Part 19 (2/2)
”OH, G.o.d! I KNEW IT! YOU ARE--ISABEL!”
With a somewhat reluctant air, Emil Correlli offered his arm to his sister and led her toward the woman around whom a group of distinguished people had gathered, and whom she was entertaining with an ease and grace that proclaimed her perfectly at home among the _creme de la creme_ of society.
She appeared not to perceive the approach of her hostess and her brother, but continued the animated conversation in which she was engaged.
A special observer, however, would have noticed the peculiar fire which began to burn in her beautiful eyes.
When Mr. Correlli presented his sister, she turned with fascinating grace, making a charming acknowledgment, although she did not offer her hostess her hand.
”You are very welcome, Mrs. Stewart,” Mrs. G.o.ddard remarked, in response to some words of apology for being a guest in the house without a previous acquaintance. ”I only regret that we have not met before.”
”Thanks; I, too, deplore the complication of circ.u.mstances which has prevented an earlier meeting,” was the sweet-voiced response.
But there was a peculiar shading in the remark which, somehow, grated harshly upon Anna G.o.ddard's ears and nerves.
”Who is she, anyhow?” she questioned within herself with a strange feeling of unrest and perplexity. ”I never even heard of her until after Emil came; yet there is something about her that makes me feel as if we had met in some other sphere.”
She stole a searching glance at the woman's face, only to find her great, luminous eyes fastened upon her with an equally intent gaze.
”Ah!” and with this voiceless e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and a great inward start, some long dormant memory seemed suddenly to have been aroused within her.
There was an instant of awkwardness; then madam, who seldom allowed anything to disturb her self-possession, remarked:
”I am sorry, Mrs. Stewart, that you did not arrive earlier to witness our little play.”
But while she was giving utterance to this polite regret, she was saying to herself:
”Yes, there certainly is a look about her that reminds me of--Ugh!
She may possibly be a relative, or the resemblance may be merely a coincidence. All the same, I shall not like her any the better for recalling that horror to me.”
”Thank you,” Mrs. Stewart replied; ”no doubt I should have enjoyed it, especially as, I am told, it was original with you and terminated in a real and very pretty wedding.”
”Yes; my brother finds that he must leave the city earlier than he antic.i.p.ated; and, as he was anxious to take his bride with him, he chose this opportunity to celebrate his marriage, and to introduce his wife to our friends.”
”Ah! I did not even know that Monsieur Correlli was contemplating matrimony. Who is the favored lady of his choice?” Mrs. Stewart inquired.
”A Miss Edith Allen.”
”Edith Allen!” repeated the beautiful stranger, with a start.
”Yes,” said Mrs. G.o.ddard, regarding her with surprise, but unmixed with anxiety. ”Did you ever meet her?”
”Is she very fair and lovely, with golden hair and deep-blue eyes, a tall, slender figure, and charming manners?” eagerly questioned Mrs.
Stewart.
”Yes, you have described her exactly,” answered madam, yet secretly more disturbed than before; ”but I am surprised that you should know her, for she has been in the city only a short time, and I did not suppose she had made a single acquaintance outside the family.”
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