CHAPTER X.
On the evening which followed the one just described in our lastchapter, Pluma Hurlhurst sat in her luxuriant boudoir of rose andgold, deeply absorbed in the three letters which she held in her lap.To one was appended the name of Septima Brooks, one was from Rex'smother, and the last--and by far the most important one--bore thesignature of Lester Stanwick.
Once, twice, thrice she perused it, each time with growing interest,the glittering light deepening in her dark, flashing eyes, and the redlips curling in a scornful smile.
"This is capital!" she cried, exultingly; "even better than I hadplanned. I could not see my way clear before, but now everything isclear sailing." She crossed over to the mirror, looking long andearnestly at the superb figure reflected there. "I am fair to lookupon," she cried, bitterly. "Why can not Rex love me?"
Ah! she was fair to look upon, standing beneath the softened glow ofthe overhanging chandelier, in her dress of gold brocade, with apomegranate blossom on her bosom, and a diamond spray flashing fromthe dark, glossy curls, magnificently beautiful.
"I was so sure of Rex," she said, bitterly; "if any one had said tome, 'Rex prefers your overseer's niece, Daisy Brooks, with her babyface and pink-and-white beauty,' I would have laughed them to scorn.Prefers her to me, the haughty heiress of Whitestone Hall, for whoselove, or even smile, men have sued in vain! I have managed the wholeaffair very cleverly!" she mused. "John Brooks does not return beforethe coming spring, and Septima is removed from my path mosteffectually, and if Lester Stanwick manages his part successfully, Ishall have little to fear from Daisy Brooks! How clever Lester was tolearn Rex had been to the Detective Agency! How he must have lovedthat girl!" she cried, hotly, with a darkening brow. "Ah, Rex!" shewhispered, softly (and for an instant the hard look died out of herface), "no one shall take you from me. I would rather look upon yourface cold in death, and know no one else could claim you, than see yousmile lovingly upon a rival. There is no torture under heaven sobitter to endure as the pangs of a love unreturned!" she cried,fiercely. She threw open the window and leaned far out into theradiant starlight, as the great clock pealed the hour of seven. "Rexhas received my note," she said, "with the one from his motherinclosed. Surely he will not refuse my request. He will come, if onlythrough politeness!" Again she laughed, that low, mocking laughpeculiar to her, as she heard the peal of the bell. "It is Rex," shewhispered, clasping her hands over her beating heart. "To-night I willsow the first seeds of distrust in your heart, and when they take rootyou shall despise Daisy Brooks a thousand-fold more than you love hernow. She shall feel the keen thrust of a rival's bitter vengeance!"
Casting a last lingering glance (so woman-like!) at the perfect facethe mirror reflected, to give her confidence in herself for the comingordeal, Pluma Hurlhurst glided down to the parlor, where Rex awaitedher.
It would have been hard to believe the proud, willful, polished youngheiress could lend herself to a plot so dark and so cruel as the oneshe was at that moment revolving in her fertile brain.
Rex was standing at the open window, his handsome head leaning wearilyagainst the casement. His face was turned partially toward her, andPluma could scarcely repress the cry of astonishment that rose to herlips as she saw how pale and haggard he looked in the softened light.She knew but too well the cause.
He was quite unaware of Pluma's presence until a soft, white, jeweledhand was laid lightly on his arm, and a low, musical voice whispered,"I am so glad you have come, Rex," close to his elbow.
They had parted under peculiar circumstances. He could fancy her atthat moment kneeling to him, under the glare of the lamp-light,confessing her love for him, and denouncing poor little clinging Daisywith such bitter scorn. His present position was certainly anembarrassing one to Rex.
"I am here in accordance with your request, Miss Hurlhurst," he said,simply, bowing coldly over the white hand that would cling to hisarm.
"You are very kind," she said, sweetly, "to forget that unpleasantlittle episode that happened at the fete, and come to-night. I believeI should never have sent for you," she added, archly, smiling up intohis face, "had it not been at the urgent request of your mother,Rex."
Pluma hesitated. Rex bit his lip in annoyance, but he was toocourteous to openly express his thoughts; he merely bowed again. Hemeant Pluma should understand all thoughts of love or tenderness mustforever more be a dead letter between them.
"My mother!" he repeated, wonderingly; "pardon me, I do notunderstand."
For answer she drew his mother's letter from her bosom and placed itin his hands.
He ran his eyes quickly over the page. The postscript seemed toenlighten him.
"The course of true love never runs smooth," it ran, "and I beseechyou, Pluma dear, if anything should ever happen, any shadow fall uponyour love, I beseech you send for Rex and place this letter in hishands. It would not be unwomanly, Pluma, because I, his mother, soearnestly request it; for, on your love for each other hangs my hopesof happiness. Rex is impulsive and willful, but he will respect hismother's wishes."
No thought of treachery ever crossed Rex's mind as he read the linesbefore him; he never once dreamed the ingeniously worded postscripthad been so cleverly imitated and added by Pluma's own hand. It neveroccurred to him for an instant to doubt the sincerity of the words heread, when he knew how dearly his mother loved the proud, haughtyheiress before him.
"I heard you were going away, Rex," she said, softly, "and I--I couldnot let you go so, and break my own heart."
"In one sense, I am glad you sent for me," said Rex, quietly ignoringher last remark. "I shall be much pleased to renew our friendship,Miss Pluma, for I need your friendship--nay, more, I need yoursympathy and advice more than I can express. I have always endeavoredto be frank with you, Pluma," he said, kindly. "I have never spokenwords which might lead you to believe I loved you."
He saw her face grow white under his earnest gaze and the white laceon her bosom rise and fall convulsively, yet she made him no answer.
"Please permit me to tell you why, Pluma," he said, taking her handand leading her to a sofa, taking a seat by her side. "I could not,"he continued, "in justice to either you or myself; for I never knewwhat love was," he said, softly, "until the night of the fete." Againhe paused; but, as no answer was vouchsafed him, he went on: "I neverknew what love meant until I met Daisy--little Daisy Brooks."
"Rex!" cried Pluma, starting to her feet, "you know not what yousay--surely you do not know! I would have warned you, but you wouldnot listen. I saw you drifting toward a yawning chasm; I stretched outmy arms to save you, but you would not heed me. You are a stranger tothe people around here, Rex, or they would have warned you. Sin isnever so alluring as in the guise of a beautiful woman. It is not toolate yet. Forget Daisy Brooks; she is not a fit companion for nobleRex Lyon, or pure enough to kiss an honest man's lips."
"For God's sake, Miss Hurlhurst, what do you mean?" cried Rex, slowlyrising from his seat and facing her, pale as death. "In Heaven's name,explain the accusations you have just uttered, or I shall go mad! If aman had uttered those words, I would have--"
The words died away on his lips; he remembered he was talking to awoman. Rex's eyes fairly glowed with rage as he turned on his heel andstrode rapidly up and down the room.
"Rex," said Pluma, softly advancing a step toward him, "it alwaysgrieves a true woman to admit the error of a fallen sister--they wouldshield her if such a thing were possible."
"I do not believe it," retorted Rex, impetuously. "Women seem to takea keen delight in slandering one another, as far as I can see. But youmight as well tell me yonder moon was treacherous and vile as to tellme Daisy Brooks was aught but sweet and pure--you could not force meto believe it."
"I do not attempt to force you to believe it. I have told you thetruth, as a loving sister might have done. None are so blind as thosewho will not see," she said, toying with the jewels upon her whitefingers.
"Daisy Brooks is as pure as yonder lily," cried Rex, "an
d I love heras I love my soul!"
His quivering, impassioned voice thrilled Pluma to her heart's core,and she felt a keen regret that this wealth of love was withheld fromher own hungry heart. Rex had never appeared so noble, so handsome,so well worth winning, in her eyes, as at that moment.
"I am sorry for you, Rex," sobbed Pluma, artfully burying her face inher lace kerchief, "because she can never return your love; she doesnot love you, Rex."
"Yes, she does love me," cried Rex. "I have settled it beyond adoubt."
"She has settled it beyond a doubt--is not that what you mean, Rex?"she asked, looking him squarely in the face, with a peculiar glitterin her sparkling dark eyes.
"There is something you are keeping from me, Pluma," cried Rex,seizing both of her hands, and gazing anxiously into the false, fair,smiling, treacherous face. "You know where Daisy has gone--in Heaven'sname, tell me! I can not endure the suspense--do not torture me,Pluma! I will forget you have spoken unkindly of poor little Daisy ifyou will only tell me where she has gone."
"Sit down, Rex," she said, soothingly; "I will not dare tell you whileyou look at me with such a gleaming light in your eyes. Promise not tointerrupt me to the end."
A nameless dread was clutching at his heart-strings. What could shemean? he asked himself, confusedly. What did this foul mystery mean?He must know, or he would go mad!
"You may speak out unreservedly, Miss Pluma," he said, hoarsely. "Igive you my word, as a gentleman, I shall not interrupt you, eventhough your words should cause me a bitter heart-pang."
He stood before her, his arms folded across his breast, yet no pang ofremorse crept into Pluma Hurlhurst's relentless heart for the cruelblow she was about to deal him.
"I must begin at the time of the lawn fete," she said. "That morninga woman begged to see me, sobbing so piteously I could not refuseher an audience. No power of words could portray the sad story ofsuffering and wrong she poured into my ears, of a niece--beautiful,young, passionate, and willful--and of her prayers and uselessexpostulations, and of a handsome, dissolute lover to whom thegirl was passionately attached, and of elopements she had frustrated,alas! more than once. Ah! how shall I say it!--the lover was not amarrying man."
Pluma stopped short, and hid her face again in her kerchief as if inutter confusion.
"Go on--go on!" cried Rex, hoarsely.
"'Lend me money,' cried the woman, 'that I may protect the girl bysending her off to school at once. Kind lady, she is young, likeyou, and I beg you on my knees!' I gave the woman the requiredamount, and the girl was taken to school the very next day. But theend was not there. The lover followed the girl--there must have beena preconcerted plan between them--and on the morning after she hadentered school she fled from it--fled with her lover. That loverwas Lester Stanwick--gay, fascinating, perfidious Lester--whom youknow but too well. Can you not guess who the girl was, Rex?"
The dark eyes regarding her were frozen with horror, his white lipsmoved, but no sound issued from them. She leaned nearer to him, herdark, perfumed hair swept across his face as she whispered, withstartling effect:
"The girl was Daisy Brooks, and she is at this moment in company withher lover! Heaven pity you, Rex; you must learn to forget her."