Jolly Sally Pendleton Part 29

Scores of girlish eyes brightened as they entered the arched door-way, and scores of hearts beat expectantly under pretty lace bodices. But their disappointment was great when this handsome Apollo glanced them all over critically, but did not ask any of them out to dance, and all the best waltzes were being then played.

Victor Lamont seemed quite indifferent to their shy glances.

During this time he was keeping up quite an animated conversation with his host, who was telling him, with pride, that _this_ pretty girl was Miss This, and that pretty girl Miss So-and-So. But Victor Lamont would sooner have known who their fathers were.

At length, as his eyes traveled about the great ball-room with business-like carefulness, his gaze fell upon a slender figure in rose pink and fairly covered with diamonds. They blazed like ropes of fire about the white throat and on the slender arms; they twinkled like immense stars from the sh.e.l.l-like ears and coyly draped bosom, and rose in a great tiara over the highly piled blonde hair.

She was standing under a great palm-tree, its green branches forming just the background that was needed to perfect the dainty picture in pink.

She was surrounded as usual by a group of admirers. Victor Lamont's indifference vanished. He was interested at last.

"Who is the young lady under the palm directly opposite?" he asked, quickly.

"The belle of Newport," was the reply. "Shall I present you?"

"I should be delighted," was the quick response. Instantly rebellion rose in the heart of every girl in the room, and resentment showed in scores of flushed cheeks and angry eyes as the hero of the evening was led over to pretty Sally Gardiner.

No wonder they watched him with dismay. From the moment graceful Mr.

Lamont was presented to her, he made no attempt to disguise how completely he was smitten by her.

"That is a delightful waltz," he said, bending over the little hand as the dance music struck up.

Sally bowed, and placed a dainty little hand lightly on his shoulder, his arm encircled the slender waist, and away they went whirling through the bewildering stretch of ball-room, a cloud of pink and flas.h.i.+ng diamonds, the curly blonde head and the blonde, mustached face dangerously near each other.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

If young Mrs. Gardiner heard the ominous whispers on all sides of her, regarding her open flirtation with handsome Victor Lamont, she did not heed them. She meant to show the haughty husband whom she had learned to hate with such a deadly hatred, that other men would show her attention.

The world owed her pleasure, a good time, and love by right of her youth and beauty, and she meant to have them at whatever cost.

Victor Lamont struck her fancy. He was gay, debonair, and was certainly in love with her; and, in open defiance of the consequences, she rushed madly on, in her quest of pleasure, toward the precipice covered with flowers that was yawning to receive her.

The beginning of the end came in a very strange way. One evening there was a grand hop at the Ocean House. It was one of the most brilliant affairs of the season. The magnificent ball-room was crowded to overflowing with beauty and fas.h.i.+on. Every one who was any one in all gay Newport was present. Jay Gardiner had been suddenly called away to attend to some very important business in Boston, and consequently would not be able to attend. But that made no difference about Sally's going; indeed, it was a relief to her to know that he would not be there.

It occasioned no surprise, even though comments of disapproval waged louder than ever, when the beautiful young Mrs. Gardiner, the married belle of the ball, entered, leaning upon Victor Lamont's arm.

Those who saw her whispered one to another that the reigning beauty of Newport quite surpa.s.sed herself to-night--that even the buds had better look to their laurels. The maids and the matrons, even the gentlemen, looked askance when they saw Victor Lamont and young Mrs. Gardiner dance every dance together, and the murmur of stern disapproval grew louder.

At last, the couple was missed from the ball-room altogether. Some one reported having seen them strolling up and down the beach in the moonlight. There was no mistaking the tall, broad-shouldered, handsome Englishman, and the trim, dainty little figure in fleecy white, with the ermine wrap thrown over the pretty plump shoulders and round neck, on which rare diamonds, that would have paid a king's ransom, gleamed fitfully whenever the sportive breeze tossed back the ermine wrap.

Victor Lamont's fickle fancy for his companion had been a short-lived one. Like all male flirts, he soon tired of his conquests, and longed for new fields and new faces. He was considering this matter, when he received a letter that set him thinking. It was from his boon companion, Egremont, who was doing Long Branch.

There were four pages, written in cipher, which only Lamont could understand. The last one read as follows:

"Report has it that you are head and ears in love with a married beauty, and are carrying on a very open flirtation. Egad! my boy, that will never do. You have no time to waste in sentiment over other men's wives.

You went to Newport with the avowed intention of capturing an heiress--some widow's daughter.

"You know how we stand as regards money. Money we must get somehow, some way--_any way_. We must realize five thousand dollars to save Hal, between now and this day week. It remains for you to think of some way to obtain it. If Hal peached on us, we would go up along with him, so, you see, the money _must_ be raised somehow.

"My fall on the day I landed here, laying me up with a sprained ankle, was an unfortunate affair, for it prevented me from making the harvest we counted on. So everything falls on your shoulders.

"You must have learned by this time who is who, and where they keep their jewels and pocket-books. If I am able to get about, I will run over to see you on Sat.u.r.day next. Two or three of our friends will accompany me.

"Yours in haste,

"EGREMONT."

The day appointed saw three men alight from the early morning train.

They had occupied different cars, and swung off onto the platform from different places. But the old policeman, who had done duty at the station of the famous watering-place for nearly two decades, noted them at once with his keen, experienced eye.

"A trio of crooks," he muttered, looking after them. "I can tell it from their s.h.i.+fting glances and hitching gait, as though they never could break from the habit of the lock-step; I will keep my eye on them."

Although the three men went to different hotels, they had been scarcely an hour in Newport before they all a.s.sembled in the room of the man who had written to Lamont, signing himself Egremont.

"It is deuced strange Victor doesn't come," he said, impatiently. "He must have received both my letter and telegram."

At that moment there was a step outside, the door opened, and Victor Lamont, the subject of their conversation, strode into the apartment.

"It was a mighty risky step, pals, for you to come to Newport, and, above all, to expect me to keep this appointment with you to-day!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "Didn't you know that?"

And with that he pulled the door to after him with a bang.

It was nearly two hours ere Victor Lamont, with his hat pulled down over his eyes, quitted the hostelry and his companions, and then he went by a side entrance, first glancing quickly up and down the street to note if there was any one about who would be apt to recognize him.

The coast being apparently clear, he stepped out into the street, walked rapidly away, and turned the nearest corner.

"If it could be done!" he muttered, under his breath. "The chance is a desperate one, but, as Egremont says, we must raise money _somehow_.

Well, it's a pretty daring scheme; but I am in for it, if the pretty little beauty can be induced to stroll on the beach to-night."

Night had come, and to Victor Lamont's great delight, he received a pretty, cream-tinted, sweet-scented, monogrammed note from Sally Gardiner, saying that she would be pleased to accept his escort that evening, and would meet him in the reception-room an hour later.

Lamont's eyes sparkled with joy as he saw her, for she was resplendent in a dream of white lace, and wore all her magnificent diamonds.

He was obliged to promenade and dance with her for an hour or so, although he knew his companions would be waiting with the utmost impatience on the sh.o.r.e.

When he proposed the stroll, he looked at her keenly, his lips apart, intense eagerness in his voice.

To his great relief, she acquiesced at once.

"Though," she added, laughingly, "I do not suppose it would be as safe to wear all my diamonds on the beach as it would be if we just promenaded the piazza."

"It would be a thousand times more romantic," he whispered, his glance thrilling her through and through, his hand tightening over the little one resting on his arm.

And so, as the moth follows the flickering, dancing flame, foolish Sally Gardiner, without a thought of danger, took the arm of the handsome stranger whom she had known but a few short weeks, and sauntered out upon the beach with him.