That Affair Next Door

  XXIII.

  RUTH OLIVER.

  From Mrs. Desberger's I rode immediately to Miss Althorpe's, for thepurpose of satisfying myself at once as to the presence there of theunhappy fugitive I was tracing.

  Six o'clock Sunday night is not a favorable hour for calling at a younglady's house, especially when that lady has a lover who is in the habitof taking tea with the family. But I was in a mood to transgress allrules and even to forget the rights of lovers. Besides, much is forgivena woman of my stamp, especially by a person of the good sense andamiability of Miss Althorpe.

  That I was not mistaken in my calculations was evident from the greetingI received. Miss Althorpe came forward as graciously and with as littlesurprise in her manner as any one could expect under the circumstances,and for a moment I was so touched by her beauty and the unaffected charmof her manners that I forgot my errand and only thought of the pleasureof meeting a lady who fairly comes up to the standard one has secretlyset for one's self. Of course she is much younger than I--some say sheis only twenty-three; but a lady is a lady at any age, and EllaAlthorpe might be a model for a much older woman than myself.

  The room in which we were seated was a large one, and though I couldhear Mr. Stone's voice in the adjoining apartment, I did not fear tobroach the subject I had come to discuss.

  "You may think this intrusion an odd one," I began, "but I believe youadvertised a few days ago for a young lady-companion. Have you beensuited, Miss Althorpe?"

  "O yes; I have a young person with me whom I like very much."

  "Ah, you are supplied! Is she any one you know?"

  "No, she is a stranger, and what is more, she brought no recommendationswith her. But her appearance is so attractive and her desire for theplace was so great, that I consented to try her. And she is verysatisfactory, poor girl! very satisfactory indeed!"

  Ah, here was an opportunity for questions. Without showing too mucheagerness and yet with a proper show of interest, I smilingly remarked:

  "No one can be called poor long who remains under your roof, MissAlthorpe. But perhaps she has lost friends; so many nice girls arethrown upon their own resources by the death of relatives?"

  "She does not wear mourning; but she is in some great trouble for allthat. But this cannot interest you, Miss Butterworth; have you some_protege_ whom you wished to recommend for the position?"

  I heard her, but did not answer at once. In fact, I was thinking how toproceed. Should I take her into my confidence, or should I continue inthe ambiguous manner in which I had begun. Seeing her smile, I becameconscious of the awkward silence.

  "Pardon me," said I, resuming my best manner, "but there is something Iwant to say which may strike you as peculiar."

  "O no," said she.

  "I _am_ interested in the girl you have befriended, and for verydifferent reasons from those you suppose. I fear--I have great reason tofear--that she is not just the person you would like to harbor underyour roof."

  "Indeed! Why, what do you know about her? Anything bad, MissButterworth?"

  I shook my head, and prayed her first to tell me how the girl looked andunder what circumstances she came to her; for I was desirous of makingno mistake concerning her identity with the person of whom I was insearch.

  "She is a sweet-looking girl," was the answer I received; "notbeautiful, but interesting in expression and manner. She has brownhair,"--I shuddered,--"brown eyes, and a mouth that would be lovely ifit ever smiled. In fact, she is very attractive and so lady-like that Ihave desired to make a companion of her. But while attentive to all herduties, and manifestly grateful to me for the home I have given her, sheshows so little desire for company or conversation that I have desistedfor the last day or so from urging her to speak at all. But you asked meunder what circumstances she came to me?"

  "Yes, on what day, and at what time of day? Was she dressed well, or didher clothes look shabby?"

  "She came on the very day I advertised; the eighteenth--yes, it was theeighteenth of this month; and she was dressed, so far as I noticed, veryneatly. Indeed, her clothes appeared to be new. They needed to havebeen, for she brought nothing with her save what was contained in asmall hand-bag."

  "Also new?" I suggested.

  "Very likely; I did not observe."

  "O Miss Althorpe!" I exclaimed, this time with considerable vehemence,"I fear, or rather I hope, she is the woman I want."

  "_You_ want!"

  "Yes, _I_; but I cannot tell you for what just yet. I must be sure, forI would not subject an innocent person to suspicion any more than youwould."

  "Suspicion! She is not honest, then? That would worry me, MissButterworth, for the house is full now, as you know, of weddingpresents, and--But I cannot believe such a thing of _her_. It is someother fault she has, less despicable and degrading."

  "I do not say she has any faults; I only said I feared. What name doesshe go by?"

  "Oliver; Ruth Oliver."

  Again I thought of the O. R. on the clothes at the laundry.

  "I wish I could see her," I ventured. "I would give anything for a peepat her face unobserved."

  "I don't know how I can manage _that_; she is very shy, and never showsherself in the front of the house. She even dines in her own room,having begged for that privilege till after I was married and thehousehold settled on a new basis. But you can go to her room with me. Ifshe is all right, she can have no objection to a visitor; and if she is_not_, it would be well for me to know it at once."

  "Certainly," said I, and rose to follow her, turning over in my mind howI should account to this young woman for my intrusion. I had justarrived at what I considered a sensible conclusion, when Miss Althorpe,leaning towards me, said with a whole-souled impetuosity for which Icould not but admire her:

  "The girl is very nervous, she looks and acts like a person who has hadsome frightful shock. Don't alarm her, Miss Butterworth, and don'taccuse her of anything wrong too suddenly. Perhaps she is innocent, andperhaps if she is not innocent, she has been driven into evil by verygreat temptations. I am sorry for her, whether she is simply unhappy ordeeply remorseful. For I never saw a sweeter face, or eyes with suchboundless depths of misery in them."

  Just what Mrs. Desberger had said! Strange, but I began to feel acertain sort of sympathy for the wretched being I was hunting down.

  "I will be careful," said I. "I merely want to satisfy myself that sheis the same girl I heard of last from a Mrs. Desberger."

  Miss Althorpe, who was now half-way up the rich staircase which makesher house one of the most remarkable in the city, turned and gave me aquick look over her shoulder.

  "I don't know Mrs. Desberger," she remarked.

  At which I smiled. Did she think Mrs. Desberger in society?

  At the end of an upper passage-way we paused.

  "This is the door," whispered Miss Althorpe. "Perhaps I had better go infirst and see if she is at all prepared for company."

  I was glad to have her do so, for I felt as if I needed to preparemyself for encountering this young girl, over whom, in my mind, hungthe dreadful suspicion of murder.

  But the time between Miss Althorpe's knock and her entrance, short as itwas, was longer than that which elapsed between her going in and herhasty reappearance.

  "You can have your wish," said she. "She is lying on her bed asleep, andyou can see her without being observed. But," she entreated, with apassionate grip of my arm, which proclaimed her warm nature, "doesn't itseem a little like taking advantage of her?"

  "Circumstances justify it in this case," I replied, admiring theconsideration of my hostess, but not thinking it worth while to emulateit. And with very little ceremony I pushed open the door and entered theroom of the so-called Ruth Oliver.

  The hush and quiet which met me, though nothing more than I had reasonto expect, gave me my first shock, and the young figure outstretched ona bed of dainty whiteness, my second. Everything about me was sopeaceful, and the delicate blue and white of the room so expressive ofinn
ocence and repose, that my feet instinctively moved more softly overthe polished floor and paused, when they did pause, before that dimlyshrouded bed, with something like hesitation in their usually emphatictread.

  The face of that bed's occupant, which I could now plainly see, may havehad an influence in producing this effect. It was so rounded withhealth, and yet so haggard with trouble. Not knowing whether MissAlthorpe was behind me or not, but too intent upon the sleeping girl tocare, I bent over the half-averted features and studied them carefully.

  They were indeed Madonna-like, something which I had not expected,notwithstanding the assurances I had received to that effect, and whiledistorted with suffering, amply accounted for the interest shown in herby the good-hearted Mrs. Desberger and the cultured Miss Althorpe.

  Resenting this beauty, which so poorly accommodated itself to thecharacter of the woman who possessed it, I leaned nearer, searching forsome defect in her loveliness, when I saw that the struggle and anguishvisible in her expression were due to some dream she was having.

  Moved, even against my will, by the touching sight of her tremblingeyelids and working mouth, I was about to wake her when I was stopped bythe gentle touch of Miss Althorpe on my shoulder.

  "Is she the girl you are looking for?"

  I gave one quick glance around the room, and my eyes lighted on thelittle blue pin-cushion on the satin-wood bureau.

  "Did you put those pins there?" I asked, pointing to a dozen or moreblack pins grouped in one corner.

  "_I_ did not, no; and I doubt if Crescenze did. Why?"

  I drew a small black pin from my belt where I had securely fastened it,and carrying it over to the cushion, compared it with those I saw. Theywere identical.

  "A small matter," I inwardly decided, "but it points in the rightdirection"; then, in answer to Miss Althorpe, added aloud: "I fear sheis. At least I have seen no reason yet for doubting it. But I must makesure. Will you allow me to wake her?"

  "O it seems cruel! She is suffering enough already. See how she twistsand turns!"

  "It will be a mercy, it seems to me, to rouse her from dreams so full ofpain and trouble."

  "Perhaps, but I will leave you alone to do it. What will you say to her?How account for your intrusion?"

  "O I will find means, and they won't be too cruel either. You had betterstand back by the bureau and listen. I think I had rather not have theresponsibility of doing this thing alone."

  Miss Althorpe, not understanding my hesitation, and only halfcomprehending my errand, gave me a doubtful look but retreated to thespot I had mentioned, and whether it was the rustle of her silk dress orwhether the dream of the girl we were watching had reached its climax, amomentary stir took place in the outstretched form before me, and nextmoment she was flinging up her hands with a cry.

  "O how can I touch her! She is dead, and I have never touched a deadbody."

  I fell back breathing hard, and Miss Althorpe's eyes, meeting mine, grewdark with horror. Indeed she was about to utter a cry herself, but Imade an imperative motion, and she merely shrank farther away towardsthe door.

  Meantime I had bent forward and laid my hand on the trembling figurebefore me.

  "Miss Oliver," I said, "rouse yourself, I pray. I have a message for youfrom Mrs. Desberger."

  She turned her head, looked at me like a person in a daze, then slowlymoved and sat up.

  "Who are you?" she asked, surveying me and the space about her witheyes which seemed to take in nothing till they lit upon Miss Althorpe'sfigure standing in an attitude of mingled shame and sympathy by thehalf-open door.

  "Oh, Miss Althorpe!" she entreated, "I pray you to excuse me. I did notknow you wanted me. I have been asleep."

  "It is this lady who wants you," answered Miss Althorpe. "She is afriend of mine and one in whom you can confide."

  "Confide!" This was a word to rouse her. She turned livid, and in hereyes as she looked my way both terror and surprise were visible. "Whyshould you think I had anything to confide? If I had, I should not passby you, Miss Althorpe, for another."

  There were tears in her voice, and I had to remember the victim justlaid away in Woodlawn, not to bestow much more compassion on this womanthan she rightfully deserved. She had a magnetic voice and a magneticpresence, but that was no reason why I should forget what she had done.

  "No one asks for your confidence," I protested, "though it might nothurt you to accept a friend whenever you can get one. I merely wish, asI said before, to give you a message from Mrs. Desberger, under whoseroof you stayed before coming here."

  "I am obliged to you," she responded, rising to her feet, and tremblingvery much. "Mrs. Desberger is a kind woman; what does she want of me?"

  So I was on the right track; she acknowledged Mrs. Desberger.

  "Nothing but to return you this. It fell out of your pocket while youwere dressing." And I handed her the little red pin-cushion I had takenfrom the Van Burnams' front room.

  She looked at it, shrunk violently back, and with difficulty preventedherself from showing the full depth of her feelings.

  "I don't know anything about it. It is not mine, I don't know it!" Andher hair stirred on her forehead as she gazed at the small object lyingin the palm of my hand, proving to me that she saw again before her allthe horrors of the house from which it had been taken.

  "Who are _you_?" she suddenly demanded, tearing her eyes from thissimple little cushion and fixing them wildly on my face. "Mrs. Desbergernever sent me this. I----"

  "You are right to stop there," I interposed, and then paused, feelingthat I had forced a situation which I hardly knew how to handle.

  The instant's pause she had given herself seemed to restore herself-possession. Leaving me, she moved towards Miss Althorpe.

  "I don't know who this lady is," said she, "or what her errand here withme may mean. But I hope that it is nothing that will force me to leavethis house which is my only refuge."

  Miss Althorpe, too greatly prejudiced in favor of this girl to hear thisappeal unmoved, notwithstanding the show of guilt with which she had metmy attack, smiled faintly as she answered:

  "Nothing short of the best reasons would make me part from you now. Ifthere are such reasons, you will spare me the pain of making use ofthem. I think I can so far trust you, Miss Oliver."

  No answer; the young girl looked as if she could not speak.

  "Are there any reasons why I should not retain you in my house, MissOliver?" the gentle mistress of many millions went on. "If there are,you will not wish to stay, I know, when you consider how near mymarriage day is, and how undisturbed my mind should be by any caresunattending my wedding."

  And still the girl was silent, though her lips moved slightly as if shewould have spoken if she could.

  "But perhaps you are only unfortunate," suggested Miss Althorpe, with analmost angelic look of pity--I don't often see angels in women. "If thatis so, God forbid that you should leave my protection or my house. Whatdo you say, Miss Oliver?"

  "That you are God's messenger to me," burst from the other, as if hertongue had been suddenly loosed. "That misfortune, and not wickedness,has driven me to your doors; and that there is no reason why I shouldleave you unless my secret sufferings make my presence unwelcome toyou."

  Was this the talk of a frivolous woman caught unawares in the meshes ofa fearful crime? If so, she was a more accomplished actress than we hadbeen led to expect even from her own words to her disgusted husband.

  "You look like one accustomed to tell the truth," proceeded MissAlthorpe. "Do you not think you have made some mistake, MissButterworth?" she asked, approaching me with an ingenuous smile.

  I had forgotten to caution her not to make use of my name, and when itfell from her lips I looked to see her unhappy companion recoil from mewith a scream.

  But strange to say she evinced no emotion, and seeing this, I becamemore distrustful of her than ever; for, for her to hear without apparentinterest the name of the chief witness in the inquest which had be
enheld over the remains of the woman with whose death she had been more orless intimately concerned, argued powers of duplicity such as are onlyassociated with guilt or an extreme simplicity of character. And she wasnot simple, as the least glance from her deep eyes amply showed.

  Recognizing, therefore, that open measures would not do with this woman,I changed my manner at once, and responding to Miss Althorpe, with agracious smile, remarked with an air of sudden conviction:

  "Perhaps I have made some mistake. Miss Oliver's words sound veryingenuous, and I am disposed, if you are, to take her at her word. It isso easy to draw false conclusions in this world." And I put back thepin-cushion into my pocket with an air of being through with the matter,which seemed to impose upon the young woman, for she smiled faintly,showing a row of splendid teeth as she did so.

  "Let me apologize," I went on, "if I have intruded upon Miss Oliveragainst her wishes." And with one comprehensive look about the roomwhich took in all that was visible of her simple wardrobe and humblebelongings, I led the way out. Miss Althorpe immediately followed.

  "This is a much more serious affair than I have led you to suppose," Iconfided to her as soon as we were at a suitable distance from MissOliver's door. "If she is the person I think her, she is amenable tolaw, and the police will have to be notified of her whereabouts."

  "She _has_ stolen, then?"

  "Her fault is a very grave one," I returned.

  Miss Althorpe, deeply troubled, looked about her as if for guidance. I,who could have given it to her, made no movement to attract herattention to myself, but waited calmly for her own decision in thismatter.

  "I wish you would let me consult Mr. Stone," she ventured at last. "Ithink his judgment might help us."

  "I had rather take no one into our confidence,--especially no man. Hewould consider your welfare only and not hers."

  I did not consider myself obliged to acknowledge that the work uponwhich I was engaged could not be shared by one of the male sex withoutlessening my triumph over Mr. Gryce.

  "Mr. Stone is very just," she remarked, "but he might be biased in amatter of this kind. What way do you see out of the difficulty?"

  "Only this. To settle at once and unmistakably, whether she is theperson who carried certain articles from the house of a friend of mine.If she is, there will be some evidence of the fact visible in her roomor on her person. She has not been out, I believe?"

  "Not since she came into the house."

  "And has remained for the most part in her own apartment?"

  "Always, except when I have summoned her to my assistance."

  "Then what I want to know I can learn there. But how can I make myinvestigations without offence?"

  "What do you want to know, Miss Butterworth?"

  "Whether she has in her keeping some half dozen rings of considerablevalue."

  "Oh! she could conceal rings so easily."

  "She does conceal them; I have no more doubt of it than I have of mystanding here; but I must know it before I shall feel ready to call theattention of the police to her."

  "Yes, we should both know it. Poor girl! poor girl! to be suspected of acrime! How great must have been her temptation!"

  "_I_ can manage this matter, Miss Althorpe, if you will entrust it tome."

  "How, Miss Butterworth?"

  "The girl is ill; let me take care of her."

  "Really ill?"

  "Yes, or will be so before morning. There is fever in her veins; she hasworried herself ill. Oh, I will be good to her."

  This in answer to a doubtful look from Miss Althorpe.

  "This is a difficult problem you have set me," that lady remarked aftera moment's thought. "But anything seems better than sending her away, orsending for the police. But do you suppose she will allow you in herroom?"

  "I think so; if her fever increases she will not notice much that goeson about her, and I think it will increase; I have seen enough ofsickness to be something of a judge."

  "And you will search her while she is unconscious?"

  "Don't look so horrified, Miss Althorpe. I have promised you I will notworry her. She may need assistance in getting to bed. While I am givingit to her I can judge if there is anything concealed upon her person."

  "Yes, perhaps."

  "At all events, we shall know more than we do now. Shall I venture, MissAlthorpe?"

  "I cannot say no," was the hesitating answer; "you seem so very much inearnest."

  "And I am in earnest. I have reasons for being; consideration for you isone of them."

  "I do not doubt it. And now will you come down to supper, MissButterworth?"

  "No," I replied. "My duty is here. Only send word to Lena that she is todrive home and take care of my house in my absence. I shall wantnothing, so do not worry about me. Join your lover now, dear; and do notbestow another thought upon this self-styled Miss Oliver or what I amabout to do in her room."