A Romance of Toronto Part 34

It is a cold, frosty night, the moon and clouds seeming to have a game of hide-and-go-seek across the sky, when Mrs. Dale is already enveloped in her warm dark blue blanket suit and Tam-o-Shanter, with Mr. Blair, in heavy brown overcoat and Christy hat, not having been in our land long enough for his blood to have lost its warmth and to feel the need of furs.

Before they start Mr. Cobbe rings the bell, and is admitted to the library, Mr. Blair turning out the gas in the drawing-room, and Thomas receiving orders that "no one is at home."

"Suppose she should not come this evening," said Mrs. Dale, as she and her companion returned from a brisk walk to a post box, and neared Holmnest. "You know, she misses his trail; at all events, does not watch for him here every evening."

"Hush! she is in the shade of that pile of lumber and bricks in front of the house that is being built next to Holmnest," he whispered, hurriedly.

"So she is; that is lucky; and now to follow our plan. We shall not see her for some minutes, but endeavor to interest her by our talk about that scallawag and poor Elaine."

"I don't think, on second thought, that that would be our best plan; we had better go up to her and demand to know her relations to him," he said, quickly, in an undertone.

"No, no; I know best."

As they neared, the tall, slight figure, clad in a brown ulster and small round hat, disappeared to the other side of the lumber, almost out of sight, but well within ear-shot.

"Stand here a minute, Mr. Blair; before we go in I want to tell you what I fear will be the result of Mr. Cobbe's determination to marry Mrs.

Gower against her will," she said, in clear tones. On this they could hear that the woman took a step nearer in the deep snow on the boulevard, that had drifted in the recent storm to the lumber. "You must see yourself," she continued, "that the compulsory oath he compelled her to take is killing her; and none know better than you do yourself that her love is not his; almost all friendly feeling even she had for him prior to that oath, has fled; yet still he will keep her to it; and she will marry him some day, in a fit of desperation to get rid of him, and to show you that you are free to marry some more fortunate woman. It's my belief he is a mere fortune-hunter, and cares no more for her than we Americans care for you, in annexation; we only care for the loaves and fishes (especially the latter). I simply hate to go in to the house; it makes me double my fists to see him making love to her." The last words she said to rouse the woman's wrath; she knows her s.e.x well, for, ploughing through the snow a few steps, she faces them.

Mrs. Dale gives a little scream. Mr. Blair, turning quickly, says, in decided tones,

"Oh! you are here again; well, I am not sorry, for I had determined to put a detective on your track to-morrow, and am glad to have an opportunity of warning you first."

"Any woman would do no more nor I do, just standing here when I please,"

she said, doggedly, her teeth chattering, partly from nervousness, partly from cold.

"Poor thing; you are half frozen," said Mrs. Dale, to show she was not unfriendly.

"We shall not detain you long, young woman," said Mr. Blair, quickly, as he thinks of the woman he loves worried by the man he hates; "all we want to know is your name and address, and what hold you have on Mr.

Cobbe; for a woman of your respectable appearance would not follow a man about unless she had some hold on him--some real right to watch his movements. You have overheard this lady and myself talking over this matter, and I can a.s.sure you it would add materially to our peace of mind could we compel Mr. Cobbe to do right by you; come now, no delay, no beating about the bush; tell the truth and shame the devil; out with it."

"Gentlemen lie quicker than a working girl, like myself," she said, suspiciously. "I have heard what this lady said, but how do I know that it's all square? Phil. said if you caught me hanging around after him, you'd get me took up, and here is a peeler coming; I see what you're after."

And she tries to run, but Mr. Blair holds her firmly until the policeman pa.s.ses.

"I tell you I mean you no harm; but you _must_ tell your connection with Mr. Cobbe, _and at once_."

"Give me till to-morrow night, sir, for the love of heaven, and I will try again if Phil. will give your lady up, that I have wished to kill for coming between us; aye, and would have fired Holmnest on her some night, but for this lady's words that she don't want my man. My name is Beatrice Hill, and I live at 910, Seaton Street; I will tell you the rest to-morrow night, if he will not give her up," she said, bursting into tears.

Mr. Blair made a note of the address, Mrs. Dale saying kindly, "You had better come around to the kitchen and get thawed; you are----" when, turning suddenly to Mr. Blair, who has his back to a couple coming down the street, she says, quickly,

"Here are the Smyths; stand where you are; and you too, Beatrice Hill."

"h.e.l.lo!" cried Smyth, coming upon them suddenly (that is Toronto's pa.s.s-word). "How do you do, Mrs. Dale; how do, Blair?"

"How happy would I be with either," said his lively wife, aside to Mr.

Blair; "oh, I beg pardon," she continued, seeing the other is not one of them. "How is Mrs. Gower?"

"She is not very well this evening, and is, I hope resting. How is it your little son is out when he ought to be under the bedclothes? That's one thing I am glad my boy is at boarding-school for."

"Oh, this young man has been to a party at the Halls, and we had to trot up for him. Give Elaine my love, and tell her one look at handsome Doctor Mills, on our street, will cure her; he cured my baby. So, come around to-morrow, all of you. Oh, Will, we had better go in to Holmnest for a minute. I want to tell Elaine you have heard from Charlie."

"Oh, no; go in to-morrow. This little chap is nearly asleep."

"All right. Mrs. Dale, please tell Mrs. Gower that Charlie Cole is at New York, and she may expect to see them any day. Good night."

"Good night."

"Come, Mrs. Dale, we had better go in at once; you must be very cold."

"Yes, I am. You had better come round and get thawed out in the kitchen, Beatrice Hill, I will bring you."

"No, thanks; I am used to it. I'll just walk up and down, to keep from freezing."

"Perhaps you had better not try to see him to-night, it is so cold."

"Not try to see him!" she exclaimed. "I see him too seldom, and love him too much for that," she said, pathetically, "and I must see if he will promise me to come no more where neither of us is wanted."

"Remember! you are to be here to-morrow night to tell us your hold on him, unless he gives Mrs. Gower up," he said, firmly.

"I will, sir; thank you both," she said tearfully, as, turning towards the gate of Holmnest, they each slip a five dollar bill into her hand.

"Poor thing, I think she is hard up," said Mrs. Dale, as they ring the bell; "see her examining the bills by the lamp."

"Yes, so she is, to see if they are 'Central'; had she not been sold by my _bete noir_, I should say she was a canny Scotchwoman."

On Thomas opening the door, they see Mr. Cobbe draw close the _portiere_ hangings of the library, as if to say, no admittance.

"Have you a match, Thomas?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then light one jet in the drawing-room, please."

Here they sit quietly talking for half an hour, during which, at times, Mr. Cobbe talked loud and excitedly, while sometimes Mrs. Gower's voice came to them in pleading, or quieting tones.

At last he goes into the dining-room, asks Thomas for some sherry, drinks two gla.s.ses; is again in the hall, his over-shoes, coat, and fur cap on, in his excitement picking up Mr. Blair's gloves, which, when in the street, finding his mistake, he dashes into the road.

Angry and troubled by Mrs. Gower's words, he is kinder to Beatrice Hill than he has been for some time.

"You here again, Betty. _You_ are infatuated with me, anyway."

"Indeed, I am, sweetheart, but my love doesn't content you. You bet, I'd sooner have a black look from you than a kiss from any man living. The saints forgive me, when I think of the holy Father and cardinals, and how I worship you, Phil."

"Yes, you are wild about me, I know, Betty, but we men are different to you, you know; we have so many adorers, we can't go mooning forever around one woman."

"And you are not angry with me to-night, Phil, for coming again to get a sight of your dear face?"

"No, I am not angry with you to-night; but you must not come again; they don't like it," he said, importantly.