Jolly Sally Pendleton Part 41

"A theory of--of--how your brother's condition came about!" she gasped, rather than spoke the words. "Then you--you--do not--believe--Andrew's--statement?"

"No!" replied Margaret Gardiner, in that same high, clear, solemn voice that seemed to vibrate through every pore of Sally's body. "I think Andrew fully believes what he states to be the truth; but he has not deceived. He has been most cleverly fooled by some one else."

"What--what--makes you--think that?" cried Sally, sharply. "Those are strong words and a strange accusation to make, Miss Margaret."

"I am quite well aware of that," was the slow reply.

And as Jay's sister uttered the words, Sally could feel the strong gaze which accompanied them burn like fire to the very depths of her beating heart.

What did Margaret Gardiner suspect? Surely, she would never think of suspecting that she--his bride--had any hand in Jay's illness? There would be no apparent reason.

"Shall I tell you whom I suspect knows more of this than----"

"Doctor Baker, miss," announced one of the servants; and the coming of the famous old doctor put a stop to all further conversation for the present, much to Sally's intense relief.

CHAPTER L.

Young Mrs. Gardiner looked fearfully and eagerly into the face of the stern-countenanced old doctor who had just entered and had stepped up hurriedly to his patient's bedside.

He had heard from the messenger who had come for him just what had occurred to Jay Gardiner, and he was greatly puzzled.

"The toothache drops you speak of were compounded by me," he declared, "and they certainly do not act as you describe. Ten drops would produce balmy sleep. An overdose acts as an emetic, and would not remain a moment's time on the stomach. That is their chief virtue--in rendering an overdose harmless. I am confident the mischief can not lie with the toothache drops."

Doctor Baker had entered and gone directly to the bedside of his patient, as we have said, simply nodding to Miss Margaret, and not waiting for an introduction to the bride. The moment his eyes fell upon his patient, he gave a start of surprise.

"Ah," he muttered, "my case of instruments! Hand them to me quickly.

This is a case of life or death! Not an instant's time is to be lost. I dare not wait for the coming of the consulting physicians who have been sent for."

"What are you about to do?" cried Sally, springing forward, her eyes gleaming.

"I am about to perform a critical operation to save my patient's life, if it be possible. Every instant of time is valuable."

"I say it shall not be done!" cried young Mrs. Gardiner. "I, his wife, command that you do not proceed until the rest of the doctors sent for arrive and sanction such an action!"

The old doctor flushed hotly. Never, in all the long years of his practice, had his medical judgment ever been brought into question before, and at first, anger and resentment rose in quick rebellion in his heart; the next instant he had reasoned with himself that this young wife should be pardoned for her words, which had been uttered in the greatest stress of excitement.

"My dear Mrs. Gardiner--for such I presume you to be--your interference at this critical moment, attempting to thwart my judgment, would--ay, I say _would_--prove fatal to your husband. This is a moment when a physician must act upon his own responsibility, knowing that a human life depends upon his swiftness and his skill, I beg of you to leave all to me."

"I say it shall not be!" cried Sally, flinging herself across her husband's prostrate body. "Touch him at your peril, Doctor Baker!"

For an instant all in the apartment were almost dumbfounded. Miss Margaret was the first to recover herself.

"Sally," she said, approaching her sister-in-law slowly, her blue eyes looking stealthily down into the glittering, frenzied green ones, "come with me. You want to save Jay's life, don't you? Put down that knife, and come with me. You are wasting precious moments that may mean life or death to the one we both love. Let me plead with you, on my knees, if need be, to come with me, dear."

Sally Gardiner stood at bay like a lioness. Quick as a flash, she had thought out the situation.

If Jay Gardiner died, she would be free to fly with Victor Lament. If she refused to allow the doctor to touch him, he would die, and never discover the loss of the diamonds, or that she had borrowed money from his friends on leaving Newport.

If he died, she would be a wealthy woman for life, and she would never be obliged to look again into the face of the handsome husband whom she hated--the husband who hated her, and who did not take the pains to conceal it in his every act each day since he had married her.

Ah! if he only died here and now it would save her from all the ills that menaced her and were closing in around her. This was her opportunity. Fate--fortune had put the means of saving herself in her hands.

Even the good doctor was sorely perplexed. He saw that young Mrs.

Gardiner was a desperate woman, and that she meant what she said.

"Will nothing under Heaven cause you to relent?" cried Margaret, wringing her hands, her splendid courage breaking down completely under the great strain of her agony. "My poor mother lies in the next room in a death-like swoon, caused by the knowledge of her idolized son's fatal illness. If he should die, she would never see another morning's sun after she learned of it. One grave would cover both."

CHAPTER LI.

We must now return to Bernardine, dear reader.

"Oh, I was mad--mad to remain a single instant beneath this roof when I discovered whose home it was!" she moaned, sinking down on the nearest ha.s.sock and rocking herself to and fro in an agony of despair. "I--I could have lived my life better if I had not looked upon his face again, or seen the bride who had won his love from me. I will go, I will leave this grand house at once. Let them feast and make merry. None of them knows that a human heart so near them is breaking slowly under its load of woe."

She tried to rise and cross the floor, but her limbs refused to act. A terrible numbness had come over them, every muscle of her body seemed to pain her.

"Am I going to be ill?" she cried out to herself in the wildest alarm.

"No, no--that _must not_ be; they would be sure to call upon _him_ to--to aid me, and that would kill me--yes, kill me!"

Her body seemed to burn like fire, while her head, her feet, and her hands were ice cold. Her lips were parched with a terrible thirst.

"I must go away from here," she muttered. "If I am going to die, let it be out in the grounds, with my face pressed close to the cold earth, that is not more cold to me than the false heart of the man to whom I have given my love beyond recall."

Like one whose sight had suddenly grown dim, Bernardine groped her way from the magnificent _boudoir_ out into the corridor, her one thought being to reach her own apartment, secure her bonnet and cloak, and get out of the house. She had scarcely reached the first turn in the corridor, ere she came face to face with a woman robed in costly satin, and all ablaze with diamonds, who was standing quite still and looking about her in puzzled wonder.

"I--I beg your pardon, miss," said the stranger, addressing Bernardine.

"I am a bit turned around in this labyrinth of corridors."

What was there in that voice that caused Bernardine to forget her own sorrows for an instant, and with a gasp peer into the face looking up into her own?

The effect of Bernardine's presence, as the girl turned her head and the light of the hanging-lamp fell full upon it, was quite as electrifying to the strange lady.

"Bernardine Moore!" she gasped in a high, shrill voice that was almost hysterical. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is this some strange coincidence, some chance resemblance, or are you Bernardine Moore, whom I have searched the whole earth over to find?"

At the first word that fell from her excited lips, Bernardine recognized Miss Rogers.

"Yes," she answered, mechanically, "I am Bernardine Moore, and you are Miss Rogers. But--but how came you here, and in such fine dress and magnificent jewels? You, whom I knew to be as poor as ourselves, when you shared the humble tenement home with my father and me!"

Miss Rogers laughed very softly.

"I can well understand your bewilderment over such a Cinderella-like mystery. The solution of it is very plain, however. But before I answer your question, my dear Bernardine, I must ask what _you_ are doing beneath this roof?"