CHAPTER XVIDECLARATION OF LOVE
While Brownie was weeping out her misery alone, and trying to plan what was best for the future, Isabel Coolidge and her mother were examining, more at their leisure, the beautiful ornaments, which had so excited their admiration and astonishment and which they both began now to covet.
Isabel tried the effect of each separate piece upon herself.
To do the two women justice, they really believed that the jewels had been stolen.
“Mamma, this tiara of opals, pearls, and diamonds will be just the thing for me to wear next Wednesday night at Lady Peasewell’s; see how becoming it is.” And Isabel turned from the mirror, where she had been catering to her vanity for the last half hour.
“It is lovely, my dear; but I doubt whether your father will be willing you should wear it. His ideas are peculiar, you know.”
“He won’t be here, mamma. You know he said he should not be home for a week or ten days; so he need not know anything about it.”
“I am at a loss to know whether it is best to tell him anything about this affair,” said Mrs. Coolidge, musingly.
“But what excuse will you give him for bouncing MissDouglas?” asked Isabel, who had a taste for using slang once in a while.
“Her insolence to me ought to be a sufficient reason, I think,” her mother answered, flushing as she recalled the governess’ keen shafts and haughty manner.
“No one knows anything of the matter but you and I; why not keep still about it?” urged Isabel, eagerly.
“My only fear is, that she will take the law, as she threatened, and then your father would have to know about it. Besides, he will be very angry at the way we gained possession of them, and then there will be no end of trouble.”
She very well knew that if that day’s doings became known to her honorable husband he would insist upon her returning the casket to Miss Douglas, and tell her that she was meddling with what was none of her business.
She began to fear that she had been rash in pursuing the course she had, and she heartily wished that Isabel had kept her meddlesome fingers at home. And yet, every time her eyes rested upon the glittering wealth with which her daughter was toying, the desire to possess them became stronger.
“Pshaw!” returned Isabel, “she’ll never dare take the law, and, if she does, who will believe her, providing the jewels cannot be found, and we are very much astonished and indignant at being accused of taking them from her!”
The two women gazed at each other in silence for a moment.
“Isabel, you would not dare do such a thing—it would be stealing and lying,” said her mother, in a whisper.
“Oh, no, mamma; you are too conscientious altogether,” returned the girl, shrugging her shoulders, and trying on Miss Mehetabel’s beautiful engagement ring at the same time. “We both agree,” she went on, “that they have already been stolen, and we only take possession of them for a little while, until we can find the true owner. I’m sure I would give them up at once if we could find the person whom they belong to. Of course, if we should acknowledge that we have them in our possession we should have to give them up, and, whether Miss Douglas proved her property or not, we should lose them. At any rate,let us hold on to them, and wait a while to see what she will do.”
“I am afraid it will not do for you to wear them, Isabel; you may meet the very person to whom they belong, here in London.”
“So much the better, then, mamma; we shall know that we did right in taking them from Miss Douglas, and can make our explanations and restore them. It strikes me that my suggestion is a very wise one, after all,” concluded the artful girl, who was determined to keep the jewels.
“You may be right, but I don’t feel exactly easy about the matter; above all things, don’t let Wilbur know anything about it,” returned Mrs. Coolidge, fearing more and more that there might be trouble ahead for them.
“No, indeed, mother, and, as I began this business, I’ll take charge of these jewels, and you need know nothing about them, if your conscience is troubling you.”
Isabel replaced the jewels in the casket, shut it, and, with a laugh, started for her own room.
As she opened the door, which had stood ajar ever since Brownie went out, she encountered Wilbur, face to face.
She would rather have faced an alligator at that moment.
“What is it you don’t wish Wilbur to know, and what jewels are you talking about?” he smilingly demanded, as he barred her passage.
He had come up just in time to hear their last remarks.
“That is my secret,” she replied, trying to turn the matter off playfully, though her heart was beating like a trip-hammer.
“Are they in that box? Let me see.”
Before she hardly knew what he was about, he had taken it from her and opened it.
“Where did you get these?” he asked, in great surprise.
“They are borrowed,” Isabel replied, giving her mother a significant look.
“Borrowed! who could lend such a valuable collection as this?” he asked, beginning to feel, from their appearance, that all was not right.
“Ah,” he added, with a start, after he had examinedthem more carefully, “here are those ornaments which Miss Douglas wore the other evening. Do the others belong to her, too?”
They saw that it would be useless to try to keep their secret from him, and little by little he drew it all from their reluctant lips. A more indignant mortal never trod the earth than Wilbur Coolidge when he got at the truth of the matter.
He demanded that the jewels be returned at once to Miss Douglas, and a suitable apology made for their insulting treatment of her.
An angry scene ensued, which Mrs. Coolidge finally put an end to by coming forward, taking the casket from her son’s hand, and locking it within her husband’s safe, which stood in the room.
“Now, Wilbur, be so kind as to hold your tongue,” she said, angrily, “you have made a fool of yourself with this girl. I intended to keep these things until your father returns, and see if he believes a poor governess came by these things lawfully.”
“You women are regular tyrants, and I reckon when father does return there will be a different state of things,” he replied, with flashing eyes.
“Oblige me by dropping the subject, my son; you are interfering in what does not concern you in the least,” returned Mrs. Coolidge, coldly.
“I shall make it my business, madam, mother mine, just as soon as the law will allow, if the poor, abused darling will let me,” he muttered, as he angrily left the room.
He watched for Brownie to come down all the evening, but she remained in her own room, too utterly miserable to desire to meet anyone.
Viola and Alma inquired for her at tea time, but were told that she was indisposed, and would not come down.
Viola afterward stole upstairs with a cup of tea and a tempting plate of cold chicken and toast, but Miss Douglas’ door was locked, and she could not gain admittance, so she was forced to take it back again to the dining-room.
The next morning Mrs. Coolidge and Isabel started off on a shopping expedition, and as the carriage drove fromthe door, Wilbur rang the library bell, and desired the servant who appeared to ask Miss Douglas to grant him a few moments’ conversation. The young man was pale and excited, and after the servant disappeared, he walked the floor nervously.
Brownie soon came down, looking haggard and wan, her usually bright eyes heavy and lusterless, and great dark circles underneath them.
Wilbur hastened forward to meet her as she opened the door.
“My dear Miss Douglas,” he said, flushing deeply, “I do not know what to say to you, but I am more indignant than I can express at the treatment you received yesterday.”
Brownie smiled wearily, though her lips quivered at his kindly words. It was so comforting to be treated civilly.
“Can I do anything for you, Miss Douglas?” Wilbur asked, eagerly, his heart deeply touched by her sorrowful appearance.
“Thank you; I do not suppose it is in your power to do the one thing I wish—give me back my jewels, for they are mine, Mr. Coolidge, notwithstanding it seems improbable for a poor girl to own such valuables,” she replied, her color rising.
“I do not doubt it in the least,” he answered, impulsively. “I know that you are truth and purity itself, and, believe me, you shall yet have your own.”
“Ah! can I?” she interrupted, her face lighting up with its wonted beauty for a moment.
Oh, how he loved her; and how it thrilled him, that any words of his should have the power to make her beautiful countenance brighten like that.
“Yes, you shall have them again,” he said. “I cannot restore them to you to-day, but just as soon as my father returns I shall acquaint him with what has happened, and he will see that justice is done.”
“Thank you,” Brownie said, appreciating his kindness, yet fearing that his mother and sister would outwit him, and influence his father against her.
“I feel deeply mortified,” he went on, dropping his eyes, “that anyone who is akin to me should be guilty ofdoing what my sister did yesterday; and the treatment which you afterward received—there can be no excuse for it.”
“Do not speak of it again, Mr. Coolidge; it is past and cannot be recalled. Your kindness and sympathy have lightened my heart already; and as I go away, it will be a comfort to know that I have your esteem and friendship.”
“Go away! What do you mean?” he asked looking up startled.
His mother had not told him that she was going away.
“Surely you do not think that I would remain where my truth and honesty are called in question!” she replied, with dignity.
“Where will you go?” and his brow contracted with pain.
She could not stay; it were folly to think of it, he knew.
But it was like taking the sun from the heavens to have her go.
“I do not know,” she said, with a sigh, and her tone, so sadly sweet, moved him to his very soul.
She had been with them less than three months, but during that time she had grown to be the one woman in the world to him.
He had learned to watch and live upon her every motion and expression, to listen eagerly for her footsteps and even the soft rustle of her clothing. The lightest sound of her voice, her very presence, thrilled him as nothing else had ever done before. He had lived a new life since her coming. He knew he was a better man for it.
She had stirred into being new motives and purposes, and he was beginning to think of forsaking this idle way of living, and of trying to fit himself to be useful in the world, and worthy of her.
And now she was being driven away like a criminal, and insulted by his own kin.
If she should go away thus, with this dreadful cloud hanging over her, what would become of her? Who would take her in?
His pulses throbbed wildly; he grew desperate with the thought.
“You do not know? Will you let me tell you where to go?” he breathed, bending eagerly toward her, his face flushing hotly, and his eyes glowing with the wild love which moved him.
She looked up a little surprised by his manner, and her clear eyes fell before his passionate gaze.
“Darling,” he cried, seizing her little hands, “you do not know where to go? Come to me. My dear, my dear, you do not know how I have learned to love you since you came like a ray of light into this household. Come to me, Meta—be my wife, and no stain shall touch you; they shall not dare to breath aught against you; place your hand in mine, and I will plant myself between you and all harm. My love, my love, I have found you. I have seen many fair women, but now I have found my fate, the sweetest fate man ever found. Say, dearest, will you be my wife?”
She sat before him white, and still, and dumb.
“Brownie, you do not answer me. Will you not crown my life with the blessing of your love? They shall never harm you. We will go away where they cannot trouble you by so much as a word. Will you not speak and give me hope?”
She drew back from him, pained and sorrowful.
“Mr. Coolidge, if I speak at all, it must be to crush all hope of any such thing as you desire,” she said, sadly, with downcast eyes and crimson cheeks.
“Meta! Miss Douglas! no!” he cried, hoarsely, his handsome face clouding with pain.
“Yes, Mr. Coolidge; hard as it is for me to wound you thus, when you offer me the greatest homage a woman can ever receive—the love of an honest heart—yet I cannot bid you hope, for I do not love you in return.”
“You have not had time to think of it. I have startled you with my abruptness; you do not know your own heart yet,” he said, his lips growing white and quivering.
“I have not, indeed, had time to think, for I did not at once imagine that you cherished any such feelings toward me. But my heart does not respond to yours. No, Mr. Coolidge, I cannot be your wife.”
“Are you sure—are you very sure you can never loveme, Meta?” he pleaded, while great drops came out upon his forehead.
“Quite sure,” she said, firmly, though kindly.
“Brownie, Brownie, when I love you so; when I have listened eagerly for the sound of your footfall; when even the tone of your voice has been music to me from the first; when every fiber of my being has twined itself about you! Oh! it is too cruel; I cannot have it so—only give me one little ray of hope, and I will wait years, if need be.”
His voice sounded like the cry of the lost, and he caught his breath with a hard, dry sob, that made the young girl’s heart ache with pity for him.
She arose from the chair where she had been sitting, and the great tears rolled swiftly over her flushed cheeks.
“Mr. Coolidge, be assured if I could truthfully speak the words you wish, I would do so; but it cannot be, and as it will only give us both pain to meet again, let me say good-by to you here, for I go this evening. Please accept my thanks for your kindness to me, and let me still be your friend.”
She held out her hand to him and he took it, his whole frame shaking with the great bitterness which well-nigh crushed him.
He lifted it to his lips, then broke down entirely, and with one quick movement, gathered her close in his arms, and pressed his lips to her white brow.
“My darling, my darling,” he groaned, “forgive me, but you can never know the wretchedness of this moment to me.”
At that moment the library door sprang open, and Mrs. Coolidge and Isabel stood upon the threshold.