CHAPTER XIX.
UNDER A CLOUD.
Eva would never forget the sunny May day when her lover returned to Weston. Everything was so green and lovely on the wide grounds, the sky was so bright and blue, the flowers so sweet, and the pretty feathered songsters in the trees were fairly splitting their very throats with joyful songs of love that found a happy echo in her heart.
When Doctor Bertrand came into Eva’s ward that afternoon, she just happened to mention that Doctor Rupert had returned, and straightway the whole world was transformed, glorified, to Eva. Her eager heart leaped with joyful emotion and she turned her face quickly aside that no one might see the lovely crimson that overspread it at mention of his name.
Doctor Bertrand just smiled to herself and passed on without a word to betray that her kind eyes had read the secret of two fond hearts. She thought it was a pretty love story that was going to end happily in a wedding, as all sweet love stories mostly ended.
And she did not dream of the terrible barrier between those two yearning hearts—the barrier of a kinsman’s blood!
For the carping world said that Doctor Ludingtonhad murdered Terry Groves—that his hands were red with his foeman’s blood. No one excused him because it had really been an accident. They chose to put the worst construction on the tragedy.
So that if the young doctor had returned to them from the dead, the side of the clan that sympathized with the Groves family would have been ready to howl execrations upon his head.
Of the keen, bitter pain in his heart at his fate, at the isolation from home and parents, who could tell? He bore it in silence for the sake of the one sweet drop in the bitter cup.
In renouncing home and kindred love, in giving up his birthright and his name, there was one compensation that would pay for all—he would be free to woo and win little Eva.
Once he had put the past behind him there was no looking backward, no futile regret for what was lost. Of all that the wide world could have offered him he would have chosen bonnie, dark-eyed Eva as the best of all.
And fate was going to grant him his heart’s desire.
He was not conceited, but he had read aright the blushing cheek, the flashing eyes, the trembling tones. Her young heart had answered to his own.
But for Doctor St. Clair’s malicious interference he would have told her his love that day beneath the trees, when he had read her heart by the light of his own.
Wearily the day passed in the round of mutual dutiesthat held them apart until evening, when they met at last in the ballroom where the weekly dance for the patients was given.
“Will you give me a dance?” the dear voice said suddenly in her ear, as she was watching with casual amusement the gyrations of an insane woman whirling around with a hospital employee, the manager of the ice plant.
She started with joy, and looked up at him in a little tremor.
“You startled me,” she said, putting out her little hand to meet his, and trembling at his warm, strong clasp.
“Did you not know I had come, little Eva?”
“Oh, yes; but I did not know you were in the ballroom.”
“I came in to look for you. My eyes were aching for the sight of you. Will you dance with me? Or would you prefer to take a stroll outdoors? There is a lovely moon”—eagerly.
“I prefer outdoors,” she answered, letting her eyes droop shyly before his ardent, questioning glance.
He was leading her out when Doctor St. Clair hurried after them.
“Miss Somerville, will you not give me one dance?”
She hesitated, recoiling from him in secret repugnance, and he added hastily:
“It is obligatory, you know, on the attendants to take part in the dancing for the pleasure of the patients.”
“Very well; I will dance when I come back. I am going out now for a breath of fresh air. Excuse me,” and she brushed hastily past him and disappeared with her lover by her side.
The doctor stood looking after them with an ominous frown.
“How I hate that upstart fellow! I wish I could find out something bad enough about him to warrant his dismissal from the hospital. Wonder if I could not do a little detective work to that end. The governor ought to know all about him. He recommended him to the board. What if I take a run down to Charleston and interview his excellency on Doctor Rupert’s antecedents,” he was musing to himself, when a white hand clasped his arm and a gay voice exclaimed:
“Come, doctor dear, and try that new waltz with me! It’s exquisite. No use frowning after Rupert. He has cut you out with the little Somerville beauty, that’s clear.”
“Who cares?” he replied curtly, encircling her waist closely with his arm and whirling her into the ring of merry waltzers, while his angry thoughts followed the handsome young pair who had gone out into the moonlighted grounds to enjoy each other’s society while he was left to be bored by sprightly Miss Blue, of whom he was weary now, though he could not shake her off.
Eager to escape from the uncongenial air and company of the ballroom, the lovers wandered out intothe beautiful grounds beneath the light of the full May moon shining in the blue and starry sky, a night so sweet and balmy it seemed made for love and lovers.
The young doctor had drawn Eva’s small hand within his arm, and as they slowly paced the broad, secluded walk, he pressed her arm close to his heart, murmuring:
“You received my letter, little Eva?”
“What letter?”
“The one I wrote from Parkersburg the day after I went away.”
“Then you wrote to me? I did not receive it,” she answered, quickly remembering how she had secretly longed for a letter, and felt disappointed because she had failed to receive it.
“That is very strange. I wrote you a long letter and addressed it to the hospital, Drawer H, as is usual. It must have miscarried, or—been intercepted,” exclaimed Doctor Rupert, wondering if he had a rival for Eva’s affection in the place, not dreaming of the superintendent’s admiration for the lovely girl.
“I received the bonbons only—oh, how sorry I am that I missed the letter! Now, Doctor Rupert, you must begin and tell me every word that was in it,” cried Eva radiantly, her eyes beaming with pleasure as she lifted them innocently to his handsome face.
Doctor Rupert smiled tenderly down into the eager face, and answered softly:
“I shall be very glad to tell you in a few words thesubject of my long letter. Much has been written on that subject, and the same story has been told by many lips and eyes, but three words will comprise it all—I love you.”
Little Eva started tremulously, but her dark eyes clung to his face without faltering as he paused and continued passionately:
“Yes, I love you, Eva, with all the strength and passion of my honest manhood, and I pledge you my lifelong devotion if you will be my wife. Is my love returned?”
The little golden head was very close to his breast while he uttered the words, and the next moment it drooped against him and nestled there with a confidence sweeter than all words.
His arms went quickly round the yielding form and he bent his lips to hers, sealing their betrothal with a caress that recreated the whole world for them with its rapturous joy.
Then he led his darling to the same seat they had occupied the day his declaration of love had been twice interrupted, and, sitting down together, with arms about each other, they fell into tender converse, little recking how fast the hours flew, or that the ball was over, until they saw the few people of the town who always attended to look on going home through the moonlighted grounds.
“Heavens! we have been here over two hours, but it does not seem more than five minutes!” he exclaimed, looking at his watch.
“I must go in at once. It is almost midnight,” Eva cried, in a little alarm, and rising to fly from him, but he walked by her side, saying:
“I am going back with you. If there is any fault to be found, we will say that we are engaged and will be married soon.”
“Oh,” she cried, in shy alarm, for they had not set the day yet.
“Yes, we must be married soon,” he repeated tenderly. “My little Eva must not toil her life out here. She must have some one to love and care for her in a dear little home of her own. Now, good night, my little darling. You must dream of me, as I shall of you,” kissing her fondly in the shadows before they parted outside the door.
He remained outside to smoke a cigar and revel in his happiness, while Eva hurried along the dim corridor to her own little room.
Doctor St. Clair’s office door opened and he intercepted her, saying in a low, imperative tone:
“I have been waiting for you. Come in; I must speak to you a moment. You need not hesitate. There is no harm coming in my office. Many of the young ladies come in here to make their reports.”
“I am very sleepy. Will you please wait till to-morrow?” she faltered shrinkingly.
“I cannot wait. Come,” he said so sternly that Eva followed him like a frightened child over the threshold.
“Sit down,” pushing forward an easy-chair.
“I—I don’t want to sit down, please,” she answered, just leaning for support against the back of the chair, and continuing nervously:
“If you are going to discharge me, please say so at once, doctor, without scolding me, and let me go.”
“Why should I scold you?” smiling.
“For shirking my duty—dancing with the patients. But I really forgot all about it. I was talking, and—time slipped away so fast.”
“You must have found Doctor Rupert very entertaining to remain out with him until so unseemly an hour,” grimly.
“I—I did not know it was getting so late! I am very sorry,” Eva murmured, with a kindling blush.
“Well, I shall not discharge you this time, nor scold you, though you have acted very imprudently, staying out so late with a young man whose character is almost wholly unknown to you. You must not let it occur again.”
“Oh, no, sir,” she answered meekly, edging toward the door, but he said quickly:
“One minute more. I would have discharged any other attendant for such an offense, but I am interested in you, as I have told you before. In fact, I have been planning for several days a pleasure trip for you.”
Eva caught her breath with a gasp of surprise. Her employer continued with an ingratiating smile:
“We have to send an attendant for an insane girlat Clarksburg. It would be a pleasant trip—all your expenses paid. Would you like to go?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I am not used to travel. I should be afraid!” Eva cried out quickly, deprecatingly.
“You dear little coward!” he cried gayly. “But I was about to explain that you need not go alone. I am going to Washington to-morrow and would bear you company on the trip. In fact, so well do I like you, little Eva, that I will take you to Washington with me for a day or so and show you all the sights and give you a good time generally. Then you could go and get the patient from Clarksburg and come back here, and no one be the wiser of your jolly little escapade. What do you say to my clever plan, my pretty little dear?”
Her great eyes blazed on him as he tried to approach her, continuing:
“I know that some of the other girls would give anything for such a trip with me, but I asked you first because I love you best—ay, better than any one else on earth! My little darling, you need not hesitate. You would never be found out.”
“How dare you make your vile proposition to me?” she found voice to utter scathingly.
“Tut, tut; you need not be so prudish, little Eva. I know all about your shady past—how your cousin killed a man that he found in your room at midnight. Do you pretend to have reformed your morals now?”
How she hated the leering smile, the sneering tone; how she longed to strike him in his face, to throw open the door and denounce him to every one.
Yet her horror of a scene and of another scandal associated with her pure name made her hesitate and answer brokenly:
“I am under a cloud, Doctor St. Clair, but I am innocent. Doctor Ludington came to my room that night in a professional capacity alone, and I must beg you not to regard me as a sinner, but as a martyr.”
His low, incredulous laugh grated harshly on her ears, and stung her into adding:
“I am loath to betray you and make a scandal of your vile propositions to a supposedly defenseless girl, but I had better say that the next insult from you will be reported to my future husband.”
“You are to marry!” he exclaimed, in astonishment, mixed with grief and chagrin.
With flashing eyes and her head thrown back in pride, Eva answered:
“I am betrothed to Doctor Rupert, and we are to be married soon.”
The man’s face grew deeply livid with rage and disappointment. He fairly struggled to hold himself in check, and Eva started quickly toward the door, eager to escape.
At that he started forward, breathing hoarsely and muttering vengefully:
“Consider yourself discharged from the hospital,Miss Somerville, on account of being out so late with a young man to-night.”
She bowed coldly without replying, and darted from the room, almost falling over Ada Winton in her headlong flight.
“Where away so fast, my dear, that you bolt out of the doctor’s office like a shot fired from a cannon?” cried that young lady, catching her around the waist.
“Oh, Ada, come to my room and I will tell you all!” Eva sobbed in hysterical excitement.
“The villain! To think of insulting you again, after your first decided repulse!” exclaimed the young lady indignantly, when she had heard the piteous story, and she added warmly:
“Do not worry yourself, dear, because you are discharged. I have an aunt living in Weston who will receive you as a guest until you are married to your handsome doctor.”
“But, oh, Ada, I have no money for anything—neither to pay my board nor to buy a wedding gown,” sobbed the hapless girl.
“Aunt Susan will not charge you any board, my little dear, and I will lend you my best white gown for your wedding.”