Daisy Brooks Part 15

"I refuse to marry you, Mr. Stanwick. Please go away and leave me in peace."

He laughed mockingly.

"I shall leave you for the present, my little sweetheart," he said, "but I shall return in exactly fifteen minutes. Hold yourself in readiness to receive me then; I shall not come alone, but bring with me a minister, who will be prepared to marry us. I warn you not to attempt to run away," he said, interpreting aright the startled glance she cast about her. "In yonder lane stands a trusty sentinel to see that you do not leave this house. You have been guarded thus since you entered this house; knowing your proclivity to escape impending difficulties, I have prepared accordingly. You can not escape your fate, my little wild flower!"

"No minister would marry an unwilling bride--he could not. I would fling myself at his feet and tell him all, crying out I was--I was--"

"You will do nothing of the kind," he interrupted, a hard, resolute look settling on his face. "I would have preferred winning you by fair means, if possible; if you make it impossible I shall be forced to a desperate measure. I had not intended adopting such stringent measures, except in an extreme case. Permit me to explain what I shall do to prevent you from making the slightest outcry." As he spoke he drew from his pocket a small revolver heavily inlaid with pearl and silver. "I shall simply hold this toy to your pretty forehead to prevent a scene. The minister will be none the wiser--he is blind? Do you think," he continued, slowly, "that I am the man to give up a thing I have set my heart upon for a childish whim?"

"Believe me," cried Daisy, earnestly, "it is no childish whim. Oh, Mr.

Stanwick, I want to be grateful to you--why will you torture me until I hate you?"

"I will marry you this very day, Daisy Brooks, whether you hate me or love me. I have done my best to gain your love. It will come in time; I can wait for it."

"You will never make me love you," cried Daisy, covering her face with her hands; "do not hope it--and the more you talk to me the less I like you. I wish you would go away."

"I shall not despair," said Stanwick, with a confident smile. "I like things which I find it hard to obtain--that was always one of my characteristics--and I never liked you so well as I like you now, in your defiant anger, and feel more determined than ever to make you my own."

Suddenly a new thought occurred to him as he was about to turn from her.

"Why, how stupid of me!" he cried. "I could not bring the parson here, for they think you my wife already. I must change my plan materially by taking you to the parsonage. We can go from here directly to the station. I shall return in exactly fifteen minutes with a conveyance.

Remember, I warn you to make no outcry for protection in the meantime.

If you do I shall say you inherited your mother's malady. I am well acquainted with your history, you see." He kissed his finger-tips to her carelessly. "_Au revoir_, my love, but not farewell," he said, lightly, "until we meet to be parted nevermore," and, with a quick, springy step Lester Stanwick walked rapidly down the clover-bordered path on his fatal errand.

In the distance the little babbling brook sung to her of peace and rest beneath its curling, limpid waters.

"Oh, mother, mother," she cried, "what was the dark sorrow that tortured your poor brain, till it drove you mad--ay, mad--ending in death and despair? Why did you leave your little Daisy here to suffer so? I feel such a throbbing in my own poor brain--but I must fly anywhere, anywhere, to escape this new sorrow. G.o.d has forgotten me."

She took one step forward in a blind, groping, uncertain way. "My last ray of hope has died out," she cried as the memory of his cruel words came slowly back to her, so mockingly uttered--"the minister would be none the wiser--he is blind."

CHAPTER XIV.

When Lester Stanwick returned to the cottage he found that quite an unexpected turn of events had transpired. Miss Burton had gone out to Daisy--she lay so still and lifeless in the long green gra.s.s.

"Heaven bless me!" she cried, in alarm, raising her voice to a pitch that brought both of the sisters quickly to her side. "Matilda, go at once and fetch the doctor. See, this child is ill, her cheeks are burning scarlet and her eyes are like stars."

At that opportune moment they espied the doctor's carriage proceeding leisurely along the road.

"Dear me, how lucky," cried Ruth, "Doctor West should happen along just now. Go to the gate, quick, Matilda, and ask him to stop."

The keen eyes of the doctor, however, had observed the figure lying on the gra.s.s and the frantic movements of the three old ladies bending over it, and drew rein of his own accord to see what was the matter.

He drew back with a cry of surprise as his eyes rested on the beautiful flushed face of the young girl lying among the blue harebells at his feet.

"I am afraid this is a serious case," he said, thoughtfully, placing his cool hand on her burning forehead; "the child has all the symptoms of brain fever in its worst form, brought on probably through some great excitement." The three ladies looked at one another meaningly.

"She must be taken into the house and put to bed at once," he continued, authoritatively, lifting the slight figure in his strong arms, and gazing pityingly down upon the beautiful flushed face framed in its sheen of golden hair resting against his broad shoulders.

The doctor was young and unmarried and impressible; and the strangest sensation he had ever experienced thrilled through his heart as the blue, flaring eyes met his and the trembling red lips incoherently beseeched him to save her, hide her somewhere, anywhere, before the fifteen minutes were up.

A low muttered curse burst from Stanwick's lips upon his return, as he took in the situation at a single glance.

As Daisy's eyes fell upon Stanwick's face she uttered a piteous little cry:

"Save me from him--save me!" she said, hysterically, growing rapidly so alarmingly worse that Stanwick was forced to leave the room, motioning the doctor to follow him into the hall.

"The young lady is my wife," he said, with unflinching a.s.surance, uttering the cruel falsehood, "and we intend leaving Elmwood to-day. I am in an uncomfortable dilemma. I must go, yet I can not leave my--my wife. She must be removed, doctor; can you not help me to arrange it in some way?"

"No, sir," cried the doctor, emphatically; "she can not be removed. As her physician, I certainly would not give my consent to such a proceeding; her very life would pay the forfeit."

For a few moments Lester Stanwick paced up and down the hall lost in deep thought; his lips were firmly set, and there was a determined gleam in his restless black eyes. Suddenly he stopped short directly before the doctor, who stood regarding him with no very agreeable expression in his honest gray eyes.

"How long will it be before the crisis is past--that is, how long will it be before she is able to be removed?"

"Not under three weeks," replied the doctor, determinedly.

"Good heavens!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, sharply. "Why, I shall have to--" He bit his lip savagely, as if he had been on the point of disclosing some guarded secret. "Fate is against me," he said, "in more ways than one; these things can not be avoided, I suppose. Well, doctor, as I am forced to leave to-day I shall leave her in your charge. I will return in exactly two weeks. She has brain fever, you say?"

The doctor nodded.

"You a.s.sure me she can not leave her bed for two weeks to come?" he continued, anxiously.

"I can safely promise that," replied the doctor, wondering at the strange, satisfied smile that flitted like a meteor over his companion's face for one brief instant.

"This will defray her expenses in the meantime," he said, putting a few crisp bank-notes into the doctor's hand. "See that she has every luxury."

He was about to re-enter the room where Daisy lay, but the doctor held him back.

"I should advise you to remain away for the present," he said, "your presence produces such an unpleasant effect upon her. Wait until she sleeps."

"I have often thought it so strange people in delirium shrink so from those they love best; I can not understand it," said Stanwick, with an odd, forced laugh. "As you are the doctor, I suppose your orders must be obeyed, however. If the fever should happen to take an unfavorable turn in the meantime, please drop a line to my address, 'care of Miss Pluma Hurlhurst, of Whitestone Hall, Allendale,'" he said, extending his card. "It will be forwarded to me promptly, and I can come on at once."

Again the doctor nodded, putting the card safely away in his wallet, and soon after Lester Stanwick took his departure, roundly cursing his luck, yet congratulating himself upon the fact that Daisy could not leave Elmwood--he could rest content on that score.

Meanwhile the three venerable sisters and the young doctor were watching anxiously at Daisy's bedside.

"Oh, my poor little dear--my pretty little dear!" sobbed Ruth, caressing the burning little hands that clung to her so tightly.

"Won't you hide me?" pleaded Daisy, laying her hot cheek against the wrinkled hand that held hers. "Hide me, please, just as if I were your own child; I have no mother, you know."

"G.o.d help the pretty, innocent darling!" cried the doctor, turning hastily away to hide the suspicious moisture that gathered in his eyes. "No one is going to harm you, little one," he said, soothingly; "no one shall annoy you."

"Was it so great a sin? He would not let me explain. He has gone out of my life!" she wailed, pathetically, putting back the golden rings of hair from her flushed face. "Rex! Rex!" she sobbed, incoherently, "I shall die--or, worse, I shall go mad, if you do not come back to me!"

The three ladies looked at one another questioningly, in alarm.

"You must not mind the strange ravings of a person in delirium," said the doctor, curtly; "they are liable to imagine and say all sorts of nonsense. Pay no attention to what she says, my dear ladies; don't disturb her with questions. That poor little brain needs absolute rest; every nerve seems to have been strained to its utmost."