CHAPTER XVII.
LOVE IS BITTER AND THE WHOLE WORLD GOES WRONG WHEN TWO LOVERS PART INANGER FOREVER.
We must return to our beautiful heroine, little Jessie Bain.
When she turned her face from the Varrick mansion toward the cold anddesolate world, the girl's very heart seemed to stop still in her bosom.
Jessie Bain knew little of traveling--she had not the least idea how toget to her uncle's, although she had made that trip once before. Shewalked one street after the other in the vain hope of finding the depot.At last, fairly exhausted, she found herself just outside the entranceto Central Park.
Jessie entered the park, and sunk down on the nearest seat.
Among those sauntering past in the crowd was a tall, broad-shoulderedyoung man, who stopped abruptly as his bold black eyes fell upon thelovely young face.
"Heavens! what a beauty!" he muttered, stopping short, under thepretense of lighting a cigarette, and watching her covertly from underhis dark brows.
Seating himself unconcernedly on the further end of the bench, thestranger continued to watch Jessie, who had not even the slightestintimation of his presence.
He waited until the crowd thinned out, until only an occasionalstraggler passed by; then he edged nearer the pretty little creature.
"Ahem!" he began, with a slight cough. After several ineffectualattempts to attract her attention in this way, the stranger spoke toher.
"A lovely day, isn't it?" he remarked.
"Are you speaking to me, sir?" asked Jessie Bain, in great displeasure.
"I am indeed so bold," he answered. "May I hope that you are notoffended with me for so doing, for I have a fancy to know such a prettyyoung girl as yourself."
"I am offended!" cried Jessie Bain, indignantly. "I always supposedbefore this that people could sit down in a public park without beingmolested; but it seems not; so I shall move on!"
"So young, so beautiful, but so unkind," murmured the stranger, in amelo-dramatic voice.
"I can not think that we are strangers. I must have seen you somewhere,believe me," he went on, rising suddenly and walking close by her sideas she started down the path.
Jessie was now thoroughly frightened. She uttered a little, shrill cry.
"What are you doing that for?" hissed the man, clutching her arm. "Youwill have the police after us. Walk along quietly beside me, you littlefool; I have something to say to you."
Terrified, Jessie only cried the louder and shriller, wrenching her armfree from the stranger's grasp.
At that instant a young man, who had happened along, and who had heardthe cry, sprang with alacrity to the young girl's rescue.
"What is the matter?" he cried. "Is this fellow annoying you?"
Jessie knew the voice at once, and sprang forward. She had recognizedthe voice of the young architect.
"Oh, save me--save me!" she cried.
Even before she had time to utter a word the young man had recognizedJessie Bain; and that very instant the man who had dared thus annoy herwas measuring his full length on the grass, sent there by the youngarchitect's vigorous arm.
"I will have your life for this!" yelled the fellow, as he pickedhimself up, but taking good care to keep well out of the reach of theyoung girl's defender.
"What in the world are you doing in the park, and so far away from home,Miss Jessie?" Moray, the young architect, asked.
Her lips quivered and her eyes filled with sudden tears.
"Varrick Place isn't home to me any longer, Mr. Moray," she sobbed. "Ihave just left it to-day--left it forever. I wish I had never seen theplace. It has caused me no end of sorrow."
"I do not wish to pry into any of your affairs," he said, gently, as hetook her hand and walked slowly down the path with her; "but if you willconfide in me and tell me why you left, I might be able to help you."
Little by little he drew from the girl the whole terrible story, untilshe had told him all.
Frank Moray's indignation knew no bounds. He could hardly restrainhimself from ejaculations of anger.
"Of course, if you have friends, it would ill become me to persuade younot to go to them; but if you ask my advice, I would say: remain herefor a little while and look about you. Come home with me. I have a dearold mother who will receive you with open arms. My cousin Annabel, too,will be glad to welcome you. Come home and talk to mother and let heradvise you what to do. Will you come with me, Miss Jessie?"
The girl was only too glad to assent.
When Jessie had finished her story, the impulse was strong within theyoung architect's breast to ask the girl to marry him, then and there.
He had never ceased caring for her from the first moment he had seen herpretty face. But he told himself that it would seem too much like takingan unfair advantage to say anything of love or marriage to her now.
Mrs. Moray received the stranger with motherly kindness.
"I have heard my son speak of you so often that I feel as though I werewell acquainted with you," she said, untying the girl's bonnet andremoving her mantle.
"Come here, Annabel, my dear," she said, turning to a young girl who satin a little low rocker by the sewing machine, "and welcome Miss Bain."
A slim, slight girl, in a jaunty blue cloth dress edged with white,rose and came curiously forward, extending a little brown hand toJessie.
"I am very glad to see you, Miss Bain," she said; "for Frank has talkedof you so much."
"Won't you please call me Jessie?" returned the other. "No one has evercalled me Miss Bain before."
"Nothing would please me better," returned Annabel.
They spent a very pleasant evening, and then Annabel took Jessie off toher room with her for the night.
Long after the two girls had retired Mrs. Moray and her son sat talkingthe matter over, and it was not long before Mrs. Moray discovered thather boy was deeply in love with pretty Jessie Bain.
Of course, like himself, she felt perfectly sure that the girl wasentirely innocent of what she had been accused of by Mrs. Varrick.
But the very idea of the theft sent a thrill of horror through herheart. She must discourage her son's love for the girl, for she wouldrather see him dead and buried than wedded to one upon whose fair nameever so slight a stain rested. She said to herself that the girl's staybeneath their cottage roof must be cut as short as possible.
It was decided that Jessie Bain should remain at the cottage of theMorays until she had ample time to write to her uncle and receive hisreply.
Jessie mailed her letter before she went to sleep that night. Annabeleasily dropped off to slumber, but it was not so with Jessie; for hadnot this been the most eventful day of her life?
How she wished Mrs. Varrick had not exacted a promise from her that shewould never again hold any communication with her son Hubert! Would hebelieve her guilty when he returned home and his mother told him allthat had transpired?
She could imagine the horror on his face as he listened; and thisthought was so bitter to Jessie that she cried herself to sleep over it.
The third day of her stay a letter from her uncle came to her. Hercousin was married and gone away, he wrote, and he would be only tooglad to forget and forgive by-gones.
Two days later, Frank Moray saw her safely on the train which would takeher as far as Clayton, where her uncle promised to meet her.
"If I write to you sometimes, will you answer my letters, littleJessie?" asked Frank Moray, as he found her a seat in a well-crowdedcar, and bent over her for the last glance into the girl's beautiful,wistful face.
"Yes," she answered, absently.
For a moment his hand closed over hers; he looked at her with his wholesoul in his honest eyes, then he turned and quickly left her.
He stood on the platform and watched her sweet face at the window untilthe train was out of sight, then he moved slowly away.
Jessie stared hard through the window, but she never saw any of thescenes through which she was whirling so rapidly. Her thoughts w
ere withHubert Varrick.
It was dusk when she reached her destination, and according to hispromise her uncle was at the depot to meet her.
It was with genuine joy that he hurried forward to greet the girl,though they had parted but a few short months ago in such bitter anger.
"I am glad to get you back again, little Jessie," he declared, eagerly;"and, as I wrote to you, we will let by-gones be by-gones, little girl,and forget the past unpleasantness between us by wiping it out of ourminds as though it had never been. I missed you awfully, little one, andI've had a lonesome time of it since your cousin went away. Home isn'thome to a man without a neat little woman about to tidy things up a bitand make it cheerful."
How good it seemed to Jessie to have some one speak so kindly to her! Hewas plain and homely, and coarse of speech, but he was the only being inthe whole wide world who really cared for her and offered her a shelterin this her hour of need. But how desolate the place was, with itslittle old-fashioned, low-ceiling kitchen, the huge fire-place on oneside, the cupboard on the other, whose chintz curtains were drawn back,revealing the rows of cups and saucers and pile of plates of blue china,more cracked and nicked than ever, and the pine table, with itsoil-cloth cover, and the old rag mat in the center of the floor!
The girl's heart sank as she looked around.
Could she make this place her home again? Its very atmosphere, redolentwith tobacco smoke and the strong odor of vegetables, took her breathaway.
Ah! it was very hard for this girl, whose only fortune was a dower ofpoverty, and who had had a slight taste of wealth and refinement, tocome back to the old life again and fall into the drudgery of otherdays.
She could not refuse her uncle when he pleaded to know where she wentand where she had been since the night he had driven her, in his madfrenzy, out into the world.
He listened in wonder. The girl's story almost seemed like a fairy taleto him. But as he listened to the ending of it--surely the saddest storythat ever was told by girlish lips--of how she had left the Varrickmansion, and of what Mrs. Varrick had accused her of doing, his rageknew no bounds.
"You might have known how it would all turn out!" he cried. "A poorlittle field wren has no business in the gilded nest of the goldeneagle! You are at home again, little one. Think no more of thosepeople!"
How little he realized that this was easier said than done. Where one'sheart is, there one's thoughts are also.
The neighbors flocked in to see her. Every one was glad to have pretty,saucy Jessie Bain back once more. But there was much mystery and silentspeculation as to where she had been.
The girls of the neighborhood seemed to act shy of her. Even her oldcompanions nodded very stiffly when they met her, and walked on theother side of the street when they saw her coming.
The antagonism of the village girls was never so apparent until theusual festivities of the autumn evenings approached.
It was the custom of the village maidens of Alexandria Bay toinaugurate the winter sports by giving a Halloween party, and every onelooked forward to this with the wildest anticipation.
Jessie Bain had always been the moving spirit at these affairs, despitethe fact that they were generally held in the homes of some of thewealthier girls, their houses being larger and more commodious.
The party, which was to be on a fine scale this year, was now the talkof the little town.
But much to the sorrow and the amazement of Jessie Bain, day by dayrolled by without bringing her the usual invitation.
It wanted but two days now to the all-important party. Jessie had gottenher dress ready for the occasion, thinking that at the last moment someof the girls would come in person and invite her. Not that she cared somuch for the fun, after all, but her uncle was anxious that she shouldgo more among the young folks, as she used to do. It was simply toplease him that she would mingle among the crowd of youths and maidens.
At last the day of the Halloween party rolled round.
"Well," said her uncle, as he sat down to the breakfast table and waitedfor her to set on the morning meal, "I suppose you're getting all yourfixings ready to have a big time with the young folks to-night?"
Before she could answer, there was the postman's whistle at the door. Hehanded in a large, thick letter, and it was addressed to Jessie Bain.
Jessie turned the letter over and over, looking in wonder at thesuperscription. The envelope contained something else besides theletter--a newspaper clipping. This Jessie put on the table to look overafter she had finished the letter. It was a bright, newsy epistle,brimming over with kindly wishes for her happiness, and ending with ahope that the writer might see her soon.
"Who is it from?" asked her uncle.
The girl dutifully read it out for him.
"He seems to be a right nice young man, and quite taken up with you,little Jess," he said, laughingly.
He saw by the distressed look on her face that this idea did not pleaseher.
"He would have to be a mighty nice fellow to get my consent to marryyou, my lass."
"Do not fear, uncle," she said; "you will never be called upon to giveyour consent to that. He is very nice indeed, but not such a one as Icould give my heart to, I assure you."
"Then let me give you a word of advice; don't encourage him by writingletters to him. But isn't there another part of the letter on the tableyonder you haven't read yet?"
"I had almost forgotten it," returned Jessie.
One glance as she spread it out at full length, then her face grew whiteas death.
"Bless me! I shall be late!" declared her uncle, putting on his hat andhurrying from the room.
She never remembered what he said as he passed out of the room. Herheart, ay, her very soul, was engrossed in the printed lines before her.
In startling headlines she read the words:
"A NOTABLE MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE--MR. HUBERT VARRICK AND MISS NORTHRUPWEDDED AT LAST."
Then followed an account of the grand ceremony; of a mansion decoratedwith roses; a description of the marriage; the elaboratewedding-breakfast served in a perfect bower of orchids and ferns; andthen the names of the guests, who numbered nearly a thousand.
Jessie Bain never finished the article. With a bitter cry she fell facedownward on the floor in a deep swoon.
It was an hour or more ere she returned to consciousness. With tremblinghands the girl tore the newspaper clipping into a thousand shreds, lesther eyes should ever fall on it again.
"He is married--married!" she murmured; and the words seemed to falllike ice upon her heart.
How strange it seemed! She remembered but too well the last time she hadlooked upon his face.
Captain Carr did not come home for supper, and one of the neighboringwomen dropped in to tell Jessie that he might not get home until farinto the night, for there had been a terrible accident on the river theevening before, and his services were needed there.
Night came on, darkness settled down over the world; then one by one thestars came out, and a full moon rose clear and bright in the heavens.
The sound of far-off strains of music and the echo of girlish laughtersuddenly fell upon her ears. Then it occurred to her that it must benear midnight, that her companions of other days were in the midst oftheir Halloween games in the big house on the hill.
Only the little brook at the rear of her uncle's garden separated thegrounds. Some subtle instinct which she could not follow drew Jessie'ssteps to the brook.
The moon for a moment was hidden behind a cloud, but suddenly it burstforth clear and bright in all its glory. For one brief instant the heartin her bosom seemed to stand still.
Was she mad, or did she dream? Was it the figure of a man picking hisway over the smooth white rocks that served as stepping-stones acrossthe shallow stream, and coming directly toward her?
Midway he paused, and looked toward the cottage and the light which shealways placed in the window. Then the moon shone full upon his face, andJessie Bain looked at him with eyes th
at fairly bulged from theirsockets. His features were now clearly visible in the bright moonlight.It was Hubert Varrick in the flesh, surely, or his wraith!
In that first rapid glance she seemed to live an age; then, for thesecond time that day, a merciful unconsciousness seized her.
It was gray dawn when she regained her senses and crept back,terror-stricken, to the house.
Was it the idle fancy of her own vivid imagination, or did she reallysee the image of Hubert Varrick confronting her by the brook as themidnight bells of All-Halloween rang out slowly and solemnly on thecrisp, chilly night air?
"I must be going mad--my brain must be turning," thought the girl,shivering in every limb as she walked slowly back to the house.
The sun was up high in the heavens ere her uncle returned.
"Such a time as we've had, lass!" he cried, throwing down his cap. "Asteamer was wrecked the night before last, and all day yesterday and alllast night we were busy doing our utmost for the poor creatures whobarely escaped with their lives. We saved a good many who were in thewater for many hours, holding on to planks or life-preservers, and thereare many lost. It was the steamer 'St. Lawrence,' heavily laden, thatwas to have connected with the boat for Montreal, for which most of thepassengers were bound. There is one woman whom they are bringing here. Icame on ahead to have you prepare a bed for her. Every house has beencalled upon to give shelter to some one. It will make you a little morework, lass, but it will only be for a little while."
"I shall be glad of the work, for it will occupy my time and attention,"declared Jessie.
She had scarcely uttered the words ere the men were seen approachingwith their burden. They brought the woman in and placed her on Jessie'slittle cot.
"Oh, how beautiful she is!" murmured Jessie, little dreaming who it wasthat she was sheltering beneath that roof.