Part 4 (1/2)
”I allow that too.”
”Therefore Miss Palm is to appear unacknowledged in our house, that, through her personal qualities she may gain sympathy and consideration, until you may venture to declare the truth.”
”Miss Clifford, you have incredible penetration,” said Gustave, in the tone of deepest admiration. ”It is quite impossible to hide anything from you. Now that you have so completely seen through me, may I reckon on your support?”
The young lady a.s.sumed a very dignified manner.
”I have never yet condescended to an untruth, and would never do it if”--
She stopped, and a pa.s.sing blush tinged her cheek.
”If it were not for certain plans of my brother's,” added Gustave. ”You do not agree with them; that I saw on the day of my arrival. But just on that account you need not fear that I have any doubt as to the reasons of your confederacy. They are certainly not flattering to me, but in this instance decidedly advantageous.”
”Advantageous!” echoed Jessie, in a contemptuous tone. ”Quite right; that is sufficient for you. You fear a breach with your brother if you make a choice without his consent, and, as far as I know him, this would be the case since your choice has fallen on a poor and friendless orphan. It is certainly advantageous if you try to gain your end by circuitous means. But how much more manly it would be to go to your brother and openly declare your love, bidding defiance to his anger.
But on such points our ideas are quite opposed. Let Miss Palm know that I shall expect her. She can start immediately on receiving your letter.”
”That is not at all necessary,” replied Gustave calmly. ”I have already written to her; she is on her way, and this afternoon will arrive here.”
This was rather too strong for Jessie. She looked at the daring visitor with disdain.
”So that was already decided. You are very considerate, Mr. Sandow.”
”I reckoned on your good heart,” he a.s.sured her, with a deep bow.
”You reckoned far more on your brother's plans, which have, half against my will, made me your confederate. So be it then. I will do my best to afford you the advantage of maintaining a good understanding with your brother. As soon as your fiancee arrives, bring her to me, and for the present she shall pa.s.s as my protegee.”
And, with a very cold and distant bow, Jessie swept from the room.
Gustave looked after her with a very peculiar smile on his lips.
”Every inch contempt! But it suits her splendidly. Certainly I play a very pitiful part in the story; that, however, is nothing; if Frida can only make good her footing in the house, that is the point.”
In her room Jessie walked about in violent excitement. She was really rejoiced that the dreaded suitor should in this way prove himself perfectly harmless, and that he himself lent a hand to the destruction of the hated marriage scheme; but that did not in the least diminish her indignation at the selfishness and avarice of the man who had displayed anew all the meanness of his character. Yet he loved, this man, and apparently truly and disinterestedly. Just on the way to the wealthy, unloved bride, whom his brother had so carefully selected for him, a young, forsaken, unprotected orphan had succeeded in awakening a real affection in his heart. What hindered him, then, from introducing his chosen bride to his brother? And if Sandow really showed himself obstinate and unreasonable, he might then return with her to Germany.
He had occupied an independent position there, which would be immediately open to him again, and which would permit him to marry without the consent of his brother. But then his chance of that brother's wealth would be in jeopardy, and at any price that rich inheritance must be secured. Therefore the affianced bride must be content to play the part of a stranger, all kinds of underhand modes of gaining his end would be attempted, and a regular intrigue set on foot in order to wheedle the rich brother to consent, and if, in spite of all, he persisted in a decided refusal--and Jessie knew that her guardian, who always measured men by the length of their purses, would never welcome a poor sister-in-law--then, no doubt, the daring champion of the Ideal would choose the money, and leave the bride in the lurch, as he had already deserted his profession.
Jessie's frank and open disposition rose in rebellion against the part forced on her; yet she felt it necessary to forward this union by every means in her power. She would at any cost avoid a serious struggle with her guardian. It was to a certain extent an act of necessity if she agreed to the proposal. Should they really succeed in gaining Sandow's consent then the threatening storm would pa.s.s completely away.
It was remarkable that the one thing in Gustave's favour--his evident capacity for true love--was also the one thing most obnoxious to Jessie. She had so bitterly reproached him for yielding so unresistingly to the business calculations of his brother, and now, when she learnt that in his heart he had thwarted, and wished entirely to defeat those plans, she was more prejudiced against him than ever.
She was thoroughly convinced that this man was only worthy of contempt, and that she felt sure of always, and under all circ.u.mstances, bestowing upon him.
CHAPTER IV.
Meanwhile Gustave Sandow had mounted to the higher story, where were situated his brother's private apartments.
”I began to think you would not condescend to come at all,” was the remark, delivered in his sharpest and most unpleasant tone, with which he greeted the dilatory Gustave.
”I was talking to Miss Clifford,” replied Gustave, as if fully aware that that fact would completely justify him. ”It was impossible to break off our interesting conversation sooner.”