Part 9 (1/2)

She was thinking of the matter, and of the impossibility that she should ever marry Loris, when a box of flowers was brought--one left by a messenger, who said nothing of whence they came, and no name or card attached suggested the sender.

”For Maman,” decided the Marquise promptly.

But Madame Blanc thought not.

”You, Madame, are the Marquise.”

”Oh, true! but the people who would send me flowers would not be so certain their own names would not be forgotten. I have no old, tried, and silent friends to remember me so.”

While she spoke she was lifting out the creamy and blush-tinted roses; Maman should see them arranged in the prettiest vase, they must go up with the chocolate--she would take it herself!

So she chattered while Madame Blanc arranged the tray. But suddenly the chatter ceased. The Marquise had lifted out the last of the roses, and under the fragrant screen lay the cause of the sudden silence.

It was a few sprays of dew-wet forget-me-nots! Her heart seemed to stop beating.

Forget-me-not! there was but one person who had any a.s.sociation in her mind with that flower. Did this have a meaning relating to him? or was it only chance?

She said nothing to Madame Blanc about the silent message in the bottom of the box.

All that day she moved as in a dream. At times she was oppressed by the terror of discovery, and again it was with a rebellious, delicious feeling of certainty that he had not forgotten! He had searched for her--found her! She meant to ignore him if they should meet; certainly she must do that! His a.s.surance in daring to--yet--yes, she rather liked the daring--still----!

She remembered some one saying that impertinence gained more favors from women than respect, and he--yes, certainly he was impertinent; she must never recognize him, of course--never! Her cheek burned as she fancied what he must think of her--a girl who made friends with strangers in the park! Yet she was glad that since he had not let her forget, he also had been forced to remember.

She told herself all this, and much more; the task occupied so much of her time that she forgot to go asleep that night, and she saw the morning star s.h.i.+ne out of the blue haze beyond the city, and it belonged to a dawn with a meaning entirely its own. Never before or after was a daybreak so beautiful. The sun wheeled royally into view through the atmosphere of her first veritable love romance.

CHAPTER VI.

Even the card of Lieutenant McVeigh could not annoy her that morning.

He came with some message to the dowager from his mother. At any other time the sound of his name would have made a discord for her. The prejudices of Judithe were so decided, and so independent of all accepted social rules, that the dowager hoped when she did choose a husband he would prove a diplomat--they would need one in the family.

”Madame Blanc, will you receive the gentleman?” she asked. ”Maman has not yet left her room, and I am engaged.”

And for the second time the American made his exit from the Caron establishment without having seen the woman his friends raved about.

Descending the steps he remembered the old saw that a third attempt carried a charm with it. He smiled, and the smile suggested that there would be a third attempt.

The Marquise looked at the card he left, and her smile had not so much that was pleasant in it.

”Maman, my conjecture was right,” she remarked as she entered the room of the dowager; ”your fine, manly American was really the youth of my Carolina story.”

”Carolina story?” and the dowager looked bewildered for a moment; when one has reached the age of eighty years the memory fails for the things of today; only the affairs of long ago retain distinctness.

”Exactly; the man for whom Rhoda Larue was educated, and of whom you forbade me to speak--the man who bought her from Matthew Loring, of Loringwood, Carolina.”

”You are certain?”

”Here is the name, Kenneth McVeigh. It is not likely there are two Kenneth McVeighs in the same region. How small the world is after all!

I used to fancy the width of the ocean was as a barrier between two worlds, yet it has not prevented these people from crossing, and coming to our door!”

She sank into a seat, the card still in her hand.