For Woman's Love Part 37

Soon the dinner bell rang and the family party went into the dining room.

On Monday morning active preparations were commenced for their journey to New York. Not one more word was spoken about the marriage of June and January, nor could either Clarence or Corona judge by the manner of the ill sorted pair whether the subject had been mentioned between them.

On Wednesday of that week Mr. Rockharrt, accompanied by Mrs. Stillwater and Mrs. Rothsay, left Rockhold for New York, leaving Mr. Clarence in charge of the works at North End.

They went straight through without, as before, stopping overnight at Baltimore. Consequently they reached New York on Thursday noon.

Mr. Rockharrt telegraphed to the Cozzens Hotel at West Point to secure a suite of rooms, and then he took his own party to the Blank House.

When they were comfortably installed in their apartments and had had dinner, he said to his companions:

"I have business which may detain me in the city for several days. We need not, however, put in an appearance at the Military Academy before Monday morning. Meanwhile you two may amuse yourselves as you please, but must not look to me to escort you anywhere. Here are fine stores, art galleries, parks, matinees and what not, where women may be trusted alone;" and having laid down the law, his majesty marched off to bed, leaving the two young widows to themselves, in the private parlor of their suite.

They also retired to the double-bedded chamber, which, to Cora's annoyance, had been engaged for their joint occupancy. She detested to be brought into such close intimacy with Rose Stillwater, and longed for the hour of her brother's release from the academy, and his appointment to some post of duty, however distant, where she might join him, and so escape the humiliation of her present position. However, she tried to bear the mortification as best she might, thankful that she and her unwelcome chum, while occupying the same chamber, were not obliged to sleep in the same bed.

Truly, Rose Stillwater felt how unpleasant her companions.h.i.+p was to her former pupil, but she showed no consciousness of this. She comported herself with great discretion--not forcing conversation on her unwilling room mate, lest she should give offense; and it was the policy of this woman to "avoid offenses," nor yet did she keep total silence, lest she should seem to be sulky; for it was also her policy always to seem amiable and happy. So, though Cora never voluntarily addressed one word to her, yet Rose occasionally spoke sweetly some commonplace about the weather, their room, the bill of fare at dinner, and so on; to all of which observations she received brief replies.

Both were relieved when they were in their separate beds and the gas was turned off--Rose that she need act a difficult part no more that night, but could lie down, and, under the cover of the darkness, gather her features in a cloud of wrath, and silently curse Corona Rothsay; Cora, that she was freed from the sight of the deceitful face and the sound of the lying tongue.

Fatigued by their long journey, both soon fell asleep, and slept well, until the horrible sound of the gong awakened them--the gong in those days used to summon guests to the public breakfast table.

Cora sprang out of bed with one fear--that her grandfather was up and waiting for his breakfast, though that gong had really nothing to do with any of their meals, which were always to be served in their private parlor.

Cora and her room mate quickly dressed and went to the parlor, where they were relieved to find no Mr. Rockharrt and no table set.

Presently, however, the Iron King strode into the room, a morning paper in his hand.

"Breakfast not ready yet?" he sharply demanded, looking at Corona.

Then she suddenly remembered that whenever they had traveled before this time, her grandmother had ordered the meals, as she had done everything else that she could do to save her tyrant trouble.

"I--suppose so, sir. Shall I ring for it?" she inquired.

"Let me! Let me! Oh, please let me wait on you!" exclaimed Rose, as she sprang up, ran across the room, and rang a peal on the bell.

The waiter came.

"Will you also order the breakfast, Mrs. Stillwater, if such is your pleasure?" inquired Cora, who could not help this little bit of ill humor.

"Certainly I will, my dear, if you like!" said the imperturbable Rose, who was resolved never to understand sarcasm, and never to take offense--"Waiter, bring me a bill of fare."

The waiter went out to do his errand.

Old Aaron Rockharrt glared sternly at his granddaughter; but his fire did not strike his intended victim, for Cora had her back turned and was looking out of the window.

The waiter came in with the breakfast bill of fare.

"Will you listen, Mr. Rockharrt, and you, dear Cora, and tell me what to mark, as I read out the items," said Rose, sweetly, as she took the card from the hands of the man.

"Thank you, I want nothing especially," answered Cora.

"Read on, my dear. I will tell you what to mark, and you must be sure also to mark any dish that you yourself may fancy," said Mr. Rockharrt, speaking very kindly to Rose, but glaring ferociously toward Cora.

Rose read slowly, pausing at each item. Mr. Rockharrt named his favorite dishes, Rose marked them, and the order was given to the waiter, who took it away.

Breakfast was soon served, and a most disagreeable meal it must have been but for Rose Stillwater's invincible good humor. She chatted gayly through the whole meal, perfectly resolved to ignore the cloud that was between the grandfather and the granddaughter.

As soon as they arose from the table old Aaron Rockharrt ordered a carriage to take him down to Wall Street, on some business connected with his last great speculation, which was all that his granddaughter knew.

Before leaving the hotel, he launched this bitter insult at Cora, through their guest:

"My dear," he said to Mrs. Stillwater, as he drew on his gloves, "I must leave my granddaughter under your charge. I beg that you will look after her. She really seeds the supervision of a governess quite as much now as she did years ago when you had the training of her."

Corona's wrath flamed up. A scathing sarcasm was on her lips. She turned.

But no. She could not resent the insult of so aged a man; even if he had not been her grandfather.

Rose Stillwater said never a word. It was not--it would not have been prudent to speak. To treat the matter as a jest would have offended the Iron King; to have taken it seriously would most justly and unpardonably have offended Corona Rothsay. Truly, Rose found that "Jordan am a hard road to trabbel!" And here at least was an apt application of the old proverb:

"Speech is silver, silence is golden." So Rose said never a word, but looked from one to the other, smiling divinely on each in turn.

Old Aaron Rockharrt having discharged his shot, went down stairs, entered his carriage and drove to Wall Street.

Corona went to her room, or to the room she jointly occupied with Mrs.

Stillwater, wis.h.i.+ng from the depths of her heart that she could get entirely away from the sight and hearing of the woman who grew more repugnant to her feelings every day. At one time Cora thought that she would call a carriage, drive to the Hudson River railway station, and take the train for West Point, there to remain during the exercises of the academy. She was very strongly tempted to do this; but she resisted the impulse. She would not bring matters to a crisis by making a scene.

So the idea of escaping to West Point was abandoned. Next she thought of taking a carriage and driving out to Harlem alone; but then she remembered that the woman Stillwater was, after all, her guest, so long as she herself was mistress, if only in name, of her grandfather's house; she could not leave her alone for the whole day; and so the idea of evading the creature's company by driving out alone was also given up.

Truly, Cora was bound to the rack with cords of conventionality as fine as cobwebs, yet as strong as ropes.

She did nothing but sit still in her chamber and brood; dreading the entrance of her abhorrent room-mate every moment.

But Rose Stillwater--who read Cora Rothsay's thoughts as easily as she could read a familiar book--acted with her usual discretion. As long as Cora chose to remain in their joint chamber, Rose forbore to exercise her own right of entering it.

Not until the afternoon did Corona come out into the parlor. Then she found Rose seated at the window, watching the busy scene on the Broadway pavement below, the hurried promenaders jostling as they pa.s.sed each other on going up and coming down; the street peddlers, the walking advertis.e.m.e.nts, and all other sights never noticed by a citizen of the town, but looked at with curiosity by a stranger from the country.

Rose turned as Corona entered, and ignoring all reserve, said sweetly:

"I hope you have been resting, dear, and that you feel refreshed. Shall I ring and order luncheon? I wish to do all I can, dear, to prove my appreciation of all the kindness shown me; yet not to be officious."

Now, how could Cora repulse the advances of so very good humored a woman? She believed her to be false and designing. She longed with all her heart and soul to be rid of the woman and her insidious influence.

Yet she could not hear that sweet voice, those meek words, or meet those soft blue eyes, and maintain her manner of freezing politeness.

"If you please," she answered, gently, and then said to herself: "Heavens! what a hypocrite this unwillingness to hurt the woman's feelings does make me!"

Rose rang the bell and ordered the luncheon.

They sat down in apparent amity to partake of it.

The afternoon waned and evening came, but brought no Iron King back to the hotel.