CHAPTER XVIII
TO SEE YOU ONCE AGAIN
Mr. and Mrs. Westbury had gone to Wrexford Grange. Laverne was glad tohave a few days to herself. At first she wrote a long homesick letterto Miss Holmes. Already she was tired of her new life. Yet more than ayear had passed--three years more and she would be free. But how longit looked!
After Uncle Jason's tender love she was cruelly hurt by her father'sindifference. He was deeply immersed in business and proud of hissuccesses. Indeed, why should he not be? He was shrewd enough to takeno honor in coming up from the ranks. He preferred to have his patronsthink he had always been quite high on the ladder of fortune. Makingmoney was now his chief enjoyment, his one ambition. Laverne was apretty enough girl, but not the sort that drew men irresistibly to herside. His wife was much more attractive. And then Laverne brought someremembrances that he wished strenuously to forget, that he had oncedismissed from his mind. He had made a little romance of it for hiswife's ears, and he had a vague fear that Laverne might recall somedisagreeable fact that it would not be so easy to disavow. She neverhad, but he was not sure how much might linger in her memory.
There was always a gulf between the father and the child. He haddemanded her mostly to please his wife, the rest to satisfy a littlegrudge against Jason Chadsey that he had happened to possess himselfof the episode not at all to his, Westbury's, credit. From the bottomof his heart he wished Chadsey had come back in time to marry Laverne.It had been a most unfortunate step for him, he reasoned.
Laverne had been in a way fascinated by Mrs. Westbury's protestationsof affection. She had appealed to all that was sweetest and finest inthe girl's nature, all these years she had been studying men and womenon the emotional side, she was not capable of any intellectualanalysis. And though she could assume so much, at heart she had verylittle faith in her fellow beings, as she measured them mostly byherself. An attractive young girl would draw young people, and shesunned herself in the enthusiasms of youth, they were a tonic to her.She did not mean to grow old, but she had a quality rare in the peoplewho cling to youth, she made no silly assumption further than to useall the arts and aids that she persuaded herself were quite asnecessary as a good diet to conserve health. She enjoyed her world,her wealth, her little elusive pretexts and inventions, and was amusedto see how easily people who pretended to discrimination wereensnared.
At first Laverne had been a new toy, a plaything, a puppet that shecould draw in any fashion that she thought best. But presently she wasamazed at the child's utter honesty, her shrinking from dissimulation,the surprise at some things she read in the clear eyes. It had beenpleasant, but now she was tiring of her toy. Would she be the sort ofgirl who would draw lovers to her feet and dismiss them with a wave ofher fan?
There was marriage, of course. This was really her first season. Thedaughter of a rich man would not lack offers. She wished she was alittle less cold, self-contained, indifferent.
And now a new scheme had presented itself. Why should not Laverne beLady Wrexford? If her father became the virtual owner of WrexfordGrange, why would it not be a fine dowry? And they could manage thatLord Wrexford should be judicious in expenditures. It might be bestthat the entail should not be meddled with.
Laverne did enjoy the solitude. She was coming to feel that she waswatched continually, criticised gently, of course, but often it hurt.And she had not gone down to the real heart of anything. Was there aheart or was it all surface living?
She went out to take her drive each day with her maid. Several youngfriends had called.
One afternoon Preston brought up a card. "Mr. Victor Savedra," Laverneread.
"He requested especially to see you," Preston said. "I was notsure----" and she glanced inquiringly. "It is all right, quite right,"the girl made answer, but her heart was in her throat, her voicehusky. She stood there some seconds, fingering the card. Truth totell, she felt hurt that Victor had made no effort to see her throughall this time, knowing from his own family she was in London. It washardly her place to appeal to him. Indeed, she had soon learned herold friends were not subjects of pleasure to her new relatives. Andnow she had quite given up hope with a sad heartache.
Laverne walked slowly down the broad staircase, lingered a moment,while she felt her color coming and going in great bounds. Then therewas a step, a figure emerged from the reception room, and caught bothhands in his. Neither of them spoke, but simply glanced in eachother's eyes. He had changed, matured, and was a really handsome youngman in the somewhat brilliant Spanish style. But the soft eyes had notlost their olden tenderness.
"Oh," he began, "I was afraid I should never see you again," and theglance seemed almost to devour her.
"You have been in London all this time." There was the faintest touchof reproach in her tone.
"And you? It seems to me if one can credit society news you have beenvery gay."
She flushed, and her eyes were downcast, the brown lashes making ashadow on her cheek.
"You must not upbraid me. I made some effort to find you. I was soamazed at the strange turn of affairs. Isola and mother wrote to meand begged me to call on you. At last I did learn where you were andsent you a note, directed to your father's care. It was answered byMrs. Westbury, who explained that you were not in society, a gentlesuggestion that I might have been rather forward, also that you weregoing to some French watering place, but no hint that I might bewelcome on your return," and he half smiled.
"I never saw the note--I never heard. Oh, did you think I could forgetan old friend when all things were so strange and I so lonely?"
Now the lashes were gemmed with tears. He longed to kiss them away.An infinite pity stirred his heart.
"Have you been lonely and unhappy? Forgive me, but I thought of you asgay and full of pleasure. I have not been much in ladies' society. Ihave made some fine friends among men, and it has been study, study,but I have achieved most of my plans and pleased the best of fathers.Last summer with some friends I made a walking tour of Switzerland.This summer I return home. I like America best. And how San Franciscowill look after four years' absence! Nothing of the kind could happenin this staid old world. I wonder sometimes if I have not dreamed partof it. And if I have not dreamed about you! Oh, what a brute I am.Come and sit down and let us talk it all over. And your pooruncle--what do you hear from him?"
She wiped the tears from her eyes and in a broken voice said:"Nothing."
"Oh, poor child!" All his heart went out to her. He had thoughtnothing of love before. He had been but a boy, but he knew he lovedher now with a man's love, and with a sudden resolve he determined totake her back with him even if it had to be his wife without hisparents' blessing and God speed.
"No one hears, I believe," she replied when she had recovered hervoice. "Only--I promised to come back to him when I was twenty-one andfree, and he will be waiting for me, I know."
Then this new relationship had not been happy. He had besought MissHolmes to tell him about it, but she had been very non-committal. Hegathered from that she had not been favorably impressed with eitherMrs. or Mr. Westbury, although under the circumstances there wasnothing else to be done.
When they had recovered self-possession a little they began to talk ofthe old times, the old days that had been full of delight, itappeared, now touched by the enchanter, memory. The first time theyhad danced together when she was a little girl, his Saturday at theold house, and the ride they had taken down the coast. Snippy, and theverses they had tried to make for the dead Balder. How he had hated totell her _he_ was going away for four long years, and how glad he hadbeen to get Isola's extravagant letters, "for you know she simplyadored you," he confessed, with a smile.
"It has all changed," she said mournfully, "There will be no more SanFrancisco. The hill has been lowered so much, and our old house hasgone with it. Olive was married in the autumn, you know."
"And Howard is turning into a fine young business fellow, fatherwrites. Uncle Personette may well be proud of his children,
who havehad the kindest of stepmothers. I always liked Aunt Grace and yourMiss Holmes. Mother thinks she couldn't do without her. And it'squeer," laughing a little, "she declined a very nice offer of marriagethat a friend of father's made her, the captain of a vessel going upand down to the Isthmus. She was very fond of you."
The sweet eyes filled with tears again. Had she left all love behindin the grand city guarded by the Golden Gate?
The room grew dusky. The maid came in to light up, and glanced sharplyat them.
"Oh, what an unconscionable visit I have been making," and yet helaughed lightly, not at all troubled by the proprieties that he hadreally outraged--and he knew better.
How very charming he was, standing up there, just medium height, withone of the figures that is often likened to Mercury or Ganymede. Therich tinted Spanish complexion, the dark melting eyes, when hesmiled--could they ever look fierce? the narrow mustache, leaving thered line on the short upper lip, the chin rounded out with youth andhealth, the hands dainty enough for a lady. They reached over and heldhers, the eyes smiled into hers, but all the same there came a sharppang at his going.
"For the next two weeks I shall be awfully busy," he explained. "Thencome the Christmas holidays. I didn't have any last year. I juststayed and ground in the mill. I was bound to reach a certain point.But now I shall spend a week in London. I think I can persuade Mrs.Westbury to admit me."
Why should she not? Laverne thought.
A happy girl sat down to her solitary meal. She was no longer lonely.Christmas was near. Of next summer she would not think.
A letter came from Mrs. Westbury with news that scarcely touchedLaverne, and perhaps after all had not much of real sadness in it.They had gone to Wrexford Grange to settle some important business,and before it was finished the poor old paralytic, who for the lastyear had been scarcely conscious of anything but breathing, had passedout of life. Lord Wrexford had insisted upon their staying until afterthe funeral. Would she mind if she gave up the Liscombes' dance? Mrs.Leigh would be pleased to chaperon her, but it would be in bettertaste to remain at home.
Laverne did this cheerfully. To be sure, the days were rather lonely,but the driving and a little shopping and going to some pictureexhibitions with Mrs. Leigh filled them up.
There was a pile of notes and invitations on Mrs. Westbury's desk whenshe returned. Laverne often answered the least important. Between themshe sandwiched Wrexford Grange. It was an old, old estate, the titledating back for more than three hundred years, and though it had beenneglected of late could be put in excellent order again. Such grandrooms, such a splendid hall, such a great stone stairway with oakenrailing. Family portraits and a copy of the First Charles,--theWrexfords had been royalists,--but all these things had been hiddenaway until the accession of the son, with the old family silver,rather clumsy, she thought, but she was wise enough to know that ageredeemed it.
"Oh," she began suddenly, "the Doncasters want you for their ChristmasBazaar. The Thorleys are coming up--yes, I think you must go. It isfor the doctor's pet charity, those crippled babies. I think it wouldbe a mercy if the Lord took some of the poor things out of the world,but while they are here they must be taken care of. It is only one dayand evening. We must give a luncheon to Florence and Claire Thorley.I'm sorry Lord Wrexford must be counted out of the Christmas gayeties.Yes, write an acceptance."
When she came down to the bottom she glanced over the cards, smiling,then frowning, not sorry to have missed some of the calls.
"Victor Savedra," she exclaimed, "why----"
"It is those Spanish people at home, at least, the son is here atOxford, and he called."
She confessed it very quietly, without a change of color orembarrassment.
"Oh, yes--let me see--he asked permission to call--I think I toldyou--sometime in the early summer--we were going away."
These little half truths annoyed Laverne, but she made no comment.
Mrs. Westbury had accomplished one step toward what she thought wouldbe the crowning point of her life, and she was amazed that it had beendone so easily. As Laverne was an important factor in it she wasprepared to be very sweet.
"He is still at Oxford?"
"Yes, he will be through in June, and then he will return to America."
She was not even troubled when Preston told her the young man hadstayed two good hours. In fact, Laverne was rather surprised at heramiability and indulgence. She saw very little of her father, but he,too, seemed awakening to a new interest in her. There were businessand board meetings and dinners of directors, but he was always inexcellent spirits. He sometimes wondered himself how it was that fateseemed to send everything his way. He was very lavish with Christmasmoney to his wife and daughter.
So she went to the Bazaar in the best of spirits. She really liked AmyDoncaster, though she was finding that the type of Olive Personettewas by no means an uncommon one. Amy was deeply interested in herbrother's hospital, and often visited it and made garments for thepoorer patients.
It was quite a pet charity in one circle. There were hundreds of otherthings in the great city, but they had their share of patronage. Thehall was dressed with evergreens, and though some of the half-hiddenflowers were paper they looked quite as pretty and did not wither inthe heat and light. Tastefully arranged tables, with handiwork bothuseful and ornamental, attractive for Christmas gifts; young girls insimple white attire, the fashion of those days, older ones with moreelegance keeping supervision and adding dignity. Carriages came andwent before the broad doorway, and visitors seemed generouslyinclined.
She was very happy, this charming American girl. At the middle of thecentury there were not so many of them to share and often fight fortriumphs. Then, Mr. Westbury had won a standing of his own and waspaving a golden path. It was not trade, something that was held inhigher esteem. Miss Westbury might be quite an heiress. There was noolder brother to demand a share. For we had not outgrown the idea thatthe brothers must be provided for first of all.
When the hall was lighted up and the young men began to throng in, thescene was brilliant and the moneychangers brought out their bestcharms and sweetest smiles. Mrs. Westbury had been in during theafternoon and had gone to a "high tea" at old Lady Carcroft's. So inthe early evening she came again.
Fred Doncaster, who had elected the Church for a profession, sincethere was a very excellent living in the other branch of the family,and he being a second son, brought in his friend Victor Savedra.
"He is a Spaniard," explained Amy Doncaster to a group of girls. "Andisn't he handsome! Fred brought him over once, they are great chums,and he has the most charming manners. Oh, Miss Westbury, helives--well--it isn't far from that wonderful San Francisco where youcame from, and they must be very rich, Fred thinks, though he neverboasts of it, but it must be something like a big English estate. Oh,they are coming over here."
They made their way through, and Victor's face lighted with intensesatisfaction. Laverne flushed "celestial rosy red." He reached overand took her hand, exclaiming, "What a pleasure! I am so glad to seeyou here."
"Hillo!" and Fred gazed from one to the other.
"We have been friends from childhood--isn't it?" smiling out of hisdelight. "And Miss Doncaster--I came almost purposely to buy some ofyour wares," glancing at that lady.
"Oh, thank you," she returned gayly.
The rest of the introductions were given and the party fell into asocial chat. Mrs. Westbury entered the hall at that juncture with Mrs.Doncaster. A spasm of something like anger shot over her. Yes, she wasquite sure that must be Victor Savedra. Was Laverne making secretengagements with him?
"Oh," Mrs. Doncaster began, "there is Fred's friend, a young Spaniard,who has been over here for his education. We were all charmed with himwhen Fred brought him to dinner one night, and wished we had made hisacquaintance earlier, since he leaves us in the summer. The Spaniards,I believe, were some of the old settlers on the western coast. I don'tquite understand all the distinctions of American people."
Mrs. Westbury recalled the fact that she had met the elder Mr.Savedra, who had come to say farewell to Laverne and to assure herthat they would do their best to make Miss Holmes happy. Then she wasformally introduced to the young man, who had a notably distinctivecharm, partly due no doubt to his foreign air.
Fred certainly was in high spirits, and helped the girls in theirsales, even if he did call them shopkeepers. Then he insisted thatMiss Westbury should accompany him around to "spy out the nakedness ofthe land," he said, which in this case meant an accession of funds forthe Hospital. "My brother _would_ study surgery," he said, with a halfprotest. "Minturn is a born philanthropist, so between us both weshall care for bodies and souls. I'd worlds rather have myprofession."
Amy and Savedra were talking just in front of them, now and thenpausing at a booth, where the girl proudly introduced her companion.Some stalls were already sold out; indeed, every one seemed jubilantover the success. In a little rather private corner groups were havingsome refreshments, and at one they found Miss Doncaster and anadmirer, who made room for them, and they had a merry time. Victor saton one side of Laverne, and they exchanged bits of talk mostlysatisfactory to each.
Savedra had accepted an invitation from the Doncasters. It was trueLondoners were rushing out to country homes, or to holiday houseparties, but there were hosts of them left.
"I had no idea the Doncasters knew you," Victor said. "I am glad wehave a mutual friend. I shall spend all the holidays in town, and wemust see a good deal of each other to make up for the lost time."
Her eyes drooped and a delicious flush overspread her face. How shyand sweet she was! He would not think of the time when he must go awayand leave her behind.
Mrs. Doncaster accepted a seat in Mrs. Westbury's brougham. The youngpeople would walk home, as the doctor headed the party. The girls hadplanned to have a little dance the night after Christmas, just aninformal, suddenly arranged matter, and Laverne must be sure to come.They were to go to a Christmas dinner, but there was no engagement forFriday evening.
After they had set their companion down at her own door, Mrs. Westburystill commented on the success of the Bazaar and the prettiness of thegirls.
"And I thought that young Savedra quite _epris_ with Miss Amy, didn'tyou? He was devoted to her."
"They all like him very much." She was so happy there was no room inher heart for jealousy. Indeed, gladness forbade the thought ofpossessorship.
"And English girls don't mind marrying and going to the ends of theearth. That Miss Morven went to Canada to marry her betrothed, who wasin some government position, and couldn't leave. And Lady Estee'sdaughter went out to India. Of course, Laverne, you will not give asecond thought to Fred Doncaster. It will be two years before he canbe ordained. And there's such a family, six children!"
"Oh, no," returned Laverne cheerfully.
She had it in her mind to say: "Your father has other views for you,"but caution intervened. Still, when she glanced her over in the lightof her room as she was saying good-night, she thought how reallypretty the girl looked to-night, her soft eyes shining, her mouthsettled in the curves of a half smile that would tempt any lover tokiss, the clear, beautiful complexion, the long bronze lashes thatseemed to play with the dainty color on her cheek, as the sun overdimpling waters. Yes, she wanted the excitement of pleasure.
Laverne went to the dance with great gladness of heart and a strangefreedom. Victor danced with the Doncaster girls first, they were thehostesses. Then it came Laverne's turn, and they had a delightful timebetween the figures.
"Oh, do you remember how frightened you were that night at UnclePersonette's? I really made you dance, didn't I? I wonder that youwere not vexed. Was I worse than importunate?" laughing.
"Oh, I thought you were so good, so delightful, to take the trouble.And I was such a child. There were so many big girls. How could I havebeen vexed? That would have been ungrateful."
"We have always been such friends. And now I shall venture to call onyou. I had a fancy that Mrs. Westbury didn't quite like--well, ofcourse, you were not in society. Customs are different."
"You are going back so soon." She said it with a most adorable littlesigh.
"There will be the Easter vacation, and we must make the best of this.When I am away I shall think of you half the time. Let us see. Can'twe make a plan--just at twilight, let us say. No matter where we arewe will send a thought to each other. There's a queer new belief,magnetism or some such thing, that you _can_ send an influence to yourfriends across any space, that if you sit still a few moments andthink of them they will respond."
"Oh, that is a most felicitous thought!" Could she make Uncle Jason orany one think of her in that manner?
"Let _us_ promise--just at twilight."
Some one took her in the next figure. What a slim, graceful girl shewas. How like a bird she skimmed along when she ran races with Elena!And how they had scrambled over rocks and sat on the summitsoverlooking the ocean! There were no such fascinating memories withany other human being. There was no one quite like her.
And they did have a merry, delightful time. A week of going somewhereevery day, of chances to slip in bits of charming confidences, ofstrolls in the old Museum and other famous places, and then it came toan end.
Fred and Savedra, friends as they were, dropped in to say good-by.Mrs. Westbury was present. He went over and took her hand--whatmagnificent rubies those were!
"I want to thank you for a great deal of courtesy," he said, "andmuch pleasure. And now we must both return to our old pastures and digaway at the dry roots and forget about everything but the exams."
He shook hands quietly with both ladies.