Part 31 (1/2)
”Of course no one hears, but it is best never to allow yourself the habit of referring to family or personal affairs. Even though we speak a language not generally understood in this country, do not--even to me--speak of your race. I know all, understand it all, without words; and, for the people we have met, they do not doubt you are a San Domingo Creole. You must be careful lest they think differently.”
”You are right; what a fool I am! My tongue ever runs ahead of my wit.
Marquise, sometimes I laugh when I remember how capable I thought myself on leaving Paris, what great things I was to do--I!” and she shrugged her plump shoulders in self derision. ”Why, I should have been discovered a dozen times had I depended on my own wit. I am a good enough orderly, but only under a capable general,” and she made a smiling courtesy to the Marquise.
”Chatterbox! If I am the general of your distinguished selection, I shall issue an order at once for your immediate retirement.”
”Oh, Marquise!”
”To bed,” concluded her mistress, gayly, ”go; I shall not need you. I have work to do.”
The girl first unlaced the dark boots and subst.i.tuted a pair of soft pink slippers, and touched her cheek to the slender foot.
”I shall envy the maid who does even that for you when I am gone,” she said, softly. ”Now, good rest to you, my general, and pleasant dreams.”
”Thanks; but my dreams are never formidable nor important,” was the teasing reply as the maid vanished. The careless smile gave way to a quick sigh of relief as the door closed. She arose and walked back and forth across the room with nervous, rapid steps, her hands clasped back of her head and the wide sleeves of the robe slipped back, showing the perfect arms. She seemed a trifle taller than when in Paris that first springtime, and the open robe revealed a figure statuesque, perfect as a sculptor's ideal, yet without the statue's coldness; for the uncovered throat and bosom held delicious dimples where the robe fell apart and was swept aside by her restless movements.
But her own appearance was evidently far from her thoughts at that moment. Several of Mrs. McVeigh's very affectionate words and glances had recurred to her and brought her a momentary restlessness. It was utterly absurd that it should be so, especially when she had encouraged the fondness, and meant to continue doing so. But she had not counted on being susceptible to the same feeling for Kenneth McVeigh's mother--yet she had come very near it, and felt it necessary to lay down the limits as to just how far she would allow such a fondness to lead her.
And the fact that she was in the home of her one-time lover gave rise to other complex fancies. How would they meet if chance should send him there during her stay? He had had time for many more such boyish fancies since those days, and back of them all was the home sweetheart she heard spoken of so often--Gertrude Loring.
How very, very long ago it seemed since the meetings at Fontainbleau; what an impulsive fool she had been, and how childish it all seemed now!
But Judithe de Caron told herself she was not the sort of person to allow memories of bygone sentiment to interfere for long with practical affairs. She drew up a chair to the little stand by the window and plunged into the work she had spoken of, and for an hour her pen moved rapidly over the paper until page after page was laid aside.
But after the last bit of memoranda was completed she leaned back, looking out into the blue mists of the night--across his lands luxuriant in all the beauty of summer time and moonlight, the fields over which he had ridden, the trees under which he had walked, with, perhaps, an occasional angry thought of her--never dreaming that she, also, would walk there some day.
”But to think that I _am_ actually here--here above all!” she murmured softly. ”Maman, once I said I would be Judithe indeed to that man if he was ever delivered into my hands. Yet, when he came I ran away from him--ran away because I was afraid of him! But now--”
Her beautiful eyes half closed in a smile not mirthful, and the sentence was left unfinished.
CHAPTER XVIII.
What embraces, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns and caresses, when Evilena, accompanied by Pluto and the delighted Raquel, arrived at the Terrace next morning!
Judithe, who saw from the veranda the rapturous meeting of mother and daughter, sighed, a quick, impatient catching of the breath, and turned to enter the library through the open French windows.
Reconsidering her intention, she halted, and waited at the head of the broad steps where Kenneth's sister saw her for the first time and came to her with a pleased, half shy greeting, and where Kenneth's mother slipped one arm around each as they entered the house, and between the two she felt welcomed into the very heart of the McVeigh family feminine.
”Oh, and mama!”--thus exclaimed Evilena as she was comfortably ensconced in the same chair with that lady--”there is so much news to tell you I don't know where to begin. But Gertrude sends love--please don't go, Madame Caron--I am only going to talk about the neighbors.
And they are all coming over very soon, and the best of all is, Gertrude has at last coaxed Uncle Matthew (a roguish grimace at the t.i.tle) to give up Loringwood entirely and come to the Pines. And Dr.
Delaven--he's delightful, mama, when he isn't teasing folks--he strongly advises them to make the change soon; and, oh, won't you ask them all over for a few weeks until the Pines is ready? And did you hear about two of their field hands running off? Well, they did. Scip and Aleck; isn't it too bad? and Mr. Loring doesn't know it yet, no one dares tell him; and Masterson's Cynthia had a boy run off, too, and went to the Yankees, they suppose. And old Nelse he got scared sick at a ghost last night while they were 'possum hunting. And, oh, mama, have you heard from Ken?--not a word has come here, and he never even saw Gertrude over there. He must be powerful busy if he could not stop long enough to hunt friends up and say 'howdy.'”
”Lena, Lena, child!” and the mother sank back in her chair, laughing.
”Have they enforced some silent system of existence on you since I have been down at Mobile? I declare, you fairly make my head swim with your torrent of news and questions. Judithe, does not this young lady fulfill the foreign idea of the American girl--a combination of the exclamation and interrogation point?”
Evilena stopped further criticism by kisses.
”I will be good as goodness rather than have Madame Caron make up her mind I am silly the very first day,” she promised, ”but, oh, mama, it _is_ so good to have you to talk to, and so delightful of Madame to come with you”--this with a swift, admiring side glance at their visitor--”and, altogether, I'm just in love with the world today.”
Later she informed them that Judge Clarkson would probably drive over that evening, as he was going to Columbia or Savannah--she had forgotten which--and had to go home first. He would have come with her but for a business talk he wanted to have, if Mr. Loring was able, this morning.