CHAPTER XI

  "I FEAR I SHALL FAIL"

  The band had been discoursing lively strains for some time, and MissWildmere had at last dragged her mother down for a chaperon--the onlyavailable one as yet. The anxious mother was eager to return to herfretting child, and her daughter was much inclined to resent Graydon'sprolonged absence. "If it were politic, and I had other acquaintances,I would punish him," she thought. It was a new experience for her tosit in a corner of the parlor, apparently neglected, while others weredancing. There were plenty who looked wistfully toward her; butthere was no one to introduce her, and Graydon's absence left the iceunbroken.

  She ignored the inevitable isolation of a new-comer, however, and whenhe appeared shook her finger at him as she said, "Here I am, constancyitself, waiting to give you my first dance, as I promised."

  "I shall try to prove worthy," he said, earnestly. "You must remember,in extenuation, that I have not seen the ladies of our family for along time."

  "You use the plural, and are Dot at all singular in your prolongedabsence with the charming Miss Alden. You certainly cannot look uponher as an invalid any longer, however else you may regard her," sheadded, with an arch look.

  "You shall now have my entire regard as long as you will permit it."

  "That will depend a little upon yourself. Mamma is tired, and I'm ofno account compared with that infant upstairs; therefore I can't keepher as a chaperon this evening, and I will go to my room as soon asyou are tired of me."

  "Not till then?"

  "Not unless I go before."

  "At some time in the indefinite future, Mrs. Wildmere, you may hope tosee your daughter again."

  The poor lady smiled encouragingly and gratefully. She would be mosthappy to have Graydon take the brilliant creature for better or worseas soon as possible. She liked him, as did all women, for she saw thathe had a large, kindly nature. She now stole meekly away, while hewith his fair partner glided out upon the floor. All eyes followedthem, and even the veterans of society remarked that they had neverseen more graceful dancing.

  From her seat on the piazza Madge also watched the couple. Thestruggle to which she had looked forward so long had indeed begun, andmost inauspiciously. Her rival had every advantage. The mood in whichGraydon had returned predisposed him to prompt action, while she hadlost her influence for the present by a course that seemed to himso unnatural as to be prudish. Miss Wildmere's manner gave all theencouragement that a man could wish for, and it was hard to view withcharity the smiling, triumphant belle. Madge suddenly became consciousthat Mr. Muir was observing her, and she remarked, quietly: "I neversaw better dancing than that. It's grace itself. Miss Wildmere waltzessuperbly."

  "Not better than you, Miss Alden," said Mr. Henderson, a young man whoprided himself on his skill in the accomplishment under consideration,and with whom she had danced several times. "I've been looking foryou, in the hope that you would favor me this evening."

  She rose and passed with him through the open window. The waltz wasdrawing to a close; the majority had grown weary and sat down; andsoon Madge and Miss Wildmere were the only ladies on the floor.Opinion was divided, some declaring that the former was the moregraceful and lovely, while perhaps a larger number gave their verdictfor the latter.

  The strains ceased, and left the couples near each other. Graydonimmediately introduced Miss Wildmere. The girls bowed a little tooprofoundly to indicate cordiality. Madge also presented Mr. Henderson,hoping that he might become a partner for Miss Wildmere, and giveGraydon an opportunity to dance with her. He resolved to break the iceat once so far as his relatives were concerned, and he conducted MissWildmere to Mrs. Muir, and gave her a seat beside that lady. The girlof his choice should have not only a gallant for the evening, but alsoa chaperon. He was not one to enter on timid, half-way measures; andhe determined that his brother's prejudice should count for nothingin this case. His preference was entitled to respect, and must berespected. Of course the group chatted courteously, as well-bredpeople do in public, but Miss Wildmere felt that the atmosphere waschilly. She was much too politic to permit the slightest tinge ofcoldness in her manner toward those with whom she meditated such closerelations should the barring "if" melt out of the way.

  The people were forming for the lancers, and Mr. Henderson asked Madgeto help make up a set. She complied without hesitation. Nor was sheunmindful of the fact that Graydon sat in a position which commanded aview of the floor. He had seen her glide out in the waltz with a gracesecond only to that of Miss Wildmere, even in his prejudiced eyes. Nowhe again observed her curiously, and his disappointment and bitternessat heart increased, even while she compelled his wondering admiration.He saw that, though she lacked Miss Wildmere's conventional finish,she had a natural grace of her own. He admitted that he had never seenso perfect a physical embodiment of womanhood. She was slightly tallerthan her rival in his thoughts, and her costume gave an impression ofadditional height. Apparently she was in the best of spirits, laughingoften with her partner and an elderly gentleman who danced oppositeto her, and who was full of old-time flourishes and jollity. At lastGraydon thought, resentfully, "She is indeed changed. That's the styleof life she is looking forward to, and she wishes no embarrassment oradvice from me. That dancing-jack, Henderson, and others of his sortare to be her 'friends' also, no doubt. Very well, I know how toconsole myself;" and he turned his eyes resolutely to Miss Wildmere.

  In the galop that followed he naturally danced with his quondamsister, and Mr. Henderson with Miss Wildmere. Graydon was the lastone to show feeling in public or do anything to cause remark. Now thatMadge possessed in her partner the same advantage that Miss Wildmerehad enjoyed, the admiring lookers-on were at a loss to decide which ofthe two girls bore the palm; and Graydon acknowledged that the formerinvalid's step had a lightness and an elasticity which he had neverknown to be surpassed, and that she kept time with him as if hisvolition were hers. She showed no sign of weariness, even after hebegan to grow fatigued. As he danced he remembered how he had carried"the little ghost" on his arm, then tossed her, breathless fromscarce an effort, on the lounge, whence she looked at him in laughingaffection. This strong, superb creature was indeed another and analien being, and needed no aid from him. Before he was consciousof flagging in his step, she said, quietly, "You are growing tired,Graydon. Suppose we return to the piazza."

  "Yes," he said, a trifle bitterly, "you are the stronger now. The'little ghost' has vanished utterly."

  "A woman is better than a ghost," was her reply.

  He and Miss Wildmere strolled away down the same path on which Madgehad told him that she could not be his sister. Mr. Muir was tired,and went to his room in no very amiable humor. Mrs. Muir waited forGraydon's return, feeling that, although the office of chaperon had ina sense been forced upon her, she could not depart without seeing MissWildmere again. The young lady at last appeared, and, believing thatshe had made all the points she cared for that night, did not tax Mrs.Muir's patience beyond a few moments. While she lingered she lookedcuriously at Madge, who was going through a Virginia reel as if shefully shared in the decided and almost romping spirit with which itwas danced. She was uncertain whether or not she saw a possiblerival in Graydon's thoughts, but she knew well that she had founda competitor for sovereignty in all social circles where they mightappear together. This fact in itself was sufficient to secure thearrogant girl's ill-will and jealousy. A scarcely perceptible smile,that boded no good for poor Madge, passed over her face, and then shetook a cordial leave of Graydon, and retired with Mrs. Muir.

  He remained at the window watching, with a satirical smile, the scenewithin. People of almost every age, from elderly men and matrons downto boys and girls, were participating in the old-fashioned dance. Theair was resonant with laughter and music. In the rollicking fun Madgeappeared to have found her element. No step was lighter or quickerthan hers, and merriment rippled away before her as if she were thegenius of mirth. Her dark eyes were singularly brilliant, and burnedas
with a suppressed excitement.

  "She is bound to have her fling like the rest, I suppose," hemuttered; "and that romp is more to her than the offer of a brother'slove and help--an offer half forgotten already, no doubt. Yet shepuzzles one. She never was a weak girl mentally. She was always alittle odd, and now she is decidedly so. Well, I will let her gang herain gate, and I shall go mine."

  He little dreamed that she was seeking weariness, action that wouldexhaust, and that the expression of her eyes, so far from being causedby excitement, was produced by feelings deeper than he had ever known.When the music ceased he sauntered up and told her that her sister hadretired.

  "I had better follow her example," she said.

  "Would you not like a brief stroll on the piazza? After exertionsthat, in you, seem almost superhuman, you must be warm."

  "Why more superhuman in me than in others?"

  "Simply because of my old and preconceived notions."

  "I fear I am disappointing you in every respect. I had hoped to giveyou pleasure."

  "Oh, well, Madge, I see we must let the past go and begin again."

  "Begin fairly, then, and not in prejudice."

  "Does it matter very much to you how I begin?"

  "I shall not answer such questions."

  "I am glad to see that you can enjoy yourself so thoroughly. You cannow look forward to a long career of happiness, Madge, since you canobtain so much from a reel."

  "You do not know what I am looking forward to."

  "Why?"

  "Because you are not acquainted with me."

  "I thought I was at one time."

  "I became discontented with that time, and have tried to bedifferent."

  "And you must have succeeded beyond your wildest dreams."

  "Oh, no, I've only made a beginning. I should be conceit embodied if Ithought myself finished."

  "What is your supreme ambition, then?"

  "I am trying to be a woman, Graydon. There, I'm cool now. Good-night."

  "Very cool, Madge."

  He lighted a cigar and continued his walk, more perturbed than hecared to admit even to himself. Indeed, he found that he was decidedlyannoyed, and there seemed no earthly reason why there should have beenany occasion for such vexation. Of course he was glad that Madge hadbecome strong and beautiful. This would have added a complete charm totheir old relations. Why must she also become a mystery, or, rather,seek to appear one? Well, there was no necessity for solving themystery, granting its existence. "Possibly she would prefer aflirtation to fraternal regard; possibly--Oh, confound it! I don'tknow what to think, and don't much care. She is trying to become awoman! Who can fathom some women's whims and fancies? She thinks herimmature ideas, imbibed in an out-of-the-way corner of the world,the immutable laws of nature. Of one thing at least she is absolutelycertain--she can get on without me. I must be kept at too great adistance to be officious."

  This point settled, his own course became clear. He would be courtesyitself and mind his own business.

  "I fear I shall fail," murmured poor Madge, hiding her face in herpillow, while suppressed sobs shook her frame.