CHAPTER XII.
A MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD.
Less than a week after the events last related, and a family groupsurrounds the lunch table in the newly furnished morning room ofOakley.
The fair and fascinating Mrs. Torrance had accomplished the purposefor which she came to Bellair.
Truly had she said, "There is no fool like an old fool;" for JohnArthur had been an easy victim. He had lost no time with his wooing,and so, a little less than two months from the day the fair widow cameto Bellair, saw her mistress of John Arthur's household.
A bridal tour was not to her taste, much to the delight of thebridegroom. So they set about refitting some of the fine old rooms ofthe mansion, Cora having declared that they were too gloomy to beinhabitable.
As it was to her interest to keep up the deception of frank affection,she had been, during the two months of their honey-moon, a model wife.But the discovery that John Arthur could leave her nothing save hisblessing, had now been made, and Cora, who was already weary of hergray-headed dupe, had been for a few days past less careful in herdissembling.
For this reason John Arthur now sat with a moody brow, and watched hersmile upon her brother with a feeling of jealous wrath.
The bride had thrown off her badge of mourning, and was very glad tobloom out once more in azure and white and rose--hues which her soulloved.
Opposite sat Miss Arthur, her sallowness carefully enameled over, herhead adorned with an astonishing array of false braids and curls andfrizzes, jetty in hue to match her eyes, which, so Cora informedLucian in private, were "awfully beady."
The lady was perusing a paper, which she suddenly threw down, and saidlanguidly, while she stirred her chocolate carefully. "Should not thisbe the day on which my new maid arrives?"
Miss Arthur, from perusing many novels of the Sir Walter Scott school,had acquired a very stately manner of speech, and, so she flatteredherself, a very effective one.
"I don't know why Miss Arthur can want a maid; her toilets are alwaysperfection," remarked Mr. Davlin to the general assembly.
Whereupon, Miss Arthur blushed, giggled, and disclaimed; Mrs. Arthurdisappeared behind a newspaper; and Mr. Arthur emerged from the fog ofthought that had enveloped him, to say brusquely:
"Miss Arthur want a maid? what's all this? A French maid in a countryhouse--faugh!"
Miss Arthur gazed across at her brother, and said, loftily, andsomewhat unmeaningly:
"It is what I have chosen to do, John." Then to Mr. Davlin, sweetly:"It is so hard to dispense with a maid when you have been accustomedto one."
"I suppose so."
"And this one comes so well recommended, you know, by Mrs. Overman andMrs. Grosvenor. You have heard of these ladies in society, no doubt,Mr. Davlin?"
"Oh, certainly," aloud, "not," aside.
"And the name of the maid?" pursued Lucian.
"Her name," referring to the letter, "Celine Leroque--French, Ipresume."
"No doubt," dryly.
"Stop him, Miss Arthur," interrupted Cora, prettily; "he willcertainly ask if she is handsome, if you let him open his mouthagain."
Miss Arthur glanced at him suspiciously. "Not having seen her, I couldnot inform him," she said, coldly.
"Don't believe my sister," said Davlin, quietly, as he passed his cup."Cora, a little more chocolate, please. Miss Arthur, I met Mrs.Grosvenor at the seaside, two years ago. Her toilets were the marvelof the day; she protested that all credit was due her maid, who was awhole 'magazine of French art.' I thought this might be the same."
"I most earnestly hope that it is," pronounced Miss Arthur.
"And I most earnestly hope it isn't," grumbled her brother, who to-dayfelt vicious for many reasons, and didn't much care what the occasionwas, so long as it gave him an excuse for growling.
At this happy stage of affairs, the door was opened and the housemaidannounced: "An old lady, who says I am to tell you that her name isHagar, wants to see you, sir," addressing Mr. Arthur.
The master of the house started, and an angry flush settled upon hisface. "Send her away. I won't see the old beldam. Send her away."
The girl bowed and was about to retire, when she was pushed from thedoorway with little ceremony, and Nurse Hagar entered. Before theoccupants of the room had recovered from their surprise, or foundvoice to address her, she had crossed the room, and paused before JohnArthur. Placing a small bundle upon the table near him, she said:
"Don't think you can order me from your door, John Arthur, when Ichoose to enter it. I shall never come to you without good reason, andI presume you will think me a welcome messenger when you know myerrand."
"Confound you," said the man, angrily, yet with an uneasy look in hiseyes; "if you must chatter to me, come into the library." He arose andmade a step toward the door.
"There is no need," said Hagar, with dignity; "my errand may interestothers here besides yourself. I bring a message from the dead."
John Arthur turned ashen pale and trembled violently. All eyes wereturned upon the speaker, however, and his agitation was unnoticed saveby Hagar.
"Last night," she continued, "a carriage stopped at my door and awoman came in, bringing that bundle in her hands."
She paused and seemed struggling with her feelings.
"She said," continued Hagar, "that she was requested to come by adying girl, else she would have written the message given to her. Shebelonged to a charitable society, and visited the hospital every week.She brought flowers and fruit to one of the patients--a girl who diedasking her to write down what is on this card," holding out a bit ofwhite cardboard, "and not to tell the officers of the hospital hertrue name. She had entered under the name of Martha Gray, and wishedto be buried as such. The lady promised; the girl gave her thesearticles, and the lady kept her word, and brought the message. Thereis the bundle," in a choking voice, "and here is the card. That isall. Good-by, John Arthur; be happy, if you can. And may God's cursefall upon all who drove her to her doom!"
She gathered her shawl about her shoulders and, casting a meaningglance at Lucian Davlin, passed from the room and the house.
John Arthur sat with eyes riveted upon the card before him. After atime he turned, and placing it in Davlin's hand, signed to him to readit, and hurriedly left the room.
The hand that had first stricken the young life, placed the evidencethat the end had come in the hand that had completed what the firstbegan!
Something of this Lucian Davlin felt, hardened as he was, for he knew,without waiting for the proof, that the true name of the girl who diedin the hospital was familiar to them all.
"Read!" ejaculated Cora, impatiently, "or give it to me."
Lucian's eyes had scanned the card, and tossing it across to her, hepushed back his chair and walked to the window. Cora read for thebenefit of her bewildered sister-in-law:
Madeline Payne, at St. Mary's Hospital, under name of Martha Gray, died--brain fever--no friends but nurse.
"May God's curse fall upon all who drove her to herdoom."--page 134.]
On the opposite side of the card was pencilled the full address of oldHagar, and this was all. Scant information, but it was enough.
Cora pounced upon the bundle and opened it. It contained a littlepurse; a few trinkets, which any of the servants could identify asbelonging to Madeline; the cloak she had worn the evening of herflight; and a pocket-handkerchief with her name embroidered in thecorner.
Satisfaction beamed in the face Cora turned toward Lucian, and awayfrom Miss Arthur. She was mindful of the proprieties, however, andturning her eyes back upon the lady opposite, she pressed a daintyhandkerchief to her countenance, and murmured plaintively:
"How very, very shocking, and sad! Poor Mr. Arthur is quite overcome,and no wonder--that poor, sweet, young girl."
Across Lucian's averted face flitted a smile of sarcasm. How littleshe knew of the truth, this fair hypocrite, and how unlikely she wasever to know now. If Madeline were dead, of what avail was any
effortto break from the olden thraldom--for this is what had been in themind of the scheming man.
Cora brushed her handkerchief across her eyes and arose languidly. "Imust go to Mr. Arthur, poor man," she murmured, shaking out herflounces. "He is terribly shocked, I fear."
Studiously avoiding the necessity of glancing in the direction of Mr.Davlin, she glided from the room.
And so the news fell in Madeline's home, and its inmates were affectedno more than this:
With Cora a renewal of tenderness toward "Dear John," and an increasedstateliness toward Miss Arthur and the servants. More deference onMiss Arthur's part towards her brother, and less on his part towardher, as the possibility of being obliged to ask a small loan fadedaway into the past of empty purses and closed up coffers.
Lucian took upon himself the responsibility of visiting the city andcalling at St. Mary's, there to be reassured of the fact that oneMartha Grey had died within its walls and been buried.