A Colony of Girls Part 22

"Valentine Farr," she repeated slowly, keeping her voice well under control. "It must be the same of course."

"Do you know him?" Helen asked the question absent-mindedly, for she was looking about her critically, to a.s.sure herself that everything in the room was as it should be.

"Oh, yes. I have known him for a long while." She had quite recovered from her surprise, and spoke lightly, in her usual tone. "What a small world it is after all."

"Dinner at seven, Lillian," Helen said to her as she closed the door; and then she was alone.

"So Val is here," she murmured. "Val, of all people in the world." She flung back her head with a reckless laugh, and began to pace up and down the room.

A flood of recollections swept over her; recollections which stirred her with a strange emotion. How long ago it seemed since sunny-tempered strong-willed Val Farr had wooed her in so masterful a way. What folly it had been, and yet a sweet folly withal! Miss Stuart paused midway in the room. Her face softened, and her beautiful mouth drooped tenderly. She had craved a splendid future which Val could not give her, so she had thrust his love out of her heart, and filled its place with the admiration and exactions of the gay world in which she moved. Val's misfortunes, his poverty, and his estrangement from his family gave her the opportunity which she sought to jilt him. She frowned with vexation as she recalled the look of scorn that he had cast at her when she had laid bare to him the aims and ambitions to which she had sacrificed their love. And after all, it had been a useless, needless exposure, for Val had come to her to give her her freedom. She told herself that she had acted wisely, she laughed to scorn the sentiment that was so hard to stifle--but no other man had ever taken Val's place.

They had met from time to time in Was.h.i.+ngton, during the past few years, and at each fresh meeting Farr had found himself more and more disillusioned concerning the woman whom he had once loved. Something of this Lillian Stuart divined, with a bitterness of spirit which she could not quell. His indifference stung her to the quick, and she could not renounce the hope that she might win him back, if only circ.u.mstances would give her the opportunity. Miss Stuart's thoughts brought her back to the present. She drew her brows together and stared meditatively before her, with eyes that saw nothing of the room around her:

"I wonder if Val is in love with one of these girls, and if so which one."

Jean Lawrence's face flashed before her. She struck her hands sharply together, and an angry light gleamed in her eyes.

"That would be a curious way of punis.h.i.+ng me. I have always detested that sister of Helen's."

She crossed to the mirror, and gazed critically at the picture presented there. A smile, slow and cruel, touched her lips, and with a satisfied air of triumph she turned away and began to dress for dinner.

The hands of the little French clock on the mantel were close upon seven, when a knock came at the door and Helen entered. She started back with a faint gasp of admiration, as Miss Stuart turned from the dressing-table and swept across the room to meet her.

"O Lillian," she cried, "how beautiful you look; but, my dear, you will take away my guests' breath. You know we are thoroughly informal at Hetherford."

Miss Stuart raised her hands to clasp a string of pearls about her throat, with slow deliberation.

"I am very sorry," she said distantly, "that my gown does not meet with your approval. I can easily change it."

"Why Lillian, I find your gown charming, and would not have you change it for the world; I exclaimed simply because I did not expect to see you _en grande toilette_."

"It did not occur to me that I was inappropriately dressed, but of course I am not conversant with your customs here."

The covert sneer was not lost upon Helen, and she flushed painfully at the sharp words. With her usual self-depreciation she felt reproached for what she considered her lack of tact and courtesy.

"I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am, Lillian," she murmured, with deep contrition, "for my inadvertent speech. I never knew you to look lovelier. Won't you please believe me when I tell you that?"

The navete of the compliment touched Miss Stuart, and she smiled gayly into Helen's troubled eyes.

"I admit that I did not understand you at first. I thought that I was guilty of a social error. However, it is all right now."

Helen put her hand on her shoulder, and turned her gently around.

"I want to really see your gown. It is exquisite. What perfect taste you have, Lillian."

Miss Stuart's gown was of the palest shade of green velvet, made so simply as to be almost severe in its lines. The low-cut bodice was ornamented with some fine cut jet, and a little dagger of the same was thrust through the soft coil of auburn hair which crowned her small and shapely head. Her neck and arms shone dazzlingly fair, and the contour of the firm white throat would have delighted the eyes of an artist. The long straight lines of her gown accentuated her height, which was somewhat above the average, and she carried herself with regal grace.

Helen gazed at her a moment in silent admiration. She absolutely wors.h.i.+ped beauty, and its power over her was very great. Had anyone hinted to her that it was chiefly this in Miss Stuart which so charmed her, she would have indignantly refuted the accusation, and yet in a great measure it was true. Many and many a time she had cause to puzzle over her friend--aye, almost to distrust and fear her; but the power of the girl's great beauty blinded her and left her helpless to condemn one who possessed such infinite attraction.

The silence lasted but a moment, yet Miss Stuart had read Helen's verdict in her transparent face, and her pulses quickened with triumphant hope.

"Well, well," she cried laughingly, at length, "are you spellbound, and have you forgotten your guests?"

Helen cast a hurried glance at the clock.

"Why, it is seven. I must run down at once. Follow me as soon as you can, dear."

Down in the drawing-room, Jean was wandering restlessly about, too excited to keep still for one moment. She wore the simplest of her gowns, but one which Farr had once told her he liked. Jean was almost without vanity, but to-night, as she pa.s.sed the long mirror over the mantel, she could not refrain from glancing therein. She was counting the slow-footed moments, and at every turn her eyes consulted the old Dutch clock in the corner. At last a carriage drove up the graveled road, there were steps upon the veranda, and the front door opened and closed again. She longed to run out into the hall, but an overwhelming shyness deterred her; and even as she halted, irresolute, the portieres were pushed apart, and, as in a dream, she saw Farr coming toward her. Her heart beat so she could not trust her voice to speak him greeting.

He caught both her hands in his, and held them closely.

"Jean, do you know how glad I am to see you again?" he whispered.

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. The depth of her emotion paled her cheek, and her young face wore a look of awe. Farr's heart bounded with joy, and he would have spoken, but suddenly she flushed crimson and, wrenching her hands from his, started forward to meet Dudley, who stood in the doorway, uncertain whether to advance or beat a retreat.

Jean covered her embarra.s.sment as best she could; although Dudley tried valiantly to put her at her ease, there was a merry twinkle in his blue eyes which she found very disconcerting. At that moment Helen and Nathalie made their entrance, and Jean moved a little apart from the others, struggling to regain her self-possession.

Farr had turned to appeal to her for confirmation of some statement when a sudden lull fell upon the buzz of conversation. Miss Stuart stood in the doorway, her brilliant figure strikingly set against the dark background of the dimly lighted hall-way. She surveyed them for a brief instant with apparent nonchalance, but that brief glance told her that it was with Jean that Farr was talking. With slow grace she crossed the room and gained Helen's side.

Farr's eyes followed Jean's, and as they reached Miss Stuart his expression underwent a sudden change. She was looking directly at him, and smiled faintly at the dismay in his face.

"Well, Mr. Farr, is it so great a surprise to you to see such an old friend in Hetherford?"

Farr recovered himself, instantly, and met her challenging glance with an impenetrable smile.

"It is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure, Miss Stuart," he said with grave courtesy, and Miss Stuart was conscious of feeling curiously baffled.

To Jean, watching them with dilating eyes, that apparently meaningless incident seemed fraught with significance. All the haunting doubts and fears, that not twelve hours ago she had scorned as morbid fancies, returned upon her with redoubled force. Love, which makes us strangely blind, makes us also strangely alert; and Jean's eyes had seen the change in Farr's face, and as he spoke those few conventional words, her quick ears had detected an unnatural ring in his voice. Miss Stuart had called herself an old friend, and yet Farr had never spoken of her. Jean searched her memory to see if it were possible that she had never mentioned Miss Stuart's name to him, and, as she thus pondered, a chance sentence of Nathalie's reached her:

"You go through the shrubbery----"

She heard no more. In an instant the scene was clear before her--the long stretch of lawn beyond the shrubbery, bright in the silver moonlight, the sound of voices from the parsonage, breaking softly upon the evening stillness, through which Farr and she walked slowly side by side. Then she had spoken of Miss Stuart, and he had certainly disclaimed any acquaintance with her. Her heart grew cold as her first doubt of her lover found lodgment there. As if in consummation of her thoughts, she looked up to see Farr offer Miss Stuart his arm. With a sense of foreboding she followed them slowly into the dining room, smiling a little drearily as she remembered with what eagerness she had antic.i.p.ated this dinner.

Farr's place at table was between Miss Stuart and Jean, and as they took their seats, he spoke to the latter in a carefully lowered tone:

"You can't imagine how delightful it is to be here again. I was absolutely homesick for the manor while I was away."

"Indeed? How unhappy you must have been."

"I was," he replied gravely, observing for the first time the girl's air of disdain, and wondering at the cause thereof, "and I shall have a new cause for sorrow if you look at me as you are now doing."

Jean's levity was somewhat forced as she replied:

"I am very sorry you are not pleased. I do not find it easy to change my expression."

"No?" He bent a very direct and earnest gaze upon her. "Why, Miss Jean," he said softly, "I thought we were friends when I went away; and only to-night you seemed glad at my return."

The last spark of resentment died out of Jean's heart. Her distrust of him seemed suddenly both groundless and foolish. Ashamed and contrite, she was about to speak, when Miss Stuart's suave voice broke in upon them: