CHAPTER VIII. A WORD OVERHEARD
That evening I had a talk with Fanny over the area gate. She came outwhen she saw me approach, with her eyes staring and her whole form in aflutter.
"O," she cried, "such things as I have heard this day!"
"Well," said I, "what? let me hear too." She put her hand on her heart."I never was so frightened," whispered she, "I thought I should havefainted right away. To hear that elegant lady use such a word ascrime,--"
"What elegant lady?" interrupted I. "Don't begin in the middle of yourstory, that's a good girl; I want to hear it all."
"Well," said she, calming down a little, "Mrs. Daniels had a visitorto-day, a lady. She was dressed--"
"O, now," interrupted I for the second time, "you can leave that out.Tell me what her name was and let the fol-de-rols go."
"Her name?" exclaimed the girl with some sharpness, "how should I knowher name; she did'nt come to see me."
"How did she look then? You saw her I suppose?"
"And was'nt that what I was telling you, when you stopped me. She lookedlike a queen, that she did; as grand a lady as ever I see, in her velvetdress sweeping over the floor, and her diamonds as big as--"
"Was she a dark woman?" I asked.
"Her hair was black and so were her eyes, if that is what you mean."
"And was she very tall and proud looking?"
The girl nodded. "You know her?" whispered she.
"No," said I, "not exactly; but I think I can tell who she is. And soshe called to-day on Mrs. Daniels, did she."
"Yes, but I guess she knew master would be home before she got away."
"Come," said I, "tell me all about it; I'm getting impatient."
"And ain't I telling you?" said she. "It was about three o'clock thisafternoon, the time I go up stairs to dress, so I just hangs about inthe hall a bit, near the parlor door, and I hear her gossiping with Mrs.Daniels almost as if she was an old friend, and Mrs. Daniels answeringher mighty stiffly and as if she was'nt glad to see her at all. But thelady didn't seem to mind, but went on talking as sweet as honey, andwhen they came out, you would have thought she loved the old woman likea sister to see her look into her face and say something about knowinghow busy she was, but that it would give her so much pleasure if shewould come some day to see her and talk over old times. But Mrs. Danielswas'nt pleased a bit and showed plain enough she did'nt like the lady,fine as she was in her ways. She was going to answer her too, but justthen the front door opened and Mr. Blake with his satchel in his hand,came into the house. And how he did start, to be sure, when he saw them,though he tried to say something perlite which she did'nt seem to taketo at all, for after muttering something about not expecting to see him,she put her hand on the knob and was going right out. But he stopped herand they went into the parlor together while Mrs. Daniels stood staringafter them like one mad, her hand held out with his bag and umbrella init, stiff as a statter in the Central Park. She did'nt stand so long,though, but came running down the hall, as if she was bewitched. I wasdreadful flustered, for though I was hid behind the wall that juts outthere by the back stairs, I was afraid she would see me and shame mebefore Mr. Blake. But she passed right by and never looked up. 'There issomething dreadful mysterious in this,' thought I, and I just made upmy mind to stay where I was till Mr. Blake and the lady should come outagain from the parlor. I did'nt have to wait very long. In a few minutesthe door opened and they stepped out, he ahead and she coming after. Ithought this was queer, he is always so dreadful perlite in his ways,but I thought it was a deal queerer when I saw him go up the frontstairs, she hurrying after, looking I cannot tell you how, but awfultroubled and anxious, I should say.
"They went into that room of his he calls his studio and though I knewit might cost me my place if I was found out, I could'nt help followingand listening at the keyhole."
"And what did you hear?" I asked, for she paused to take breath.
"Well, the first thing I heard was a cry of pleasure from her, and thewords, 'You keep that always before you? You cannot dislike me, then, asmuch as you pretend.' I don't know what she meant nor what he did, buthe stepped across the room and I heard her cry out this time as if shewas hurt as well as awful surprised; and he talked and talked, and Icould'nt catch a word, he spoke so low; and by and by she sobbed just alittle, and I got scared and would have run away but she cried out witha kind of shriek, 'O, don't say any more; to think that crime shouldcome into our family, the proudest in the land. How could you, Holman,how could you.' Yes," the girl went on, flushing in her excitement tillshe was as red as the cherry ribbons in her cap, "those were the verywords she used: 'To think that crime should come into our family! theproudest one in the land!' And she called him by his first name, andasked him how he could do it."
"And what did Mr. Blake say?" returned I, a little taken back myself atthis result of my efforts with Fanny.
"O, I did'nt wait to hear. I did'nt wait for anything. If folks wasgoing to talk about such things as that, I thought I had better beanywhere than listening at the keyhole. I went right up stairs I cantell you."
"And whom have you told of what you heard in the half dozen hours thathave gone by?"
"Nobody; how could you think so mean of me when I promised, and--"
It is not necessary to go any further into this portion of theinterview.
The Countess De Mirac possessed to its fullest extent the present finelady's taste for bric-a-brac. So much I had learned in my inquiriesconcerning her. Remembering this, I took the bold resolution ofprofiting by this weakness of hers to gain admission to her presence,she being the only one sharing Mr. Blake's mysterious secret. Borrowinga valuable antique from a friend of mine at that time in the business,I made my appearance the very next day at her apartments, and sendingin an urgent request to see Madame, by the trim negress who answered mysummons, waited in some doubt for her reply.
It came all too soon; Madame was ill and could see no one. I was not,however, to be baffled by one rebuff. Handing the basket I held to thegirl, I urged her to take it in and show her mistress what it contained,saying it was a rare article which might never again come her way.
The girl complied, though with a doubtful shake of the head which wasanything but encouraging. Her incredulity, however, must have beenspeedily rebuked, for she almost immediately returned without thebasket, saying Madame would see me.
My first thoughts upon entering the grand lady's presence, was that thegirl had been mistaken, for I found the Countess walking the floor in anabstracted way, drying a letter she had evidently but just completed, byshaking it to and fro with an unsteady hand; the placque I had brought,lying neglected on the table.
But at sight of my respectful form standing with bent head in thedoorway, she hurriedly thrust the letter into a book and took up theplacque. As she did so I marked her well and almost started at thechange I observed in her since that evening at the Academy. It was notonly that she was dressed in some sort of loose dishabille that wasin eminent contrast to the sweeping silks and satins in which I hadhitherto beheld her adorned; or that she was laboring under somephysical disability that robbed her dark cheek of the bloom that was itschiefest charm. The change I observed went deeper than that; it was moreas if a light had been extinguished in her countenance. It was the samewoman I had beheld standing like a glowing column of will and strengthbefore the melancholy form of Mr. Blake, but with the will and strengthgone, and with them all the glow.
"She no longer hopes," thought I, and already felt repaid for mytrouble.
"This is a very pretty article you have brought me," said she withsomething of the unrestrained love of art which she undoubtedlypossessed, showing itself through all her languor. "Where did it comefrom, and what recommendations have you, to prove it is an honest saleyou offer me?"
"None," returned I, ignoring with a reassuring smile the first question,"except that I should not be afraid if all the police in New York knew Iwas here with this fine placque for sale."
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She gave a shrug of her proud shoulder that bespoke the French Countessand softly ran her finger round the edge of the placque.
"I don't need anything more of this kind," said she languidly;"besides," and she set it down with a fretful air, "I am in no mood tobuy this afternoon." Then shortly, "What do you ask for it?"
I named a fabulous price.
She started and cast me a keen glance. "You had better take it to someone else; I have no money to throw away."
With a hesitating hand I lifted the placque towards the basket. "I wouldvery much like to sell it to you," said I. "Perhaps--"
Just then a lady's fluttering voice rose from the room beyond inquiringfor the Countess, and hurriedly taking the placque from my hand withan impulsive "O there's Amy," she passed into the adjoining apartment,leaving the door open behind her.
I saw a quick interchange of greetings between her and a fashionablydressed lady, then they withdrew to one side with the ornament I hadbrought, evidently consulting in regard to its merits. Now was my time.The book in which she had placed the letter she had been writing lay onthe table right before me, not two inches from my hand. I had onlyto throw back the cover and my curiosity would be satisfied. Takingadvantage of a moment when their backs were both turned, I pressed openthe book with a careful hand, and with one eye on them and one on thesheet before me, managed to read these words:--
MY DEAREST CECILIA.
I have tried in vain to match the sample you sent me at Stewart's, Arnold's and McCreery's. If you still insist upon making up the dress in the way you propose, I will see what Madame Dudevant can do for us, though I cannot but advise you to alter your plans and make the darker shade of velvet do. I went to the Cary reception last night and met Lulu Chittenden. She has actually grown old, but was as lively as ever. She created a great stir in Paris when she was there; but a husband who comes home two o'clock in the morning with bleared eyes and empty pockets, is not conducive to the preservation of a woman's beauty. How she manages to retain her spirits I cannot imagine. You ask me news of cousin Holman. I meet him occasionally and he looks well, but has grown into the most sombre man you ever saw. In regard to certain hopes of which you have sometimes made mention, let me assure you they are no longer practicable. He has done what--
Here the conversation ceased in the other room, the Countess made amovement of advance and I closed the book with an inward groan over myill-luck.
"It is very pretty," said she with a weary air; "but as I remarkedbefore, I am not in the buying mood. If you will take half you mention,I may consider the subject, but--"
"Pardon me, Madame," I interrupted, being in no wise anxious to leavethe placque behind me, "I have been considering the matter and I hold tomy original price. Mr. Blake of Second Avenue may give it to me if youdo not."
"Mr. Blake!" She eyed me suspiciously. "Do you sell to him?"
"I sell to anyone I can," replied I; "and as he has an artist's eye forsuch things--"
Her brows knitted and she turned away. "I do not want it;" said she,"sell it to whom you please."
I took up the placque and left the room.