Part 35 (1/2)
”Don't speak in that sarcastic manner. It does not sound respectable to one's guardian.”
She was growing paler, and all her old aversion to him was legible in her countenance.
”Let us be friends. Try to be a patient, cheerful girl.”
”Patient,--I will try. Cheerful,--no, no, not here! How can I be happy in this house? Am I a brute, or a stone? Oh! I wish I could have died with my dear, dear Mr. Hargrove, that calm night when he went to rest for ever while I sang!”
One by one the tears stole over her long lashes, and rolled swiftly down her cheeks.
”Will you tell me the circ.u.mstances of his death?”
”Please do not ask me now. It would bring back all the sad things that began when Mr. Lindsay left me. Everything was so bright until then,--until he went away. Since then nothing but trouble, trouble.”
A frown clouded the lawyer's brow; then with a half smile he asked:
”Of the two ministers, who did you love best? Mr. Hargrove, or the young missionary?”
”I do not know, both were so n.o.ble, good, and kind; and both are so very dear to me. Mr. Palma, please let go my hand; you hurt me.”
”Pardon me! I forgot I held it.”
He opened his hands, and, looking down at the almost childish fingers, saw that his seal ring had pressed heavily upon, and reddened the soft palm.
”I did not intend to bruise you so painfully, but in some respects you are such a tender little thing, and I am only a harsh, selfish strong man, and hurt you without knowing it. One word more, before I send you off to sleep. Olga has the most kindly ways, and really the most affectionate heart under this roof of mine, and she will do all she can for your comfort and happiness. Be respectful to Mrs. Palma, and she shall meet you half way. This is as you say the most attractive room in the house, this is exclusively and especially mine; but at all times, whether I am absent, or present, you must consider yourself thoroughly welcome, and recollect, all it contains in the book line is at your service. To-morrow I will talk with you about your studies, and examine you in some of your text-books. _A propos!_ I take my breakfast alone, before the other members of the family are up, and unless you choose to rise early and join me at the seven o'clock table, you need not be surprised if you do not see me until dinner, which is usually at half-past six. If you require anything that has not been supplied in your room, do not hesitate to ring and order it. Try to feel at home.”
”Thank you, sir.”
She moved a few steps, and he added:
”Do not imagine that Hero is suffering all the torments painted in Dante's 'Inferno'; but go to sleep like a good child, and accept my a.s.surance that he is resting quite comfortably. When I came home, I took a light, went out and examined his kennel; found him liberally provided with food, water, bed, every accommodation that even your dog, which all New York can't buy, could possibly wish. Good-night, little one. Don't dream that I am Blue Beard or Polyphemus.”
”Good-night, Mr. Palma.”
CHAPTER XV.
”Mrs. Orme, I am afraid you will overtax your strength. You seem to forget the doctor's caution.”
”No, I am not in the least fatigued, and this soft fresh air and suns.h.i.+ne will benefit me more than all the medicine in your ugly vials. Mrs. Waul, recollect that I have been shut up for two months in a close room, and this change is really delicious.”
”You have no idea how pale you look.”
”Do I? No wonder, bleached as I have been in a dark house. I daresay you are tired, and I insist that you sit yonder under the trees, and rest yourself while I stroll a little farther. No, keep the shawl, throw it around your own shoulders, which seem afflicted with a chronic chill. Here is a New York paper; feast on American news till I come back.”
Upon a seat in the garden of the Tuileries Mrs. Orme placed her grey-haired Duenna attendant, and gathering her black-lace drapery about her turned away into one of the broad walks that divided the flower-bordered lawns.
Thin, almost emaciated, she appeared far taller than when last she swept across the stage, and having thrown back her veil, a startling and painful alteration was visible in the face that had so completely captivated fastidious Paris.
Pallid as Mors, the cheeks had lost their symmetrical oval, were hollow, and under the sunken eyes clung dusky circles that made them appear unnaturally large, and almost Dantesque in their mournful gleaming. Even the lips seemed shrunken, changed in their cla.s.sic contour; and the ungloved hand that clasped the folds of lace across her bosom was wasted, wan, diaphanous.