Part 40 (1/2)

Miss Hastings kissed the beautiful face.

”It is as I thought,” she said to herself--”in her case love has worked wonders--it has redeemed her.”

Lady Darrell sat alone in her dressing-room; the autumn day was drawing to a close. Greatly to her delight and surprise, Captain Langton had unexpectedly appeared that morning. He knew that in the absence of Miss Hastings he could not stop at Darrell Court; but he was paying a visit, he told Lady Darrell, to Sir Peter Glynn, and hoped to see her every day. He had declined dining at the Court, but promised to spend some part of the evening there.

Lady Darrell had ordered an early dinner, and sat in her dressing-room awaiting her maid. Of course she was going to dress for the captain--to set off her delicate beauty to the greatest advantage. A superb costume of pale pink brocade, with rich tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of white lace, was ready for her. A suit of pearls and opals lay in their open cases. The room presented a picturesque appearance of unbounded and splendid confusion--lace, jewelry, fans, slippers, all kinds of valuable and pretty ornaments were there; but nothing in that room was one half so fair as the beautiful woman who sat with a pleased smile upon her face.

Yet there was something like a sigh on her lips. Did he love her? Of her own feelings she had no doubt. She loved him with her whole heart--as she had never imagined herself capable of loving any one. But did he love her? There was somewhat of coldness and indifference in his manner--something she could not understand. He had greeted her carelessly--he had bidden her a careless farewell, she said to herself.

Yet he must love her; for the face reflected in the mirror was a very fair one.

Then she remembered Pauline, and the old wonder came over her why Pauline had always such great, such unbounded contempt for him.

Her maid came in, and Lady Darrell put on the pink brocade with its white lace tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. The maid, in ecstasies, cried out that it was superb--that ”my lady” had ”never looked so beautiful.”

Lady Darrell took up the pearl necklace and held it against the pink brocade to note the contrast. While she held it in her hands one of the servants gave a hurried rap at the door. She came to announce that Miss Darrell had arrived suddenly, and wished to see Lady Darrell at once.

”Miss Darrell! Then something must be the matter with Miss Hastings. Ask her to come to me at once.”

In a few moments Pauline was standing in that brilliant room, looking pale and anxious.

”No,” she said, in answer to Lady Darrell's eager question; ”there is nothing the matter with Miss Hastings. I wanted to see you; I want to see you alone. Can you spare a few minutes?”

Lady Darrell dismissed her maid, and then turned to Pauline.

”What is it?” she asked. ”What has brought you here so suddenly?”

Without one word, Pauline went to the door and locked it, and then she went back to Lady Darrell, who was watching her in wonder.

”I have done you a great wrong,” she said, humbly, ”and I have come to atone for it.”

Lady Darrell drew back, trembling with strange, vague fear.

”Oh, Pauline, Pauline, what have you done?”

Pauline threw aside her traveling cloak and took off her hat; and then she came to Lady Darrell.

”Let me tell you my story, kneeling here,” she said; and she knelt down before Lady Darrell, looking as she spoke straight into her face. ”Let me tell you before I begin it,” she added, ”that I have no excuse to offer for myself--none. I can only thank Heaven that I have seen my fault before--for your sake--it is too late.”

Slowly, gravely, sometimes with bitter tears and with sobs that came from the depths of her heart, Pauline told her story--how the captain had loved her, how ill he had taken her repulse, how she had discovered his vile worthlessness, but for the sake of her revenge had said nothing.

Lady Darrell listened as to her death-knell.

”Is this true, Pauline?” she cried. ”You vowed vengeance against me--is this your vengeance, to try to part me from the man I love, and to take from me the only chance of happiness that my wretched life holds?”

Her fair face had grown deadly pale; all the light and the happiness had fled from it; the pearls lay unheeded, the blue eyes grew dim with tears.

”Is it possible, Pauline?” she cried again. ”Have I given my love to one dishonored? I cannot believe it--I will not believe it! It is part of your vengeance against me. What have I done that you should hate me so?”