The Masked Bridal Page 17

  CHAPTER XV.

  "OH, GOD! I KNEW IT! YOU ARE--ISABEL!"

  With a somewhat reluctant air, Emil Correlli offered his arm to hissister and led her toward the woman around whom a group ofdistinguished people had gathered, and whom she was entertaining withan ease and grace that proclaimed her perfectly at home among the_creme de la creme_ of society.

  She appeared not to perceive the approach of her hostess and herbrother, but continued the animated conversation in which she wasengaged.

  A special observer, however, would have noticed the peculiar firewhich began to burn in her beautiful eyes.

  When Mr. Correlli presented his sister, she turned with fascinatinggrace, making a charming acknowledgment, although she did not offerher hostess her hand.

  "You are very welcome, Mrs. Stewart," Mrs. Goddard remarked, inresponse to some words of apology for being a guest in the housewithout a previous acquaintance. "I only regret that we have not metbefore."

  "Thanks; I, too, deplore the complication of circumstances which hasprevented an earlier meeting," was the sweet-voiced response.

  But there was a peculiar shading in the remark which, somehow, gratedharshly upon Anna Goddard's ears and nerves.

  "Who is she, anyhow?" she questioned within herself with a strangefeeling of unrest and perplexity. "I never even heard of her untilafter Emil came; yet there is something about her that makes me feelas if we had met in some other sphere."

  She stole a searching glance at the woman's face, only to find hergreat, luminous eyes fastened upon her with an equally intent gaze.

  "Ah!" and with this voiceless ejaculation and a great inward start,some long dormant memory seemed suddenly to have been aroused withinher.

  There was an instant of awkwardness; then madam, who seldom allowedanything to disturb her self-possession, remarked:

  "I am sorry, Mrs. Stewart, that you did not arrive earlier to witnessour little play."

  But while she was giving utterance to this polite regret, she wassaying to herself:

  "Yes, there certainly is a look about her that reminds me of--Ugh!She may possibly be a relative, or the resemblance may be merely acoincidence. All the same, I shall not like her any the better forrecalling that horror to me."

  "Thank you," Mrs. Stewart replied; "no doubt I should have enjoyed it,especially as, I am told, it was original with you and terminated in areal and very pretty wedding."

  "Yes; my brother finds that he must leave the city earlier than heanticipated; and, as he was anxious to take his bride with him, hechose this opportunity to celebrate his marriage, and to introduce hiswife to our friends."

  "Ah! I did not even know that Monsieur Correlli was contemplatingmatrimony. Who is the favored lady of his choice?" Mrs. Stewartinquired.

  "A Miss Edith Allen."

  "Edith Allen!" repeated the beautiful stranger, with a start.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Goddard, regarding her with surprise, but unmixedwith anxiety. "Did you ever meet her?"

  "Is she very fair and lovely, with golden hair and deep-blue eyes, atall, slender figure, and charming manners?" eagerly questioned Mrs.Stewart.

  "Yes, you have described her exactly," answered madam, yet secretlymore disturbed than before; "but I am surprised that you should knowher, for she has been in the city only a short time, and I did notsuppose she had made a single acquaintance outside the family."

  "Oh, I cannot lay claim to an acquaintance with her, as I have onlyseen her once, and our meeting was purely accidental," the ladyresponded. "She rendered me efficient service one day when she was outfor a walk, and I inquired her name."

  She then proceeded to explain the nature of that service and theaccident that had called it forth, and concluded by remarking:

  "Allow me to say I think that Monsieur Correlli has shown excellenttaste in his choice of a wife. I was charmed with the young lady, andI would like to meet her again. Will you introduce me?" and she lookedeagerly about the room in search of the graceful form and lovely facewhich she was so desirous of seeing.

  "I am very sorry that I cannot comply with your request," said Mrs.Goddard, flushing slightly; "but Edith is rather delicate and thereception, after the marriage, was such a strain upon her that shefainted and was obliged to retire."

  "That was very unfortunate," Mrs. Stewart observed, while she searchedher companion's face curiously, "but I trust that I may have thepleasure of meeting her later."

  "I cannot promise as to that," madam replied, "as it is my brother'sintention to go abroad as soon as he can complete his arrangements todo so, although no date has been set as yet. But--have you ever met myhusband. Mrs. Stewart?" she inquired, as that gentleman was seenapproaching their way that moment.

  "No, I have never had that honor," the lady returned; then added, witha light laugh: "I feel very much like an intruder to be here to-nightas a stranger to both my host and hostess."

  "Pray do not be troubled on that account," madam hastened cordially toreply: "any friend of my brother would be a welcome guest, and I amcharmed to have made your acquaintance."

  "Thank you," responded the beautiful stranger; but madam marveled atthe line of white encircling the scarlet lips, as she signaled to herhusband and called him by name:

  "Gerald."

  He glanced up, and both women noticed the expression of weariness andtrouble upon his brow.

  "You have not been introduced to Emil's friend, I think," his wifecontinued. "Allow me to present Mrs. Stewart--Mrs. Stewart, myhusband, Mr. Goddard."

  The gentleman bowed with all his accustomed courtesy, but did notfairly get a glimpse of the lady's face until they both assumed anupright position again, when he found himself looking straight intothe magnificent eyes of his guest.

  As he met them it seemed as if some one had stabbed him to the heart,so sudden and terrible was the shock that he experienced.

  He changed an involuntary groan into a cough, but he could not havebeen more ghastly if he had been dead, while he continued to gaze uponher as if fascinated.

  "Ha! he has noticed it also!" said madam to herself, with a suddenheart-sinking.

  Then realizing that something must be done to relieve the awkwardnessof the situation, she hastened to observe:

  "Mrs. Stewart has only just arrived--she did not come in season towitness our little drama."

  Mr. Goddard murmured some polite words of regret, but feeling all thewhile as if he were turning to stone.

  Mrs. Stewart, however, responded in a pleasant vein, and chattedsociably for a few moments, when, some other friends joining them,more introductions followed, and the conversation became general.

  Gerald Goddard improved this opportunity to slip away; but his wife,who was covertly watching his every look and movement, noticed that hewalked with the uncertain step of one who was either blind orintoxicated.

  A feeling of depression settled upon her--a sense of impending evil,which, try as she would, she could neither forget nor shake off.

  She began to be very impatient of all the glitter, glare, and gayetyaround her, and told herself that she would be heartily glad when thelast dance was over, and the last guest had departed.

  Truly, there is many an aching heart hidden beneath costly raiment andglittering jewels; and society is, to a large extent, but a smilingmask in which people hold high revel over the tombs of dead hopes anddisappointed ambitions.

  But fashion and folly must have their time; and so, in spite ofmadam's heart-ache and weariness, the dancing and merriment went on,no one dreamed of the phantom memories and the ghosts from out thepast that were stalking about the beautiful rooms of that elegantmansion; or that its enviable (?) master and mistress were treadingupon the verge of a volcano which, at any moment, was liable to burstall bounds and pour forth its furious lava-tide to consume them.

  An hour later Mrs. Stewart again sought her hostess and wished hergood-night, remarking that circumstances which she could not controlcompelled her to take an early leave.

 
"Ah! that is unfortunate, for supper will shortly be announced; cannotyou possibly remain to partake of it?" madam urged, with cordialhospitality.

  "Thanks, no; but I am promising myself the pleasure of meeting youagain in the near future," Mrs. Stewart returned, shooting a searchingglance at her hostess.

  Her language and manner were perfect; but, for the second time thatevening, Anna Goddard noticed the peculiar shading in her words, and achill that was like a breath from an iceberg went shivering over her.

  She, however, replied courteously, and then Mrs. Stewart swept fromthe room upon the arm of her attendant.

  Many earnest and curious glances followed the stately couple, for thelady was reported to be immensely rich, while it had also beenwhispered that the gentleman attending her--a distinguishedartist--had long been a suitor for her hand; but, for some reason bestknown to herself, the lady had thus far turned a deaf ear to hisentreaties, although it was evident that she regarded him with thegreatest esteem, if not with sentiments of a tenderer nature.

  After passing through the covered walk leading to the house, the twoseparated--the gentleman to attend to having their carriage called,the lady to go upstairs for her wraps.

  As she was about to enter the dressing-room to get them, a picturehanging between two windows at the end of the hall attracted her eye.

  "Ah!" she exclaimed, catching her breath sharply, and moving swiftlytoward it, she seemed to forget everything, and stood, with claspedhands and heaving bosom, spell-bound before it.

  It represented a portion of an old Roman wall--a marvelouslypicturesque bit of scenery, with climbing vines that seemed to clingto the gray stones lovingly, as if to conceal their irregular linesand other ravages which time and the elements had made upon them;while here and there, growing out from its crevices, were clusters ofdelicate maiden-hair fern, the bright green of which contrastedbeautifully with the weather-beaten wall and the darker, richercoloring of the vines.

  Just underneath, partly in the shadow of the wall, there sat, upon arustic bench, a beautiful Italian girl, dressed in the costume of hercountry, while at her feet reclined her lover, his hat lying on thegrass beside him, his handsome face upturned to the maiden, whom itwas evident he adored.

  It was a charming picture, very artistic, and finely executed, whilethe subject was one that appealed strongly to the tenderest sentimentsof the human heart.

  But the face of the woman who was gazing upon it was deathly white.She was motionless as a statue, and seemed to have forgotten time,place, and her surroundings, as she drank in with her wonderful eyesthe scene before her.

  "It is the wall upon the Appian Way in Rome," she breathed at last,with a long-drawn sigh.

  "You are right, madam," responded a voice close at hand, the sound ofwhich caused the woman to press her clasped hands hard upon herheaving bosom, though she gave no other sign of being startled.

  The next moment she turned and faced the speaker.

  It was Gerald Goddard.

  "I heard no one approaching--I thought I was alone," she said, as shelifted those wonderful eyes of hers to his.

  He shrank from her glance as under a lightning flash that had burstupon him unawares.

  But quickly recovering himself, he courteously remarked:

  "Pardon me--I trust I have not startled you."

  "Only momentarily," she replied; then added: "I was admiring thispainting; it is very lovely and--most faithfully portrays the scenefrom which it was copied."

  "Ah! you recognize the--the locality?"

  "Perfectly."

  "You--you have been in--Rome?" the man faltered.

  "Oh, yes."

  "Recently?"

  There was a sort of breathless intensity about the man as he askedthis question.

  "No; I was in Rome--in the year 18--."

  At this response, Gerald Goddard involuntarily put out his hand andlaid it upon the balustrade, near which he was standing, while hegazed spell-bound into the proud, beautiful face before him, searchingit with wild, eager eyes.

  After a moment he partially recovered himself, and remarked:

  "Is it possible? I myself was in Rome during the same year and paintedthis picture at that time. Were--were you in the city long?" heconcluded, in a voice that trembled in spite of himself.

  "From January until--until June."

  For the second time that evening Mr. Goddard suppressed a groan with acough.

  "Ah! It is a singular coincidence, is it not, that I also was thereduring those months?" he finally managed to articulate.

  "A coincidence?" his companion repeated, with a slight lifting of hershapely brows, a curious gleam in her eyes. Then throwing back herhead with an air of defiance which was intensified by the glitter ofthose magnificent stones which crowned her lustrous hair, and with apeculiar cadence ringing through her tones, she observed: "Rome is alovely city--do you not think so? And, as it happened, I resided in adelightful portion of it. Possibly you may remember the locality. Itwas a charming little house, with beautiful trees--oleander, orange,and fig--growing all around the spacious court. This pretty ideal homewas Number 34, Via Nationale."

  The wretched man stared helplessly at her for one brief moment whenshe had concluded, then a cry of despair burst from him.

  "Oh, God! I knew it! You--you are Isabel?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you were not--you did not--"

  "Die? No," was the brief response; but the beautiful eyes looking sosteadily into his seemed to burn into his very soul.

  A mighty shudder shook Gerald Goddard from head to foot as he reeledbackward and leaned against the wall for support.

  "Oh, God!" he cried again, in a voice of agony; then his head droppedheavily upon his breast.

  His companion gazed silently upon him for a minute; then, turning, shebrushed by him without a word and went on into the dressing-room forher wraps.

  Presently she came forth again, enveloped from head to foot in a longgarment richly lined with fur, the scarlet lining of the hoodcontrasting beautifully with her clear, flawless complexion and herbrown eyes.

  Gerald Goddard still stood where she had left him.

  She would have passed him without a word, but he put out a tremblinghand to detain her.

  "Isabel!" he faltered.

  "Mrs. Stewart, if you please," she corrected, in a cold, proud tone.

  "Ha! you have married again!" he exclaimed, with a start, while hesearched her face with a despairing look.

  "Married again?" she repeated, with curling lips. "I have not soperjured myself."

  "But--but--"'

  "Yes, I know what you would say," she interposed, with a proud littlegesture; "nevertheless, I claim the matron's title, and 'Stewart' wasmy mother's maiden name," and she was about to pass on again.

  "Stay!" said the man, nervously. "I--I must see you again--I must talkfurther with you."

  "Very well," the lady coldly returned, "and I also have some thingswhich I wish to say to you. I shall be at the Copley Square Hotel onThursday afternoon. I will see you as early as you choose to call."

  Then, with an air of grave dignity, she passed on, and down thestairs, without casting one backward glance at him.

  The man leaned over the balustrade and watched her.

  She moved like a queen.

  In the hall below she was joined by her attendant, whom she welcomedwith a ravishing smile, and the next moment they had passed out of thehouse together.

  "Heavens! and I deserted that glorious woman for--a virago!" GeraldGoddard muttered, hoarsely, as he strode, white and wretched, to hisroom.