"Now go!"
"But the storm!" persisted Miss Rogers, piteously. "Oh, Sally, at leastlet me stay until the storm has spent its fury!"
"Not an instant!" cried Sally Pendleton, fairly dragging her from theroom and down the corridor to the main door, which she flung open,thrust her victim through it, and out into the storm.
CHAPTER XVIII.
FATE WEAVES A STRANGE WEB.
If Sally Pendleton had taken the trouble to look out after the tremblingold woman she had thrust so unceremoniously into the raging storm, shewould not have gone up to her own room with such a self-satisfied smileon her face.
Just as that little scene was taking place, a brougham, drawn by a pairof spirited horses, was being driven rapidly down the street, and wasalmost abreast of the house as this extraordinary little drama was beingenacted.
Its occupant had ordered the driver to halt at the Pendleton mansion,and looking out of the window, he had seen with amazement the wholeoccurrence--had seen Sally Pendleton, who had always posed before him asa sweet-tempered angel--actually thrust a feeble-looking, poorly-dressedwoman out of the house and into the street to face a storm so wild andpitiless that most people would have hesitated before even turning ahomeless, wandering cur out into it.
Doctor Gardiner's carriage drew up quickly before the curbstone, and ashe sprung from the vehicle, his astonishment can better be imagined thandescribed at finding himself face to face with his friend, Miss Rogers,and that it was she who had been ejected so summarily. The poor soulalmost fainted for joy when she beheld the young physician.
"My dear Miss Rogers!" he cried in amazement, "what in the name ofHeaven does the scene I have just witnessed mean?"
"Take me into your carriage, and drive down the street; that is, if youare not in a hurry to make a professional call."
Jay Gardiner lifted the drenched, trembling woman in his strong arms,placed her in the vehicle, took his seat beside her, and the broughamrolled down the avenue.
Clinging to his strong young arm, Miss Rogers told, between her smilesand tears, all that had taken place--of the test which she had put thePendletons to before leaving her money to the girl Sally, who had beennamed after her; of its disastrous ending when she told Sally she waspoor instead of rich; of the abuse the girl had heaped upon her, whichended by throwing her into the street.
She told all, keeping back nothing, little dreaming that Jay Gardinerknew the Pendletons, and, least of all, that Sally was his betrothed.
He listened with darkening brow, his stern lips set, his handsome,jovial, laughing face strangely white.
What could he say to her? He dared not give vent to his bitter thoughts,and denounce the girl he was in honor bound to give his name and shieldfrom all the world's remarks.
"You have learned your lesson, Miss Rogers," he said, slowly. "Now becontent to return to your own luxurious home and its comforts, a sadderand wiser woman."
"I have not tested _all_ yet," she returned. "There is yet anotherfamily, whose address I have recently discovered after the most patientsearch. I had a cousin by marriage who ran off with a sea-captain. Shedied, leaving one child, a little daughter. The father no longer followsthe sea, but lives at home with the girl, following the trade ofbasket-making, at which he is quite an expert, I am told, if he wouldonly let drink alone."
Jay Gardiner started violently. The color came and went in his face, hisstrong hands trembled. He was thankful she did not notice his emotion.
"The man's name is David Moore," she went on, reflectively, "and thegirl's is Bernardine. A strange name for a girl, don't you think so?"
"A beautiful name," he replied, with much feeling; "and I should thinkthe girl who bears it might have all the sweet, womanly graces you longto find in a human being."
Miss Rogers gave him the street and number, which he knew but too well,and asked him to drive her within a few doors of the place, where shewould alight.
When she was so near her destination that she did not have time to askquestions, he said, abruptly:
"I know this family--the old basket-maker and his daughter. I attendedhim in a recent illness. They seem very worthy, to me, of allconfidence. There is a world of difference between this young girlBernardine and the one you describe as Miss Sally Pendleton. Pleasedon't mention that you know me, Miss Rogers, if you would do me afavor," he added, as she alighted.
The landing was so dark she could hardly discern where the door was onwhich to knock.
She heard the sound of voices a moment later. This sound guided her, andshe was soon tapping at a door which was slightly ajar. She heard someone say from within:
"Some one is rapping at the door, Bernardine. Send whoever it is away.The sight of a neighbor's face, or her senseless gossip, would drive mecrazy, Bernardine."
"I shall not invite any one in if it annoys you, father," answered asweet, musical voice.
Miss Rogers leaned against the door-frame, wondering what the girl waslike who had so kindly a voice.
There was the soft _frou-frou_ of a woman's skirts, the door was opened,and a tall, slender young girl stood on the threshold, lookinginquiringly into the stranger's face.
"I am looking for the home of David Moore and of his daughterBernardine," said Miss Rogers.
"This is David Moore's home, and I am his daughter Bernardine," said theyoung girl, courteously, even though the stranger before her was illyclad.
"Won't you invite me in for a few moments?" asked Miss Rogers,wistfully. "I heard what some one, your father probably, said about notwanting to see any one just now. But I can not well come again, and itis raining torrents outside."
"Yes, you may enter, and remain until the storm abates," saidBernardine, cheerfully. "My father would not let any one leave his doorin such a storm as this. Pray come in, madame."
"It is kind of you to say 'madame' to a creature like me," sighed thestranger, following the girl into the poorly furnished but scrupulouslyneat apartment.
Bernardine smiled.
"When I was very young, one of the first lessons my dear mother taughtme was to be polite to every one," she returned, quietly.
"You look like your mother, my dear," said Miss Rogers, huskily. "I--Iwas afraid you would not."
"Did you know my mother?" exclaimed Bernardine, clasping her handstogether, and looking eagerly at the stranger in the coarse, ill-fittinggown.
"Yes, my dear; I knew her years ago, when we were both young girls. Shelooked then as you do now. I was distantly related to her, in fact. I--Iwas wealthy in those days, but I have since lost all my money, and amnow reduced to penury--ay, to want," murmured the shabbily dressedwoman.
Bernardine sprung forward excitedly.
"Surely you can not be the great Miss Rogers of California, of whom Ihave heard her speak thousands of times?"
"Yes, I am Miss Rogers, my dear; great once, in the eyes of the world,when I had money, but despised now, that I am reduced and in want."
In a moment Bernardine's arms were around her, and tears were fallingfrom the girl's beautiful dark eyes.
"Oh, do not say that, dear Miss Rogers!" she cried. "_I_ love youbecause my mother loved you in the days that are past. Money does notalways bring love, and the loss of it can not lessen the love of thosewho owe us allegiance, and who have a true affection for us. Welcome, athousand times welcome to our home, dear aunt, if you will let me callyou that; and--and I shall use my influence to have father invite you toshare our humble home forever, if you only will."
"No, no, Bernardine," replied Miss Rogers. "You have mouths enough toearn bread for."
"One more would not signify," declared Bernardine; "and your presencebeneath this roof would amply compensate me. I would take a world ofpleasure in working a little harder than I do now to keep you here."
"Before you give me too much hope on that point you had better talk itover with your father. He may think differently from what you do. He maynot want to keep a tramp's boarding-house," she added, quietly.
<
br /> "Father will be sure to think as I do," reiterated Bernardine. "He has arough exterior, but the kindest of hearts beats in his rugged bosom."
"You are right there, Bernardine," said David Moore, pushing open aninner door and coming forward. "I could not help overhearing all thatpassed between you two. I am sorry you have lost all your money, MissRogers; but that will not make any difference in the heartiness of thewelcome we give you; and if Bernardine wants you to stay here with us,stay you shall. So take off your bonnet, and make yourself at home."
CHAPTER XIX.
"TRUE LOVE NEVER DOES RUN SMOOTH."
Miss Rogers was quite overcome by the hearty welcome she received fromDavid Moore, the old basket-maker, and Bernardine, his lovely daughter.It went straight to her lonely heart, because she knew it was genuinefriendship untainted by mercenary motives.
She shared Bernardine's humble yet dainty apartment, and fell quitenaturally into being a member of the household.
There was one thing which puzzled her greatly, and that was, the sighsthat would rend sweet Bernardine's breast while she was sleeping.
"The girl has some secret sorrow which she is hiding from the world,"she thought, anxiously. "I must find out what it is."
She had been an inmate of Bernardine's home for a week before shelearned that the girl was soon to be wedded. Bernardine's father toldher, hinting triumphantly that that event would mean the dawn of a moreprosperous future for the family, as her intended husband was veryrich--had money to burn.
"Don't say much about him to Bernardine," he added, quickly; "for she'snot in love with him by any means."
"Then why is she going to marry him?" asked Miss Rogers, amazedly.
"He has money," replied David Moore, nodding his head wisely; "andthat's what sharp girls are looking for nowadays."
"I thought love was the ruling power which moved young girls' hearts,"responded Miss Rogers, slowly. "At least, it used to be when I was ayoung girl like Bernardine."
He laughed uneasily, but made no reply, as Bernardine entered the roomat that instant with an open letter in her hand.
"Jasper Wilde has returned to the city, father," she said, tremulously,"and--and he is coming here this evening to see us."
As the girl uttered the words, Miss Rogers was quite sure she coulddetect the sound of tears in her quivering voice.
"I am very glad," replied David Moore, endeavoring to speak lightly. "Ishall be mighty pleased to see my prospective son-in-law."
Bernardine drew back quickly, her lovely face pitifully pale, thenturned abruptly and hurried from the room.
Miss Rogers followed her. The girl went to her own apartment, threwherself on her knees, and burying her face in the counterpane, wept suchbitter, passionate tears that Miss Rogers was alarmed for her.
"You poor child!" exclaimed Miss Rogers. "Sit down here beside me, andtell me the whole story--let me understand it."
"I can not tell you any more. I met one whom I _could_ love,and--we--parted. I sent him away because my father had declared that Ishould marry this other one."
"Because of his wealth?" said Miss Rogers, in a strangely hard voice.
"No, no! Do not do my father that injustice. It was not because of hiswealth. I--I should have had to marry him had he been the poorest man inthe city."
"It is cruel, it is outrageous, to ask a young girl to marry a man whomshe detests. It is barbarous. In my opinion, that is carrying parentalauthority too far. This marriage must not take place, Bernardine. Itwould be wicked--a sin against God."
Although Miss Rogers did her best to probe into the mystery--forBernardine's sake--the girl was strangely obdurate. So she said no moreto her on the subject just then; but when she approached David Moore onthis topic, his incoherent replies puzzled her still more.
"I am much obliged to you for taking such an interest in Bernardine'saffairs; but let me warn you of one thing, Miss Rogers, while you areunder my roof, don't attempt to meddle with what does not concern you inany way. By heeding my remark, we shall keep good friends. This marriagemust take place. The young fellow is good enough, and she'll get to likehim after awhile. See if she doesn't."
The harsh, abrupt manner in which he uttered these words told MissRogers that little hope could be entertained from that source.
Bernardine had almost cried herself ill by the time Jasper Wilde's knockwas heard on the door.
Mr. Moore answered the summons.
"Is there any use in my coming in?" asked Wilde, grimly, coming to ahalt on the threshold. "Does your daughter consent to marry me? I couldnot make head or tail out of your letter."
"Bernardine's answer is--yes," murmured the old man, almostincoherently. "She consents for _my_ sake; though Heaven knows I'm notworth the sacrifice."
"_Sacrifice!_" repeated Jasper Wilde in a high, harsh voice. "Come, now,that's too good. It's me that's making the sacrifice, by cheating thehangman and justice of their just due, Moore; and don't you forget it."
Sooner than he expected, Bernardine made her appearance.
Jasper Wilde sprung up to welcome her, both hands outstretched, his eyesfairly gloating over the vision of pure girlish loveliness which shepresented.
She drew back, waving him from her with such apparent loathing that hewas furious.
"I do not pretend to welcome you, Jasper Wilde," she said, "for thatwould be acting a lie from which my soul revolts. I will say at oncewhat you have come here to-night to hear from my lips. I will marryyou--to--save--my--poor--father," she stammered. "I used to think thedays of buying and selling human beings were over; but it seems not. Thewhite slave you buy will make no murmur in the after years; only I shallpray that my life will not be a long one."
Jasper Wilde frowned darkly.
"You are determined to play the high and mighty tragedy queen with me,Bernardine," he cried. "Take care that your ways do not turn my love foryou into hate! Beware, I tell you! A smile would bring me to your feet,a scornful curl of those red lips would raise a demon in me that youwould regret if you aroused it."
"Your hate or your love is a matter of equal indifference to me,"returned the young girl, proudly.
This remark made him furious with wrath.
"You love that white-handed fellow whom I met the last time I was here.That's what makes you so indifferent to me!" he cried, hoarsely. "Speak!Is it not so?"
"Yes," replied Bernardine, cresting her beautiful head, proudly. "Yes, Ilove him, and I do not fear to tell you so!"
"Then, by Heaven! I will kill him on sight!" cried Jasper Wilde. "I willnot brook a rival for your affections! The man you love is doomed!"
CHAPTER XX.
"IT WOULD BE WISER TO MAKE A FRIEND THAN AN ENEMY OF ME."
Bernardine Moore drew herself up to her full height, and looked thescorn she felt for the man standing before her, as he gave utterance tohis hatred of Doctor Gardiner.
"It is a coward only who threatens one who is not present to defendhimself!" she answered; adding, icily: "I imagine when you meet DoctorGardiner you will find a foeman worthy of your steel."
"You are not in the most amiable mood this evening. I hope you willreceive me more pleasantly the next time. Good-night, my beautifulsweetheart. _Au revoir_ for the present, obstinate though fairest of allsweethearts."
Ere Bernardine had time to divine his intention, he had caught her inhis arms, pressed her close to his throbbing heart, and although shestruggled all she knew how, he succeeded in covering her face, her neck,her brow with his hot, wine-tainted kisses, the while laughinghilariously as he noted how loathsome they were to the lovely younggirl.
Bernardine, with a wild shriek, broke at last from his grasp, and dashedmadly from the sitting-room to her own apartment, which she reached intime to fall fainting in Miss Rogers' arms, the sting of those bitterkisses burning her lips like flame.
As Jasper Wilde leisurely put on his hat and walked out of thesitting-room, Miss Rogers suddenly confronted him.
"I would like a word w
ith you, Jasper Wilde," she said, brusquely,barring his way.
"Who are you, and what do you want with me?" he demanded, with a harshimprecation on his lips, thinking her one of his father's tenants.
"I want to intercede with you for poor Bernardine Moore," she said,simply. "Let me plead with you to forego this marriage, which Iearnestly assure you is most hateful to her, for she loves another."
The flashing fire in his hard black eyes might have warned her that hewas an edged tool, and that it was dangerous to encounter him.
"Out of my way, you cursed old fool!" he cried, savagely; "or I'll takeyou by the neck and fling you to the bottom of the stairs!"
Miss Rogers was sorely frightened, but she nobly held her ground.
"Your bullying does not terrify me in the least, Jasper Wilde," shesaid, calmly. "I have seen such men as you before. I would have talkedwith you quietly; but since you render that an impossibility, I will endmy interview with one remark, one word of warning. Attempt to forceBernardine Moore into this hateful marriage, and it will be at yourperil. Hear me, and understand what I say: She shall never wed you!"
"I should be as big a fool as you are, woman, if I lost time bandyingwords with you!" he cried, sneeringly. "If Bernardine has deputized youto waylay me and utter that nonsensical threat, you may go back and tellher that her clever little plan has failed ignominiously. I am proofagainst threats of women."
Miss Rogers looked after him with wrathful eyes.
"If there was ever a fiend incarnate, that man is one," she muttered."Heaven help poor Bernardine if she carries out her intention ofmarrying him! He will surely kill her before the honeymoon is over! Poorgirl! what direful power has he over her? Alas! I tremble for herfuture. It would be the marriage of an angel and a devil. PoorBernardine! why does she not elope with the young lover whom she loves,if there is no other way out of the difficulty, and live for love,instead of filial duty and obedience?"