like brilliance, but felt,moreover, the keenest annoyance at the masterful way in which Guy hadlaid his injunctions upon her. He had maintained a strict reticenceconcerning his reasons, giving her no further explanation than thatthe friendshi
p ran counter to his wishes. Helen's defiance wasaroused, and perhaps a growing sense of _ennui_ in her lover's societyincreased the temptation to welcome eagerly any new interest.
Meanwhile Miss Stuart had a well-defined motive in trying to secureHelen's friendship, and an even stronger desire to lessen Guy'sinfluence with the girl. Whatever her past acquaintance with Guy hadbeen, it would have been apparent to anyone less easily deceived thanHelen, that she bore him no good will.
The rest of the holiday time, which had begun so happily, was spoiledfor Guy, and he was relieved when at length their faces were turnedtoward home, feeling sure that a separation from Miss Stuart was allthat was necessary to awaken Helen's loyalty to him and to put an endto what he considered a most unfortunate episode in the girl's life.To his deep sorrow their return did not accomplish his expectations,for not only had a correspondence been begun between the girls, butHelen's whole bearing toward him changed completely, and her mannerwas both cold and distant. Finally, one evening, she came to him, and,after a few preliminaries, announced her intention of visiting MissStuart at her home in town. This brief announcement aroused Guy'squick temper, and before he realized what had happened, bitter wordshad been spoken, and Helen had swept out of the room.
The following day she left for town. When a week had passed without aline from her, Guy could endure it no longer and sought an interview,battling with his indignation at the thought that it must take placeunder Miss Stuart's roof.
Many a time afterward he tried to recall the exact words that werespoken on that memorable occasion, but everything seemed unreal tohim, save Helen's face, pale with the determination not to accede tohis wishes. Finally, he could recall asking her if she desired herfreedom. Alas, poor Guy! The quick spontaneity of her responseshattered his last hope.
"Ah, yes, Guy, please. We will be so much better friends, then."
"Friends!" he echoed bitterly; "after all these years."
Helen put her hand on his shoulder, but he gently pushed her from him.
"It is as well I should know the truth now as later. You do not loveme, Helen. There is nothing left now, but for us to part."
When he was leaving a sudden recollection came to him of the cause ofall this unhappiness, and crushing down his own bitterness, heendeavored in quiet and carefully chosen words to dissuade her from afriendship which he feared she would rue, but she maintained an almostunbroken silence, and the expression of her face told him that hiswarning was of no avail. So they parted.
Guy was more than justified in his distrust of Lillian Stuart. Had hebeen a man of less delicate sense of honor he could have rightedhimself in Helen's eyes by simply relating to her some incontrovertiblefacts; but the circumstances which had given him his knowledge sealedhis lips.
While at college, the name, Lillian Stuart, had grown familiar to him,through hearing her praises sounded by his chum Nelson Leonard. Theyear after their graduation they ran across each other at Baden, andtheir college friendship was resumed. Guy was not long in discoveringthat there was something radically wrong with his friend, and thecause, which all Baden apparently understood, was soon made clear tohim.
Among the most noted people frequenting Baden at this time, were aMrs. Ogden-Stuart and her beautiful daughter. It had been understoodon their arrival that Miss Stuart was engaged to the good-lookingAmerican, Mr. Leonard, who was traveling in their party. This fact,however, did not seem to stand in the way of her flirting openly withevery eligible man in the place, nor prevent her from receiving theirconstant homage. Leonard was evidently wretched, and there was a touchof recklessness in his manner, which, Guy felt, boded no good to a manof his highly strung, sensitive nature. For a week after Guy's arrivalthings drifted on, but there was something in the air that seemed toforetell a crisis. Guy had been presented to Miss Stuart, but in spiteof her beauty and fascination found nothing in her to like or respect.This Miss Stuart felt instinctively, and as she was accustomed toadmiration, it stung her into a desire to win something more thanindifference from Leonard's friend. Her efforts were totallyunsuccessful, and, as her treatment of her lover became less and lessloyal, Guy withdrew altogether from her society, showing her nofurther courtesy than an occasional bow of recognition. In themeantime Miss Stuart's latest affair, with a certain Frenchman ofunenviable reputation, was giving Baden food for gossip and keeping iton the _qui vive_ for a scandal.
Late one afternoon, while Guy sat on the veranda reading letters fromhome, Miss Stuart and Leonard passed him. The girl's face wore amocking smile, her eyes a taunt; Leonard was white as death, and hislips twitched piteously. Guy's own face grew stern as he looked up atthem, and when Miss Stuart threw him a careless word in salutation hecould scarcely frame a civil reply.
That evening Leonard went to Guy's room, and flinging himself down ina chair, gave voice for the first time to his misery.
"I tell you, Appleton," he exclaimed, with a hard laugh, "I shallthrow up the game pretty soon. I may be a coward; but it takes morecourage than I have to face this thing any longer."
Guy was more startled than he cared to reveal by his friend'spassionate, despairing vehemence; and he made an effort to treat thematter lightly and to divert Leonard's thoughts, but his efforts werenot crowned with success. When Leonard had left him he paced up anddown the room, revolving in his mind what step he should take. Atlength he determined to go to Miss Stuart, and appeal to her, hopingthat so direct a course would result favorably.
He began the interview awkwardly, feeling that his presumption wasalmost unwarrantable, but when she met his earnest plea for his friendfirst with indifference, and then with undisguised amusement, he foundhis anger rising.
"I do not think you can realize Leonard's condition of mind, MissStuart," he said darkly. "If you would only put an end to this oncefor all, I am sure that he is man enough to go away from you and tryto live down his disappointment; but he has a peculiarly excitable andsensitive temperament, and if you continue to torture him in this way,I fear you will have his death at your door."
"I am sorry to say," she replied lightly, "that our friend is a foolnow," looking up at him with a glance strangely deep and subtle, "ifhe were half the man you are----"
"I have nothing further to say," Guy interrupted, flushing withindignation and disgust, and without another word he abruptly lefther.
Two days later all Baden was shocked by the startling news that youngNelson Leonard had accidentally shot himself and was lying at thepoint of death.
Those melancholy hours of watching by Leonard's bedside, in thatdreary hotel room, lived in Guy's memory. When the doctor's sadverdict was pronounced, the dying man pleaded to be left alone withhis friend.
"Ah, dear old fellow," he said gently, when they were alone, "prettywell done--for an accident? Forgive me," he murmured, as he caught asharp look of pain in Guy's face. "Forgive----" his voice faltered,and his head fell wearily back on the pillow.
Then the poor boy's mind wandered, and Lillian Stuart's name wasconstantly on his lips. In broken, halting sentences a pitiful storyof deception and disappointment was revealed to Guy--a story whichwould be sacred to him to his life's end, and, as he listened, hiswhole soul revolted against the woman who had so willfully trifledwith this man's tender, loyal heart. Before morning dawned, NelsonLeonard's eyes had closed forever on a life which he had found toodifficult for him. When the sad affair was over, Guy would fain haveleft Baden at once, but he was obliged to await there the arrival ofLeonard's family from America.
In the days that ensued Lillian Stuart was markedly subdued, but ifshe had any suspicion of the real truth concerning Leonard's death shenever betrayed it by word or look. She did all in her power toovercome Guy's aversion for her, but he sternly repulsed her. Toattempt conciliation was a new role for Miss Stuart, and his colddisregard of all her efforts was the severest wound her vanity hadever received.
Such a slight is not readily forgiven or forgotten by a woman of hertype. So when Guy Appleton once more crossed her
path, and she found,in his deep love for Helen, his vulnerable point, she felt that herday of triumph had come.
It had been an easy task to secure Helen's friendship, and then to souse her influence with the girl as to effect the annulling of theengagement. Miss Stuart knew Guy's nature well enough to feel almostsure that, however sorely he might be tempted, he would probably neverbetray his knowledge of that unpleasant episode in her past; so,trading on the man's very uprightness, she revenged herself for thebitter sting of wounded vanity that rankled in her memory.
Her well-planned scheme had been marvelously successful, but oneunlooked-for element had entered into it; for Helen's simplicity andpurity of nature, her lack of vanity, coquetry, or duplicity, aboveall, her entire confidence and trust, had touched a tender chord inthe heart of this cold and worldly woman, and were in themselves apower so great she felt herself held by them. Could she have foreseenthe future, she would, perhaps, have struggled against this mostdisturbing element.
Guy's return to Hetherford with the announcement that his engagementwas at an end, and that he was going immediately abroad, created quitea ferment among the good people at the manor and Rose Cottage, andmany were their fruitless conjectures as to the cause of Helen'ssudden change of feeling. Across at the parsonage, happy-go-lucky Nanpuckered up her jolly face, pondered long over this vexatiousquestion, and hit at last upon the correct solution of it, but wiselykept her own counsel.
Mrs. Appleton took her son's disappointment very much to heart, andwhen Helen came home again Rose Cottage was closed and its occupantsonce more gone abroad. When the buckboard rolled by the desertedlittle place Helen drew her breath sharply, then, catching Jean'sreproachful eyes upon her, began hurriedly to speak of other things.The Lawrences frankly avowed to her their regret and disappointment,but not one word of explanation did the girl vouchsafe to them, soafter a little they accepted the inevitable, and Guy's name was nolonger spoken among them.
And thus it was that of the Lawrence girls, Helen alone had the prouddistinction of having had a genuine love affair, the memory of which,however, was tinged with deep regret, and caused her naught but pain.Perhaps she felt intuitively that she had done wrong. What was apleasant friendship compared to the love of a true man's heart? Yetthe thought of a marriage with Guy was out of the question.
So the foolish girl reasoned. Time brings many changes, however, andperhaps what once seemed to Helen a catastrophe may one day seem toopen the very gates of Paradise.
And now that we have taken a leaf from Helen's past, let us resume ourway.