At the Time Appointed Part 18

On the day of the reception both Mr. Underwood and Darrell lunched and dined down town, returning together to The Pines in the interim between the afternoon and evening entertainments. As Darrell sprang from the carriage and ran up the stairs the servants were already turning on the lights temporarily suspended within the veranda and throughout the grounds, so that the place seemed transformed into a bit of fairyland.

He heard chatter and laughter, and caught glimpses of young ladies--special guests from out of town--flitting from room to room, but Kate was nowhere to be seen.

Going to his room, he quickly donned an evening suit, not omitting a dainty boutonniere awaiting him on his dressing-case, and betook himself to the libraries across the hall, where, by previous arrangement, Kate was to call for him when it was time to go downstairs.

From below came the ceaseless hum of conversation, the constant ripple of laughter, mingled with bits of song, and the occasional strains of a waltz. Reading was out of the question. Sinking into the depths of a large arm-chair, Darrell was soon lost in dreamy reverie, from which he was roused by a slight sound.

Looking up, he saw framed in the arched doorway between the two rooms a vision, like and yet so unlike the maiden for whom he waited and who had occupied his thoughts but a moment before that he gazed in silent astonishment, uncertain whether it were a reality or part of his dreams.

For a moment the silence was unbroken; then,--

"How do you like my gown?" said the Vision, demurely.

Darrell sprang to his feet and approached slowly, a new consciousness dawning in his soul, a new light in his eyes. Of the style or texture of her gown, a filmy, gleaming ma.s.s of white, he knew absolutely nothing; he only knew that its clinging softness revealed in new beauty the rounded outlines of her form; that its snowy sheen set off the exquisite moulding of her neck and arms; that its long, shimmering folds accentuated the height and grace of her slender figure; but a knowledge had come to him in that moment like a revelation, stunning, bewildering him, thrilling his whole being, irradiating every lineament of his face.

"I know very little about ladies' dress," he said apologetically, "and I fear I may express myself rather bunglingly, but to me the chief beauty of your gown consists in the fact that it reveals and enhances the beauty of the wearer; in that sense, I consider it very beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate replied, with a low, sweeping courtesy to conceal the blushes which she felt mantling her cheeks, not so much at his words as at what she read in his eyes; "that is the most delicate compliment I ever heard. I know I shall not receive another so delicious this whole evening, and to think of prefacing it with an apology!"

"I am glad to hear that voice," said Darrell, possessing himself of one little gloved hand and surveying his companion critically, from the charmingly coiffed head to the dainty white slipper peeping from beneath her skirt; "the voice and the eyes seem about all that is left of the little girl I had known and loved."

She regarded him silently, with a gracious little smile, but with deepening color and quickening pulse.

He continued: "She has seemed different of late, somehow; she has eluded me so often I have felt as though she were in some way slipping away from me, and now I fear I have lost her altogether. How is it?"

Darrell gently raised the sweet face so that he looked into the clear depths of the brown eyes.

"Tell me, Kathie dear, has she drifted away from me?"

For an instant the eyes were hidden under the curling lashes; then they lifted as she replied, with an enigmatical smile,--

"Not so far but that you may follow, if you choose."

Darrell bowed his head and his lips touched the golden-brown hair.

"Sweetheart," he said, in low tones, scarcely above a whisper, "I follow; if I overtake her, what then? Will I find her the same as in the past?"

Her heart was beating wildly with a new, strange joy; she longed to get away by herself and taste its sweetness to the full.

"The same, and yet not the same," she answered, slowly; then, before he could say more, she added, lightly, as a wave of laughter was borne upward from the parlors.

"But I came to see if you were ready to go downstairs; ought we not to join the others?"

"As you please," he replied, stooping to pick up the programme she had dropped; "are the guests arriving yet?"

"No; it is still early, but I want to introduce you to my friends. Oh, yes, my programme; thanks! That reminds me, I am going to ask you to put your name down for two or three waltzes; you know," she added, smiling, "I promised you two weeks ago some waltzes for this evening, so take your choice."

For an instant Darrell hesitated, and the old troubled look returned to his face.

"You are very kind," he said, slowly, "and I appreciate the honor; but it has just occurred to me that really I am not at all certain regarding my proficiency in that line."

Kate understood his dilemma. They had reached the hall; some one was at the piano below and the strains of a dreamy waltz floated through the rooms.

"I haven't a doubt of your proficiency myself," she replied, with a confident smile, "but if you would like a test, here is a good opportunity," and she glanced up and down the vacant but brightly lighted corridor. Darrell needed no second hint, and almost before she was aware they were gliding over the floor.

To Kate, intoxicated with her new-found joy, it seemed as though she were borne along on the waves of the music without effort or volition of her own. She dared not trust herself to speak. Once or twice she raised her eyes to meet the dark ones whose gaze she felt upon her face, but the love-light shining in their depths overpowered her glance and she turned her eyes away. She knew that he had seen and recognized the woman, and that as such--and not as a child--he loved her, and for the present this knowledge was happiness enough.

And Darrell was silent, still bewildered by the twofold revelation which had so suddenly come to him; the revelation of the lovely womanhood at his side, to which he had, until now, been blind, and of the love within his own heart, of which, till now, he had been unconscious.

Before they had completed two turns up and down the corridor the music ceased as suddenly as it had begun.

"Oh, that was heavenly! It seemed like a dream!" Kate exclaimed, with a sigh.

"It seemed a very blessed bit of reality to me," Darrell laughed in return, drawing her arm within his own as they proceeded towards the stairs.

"You are a superb dancer; now you certainly can have no scruples about claiming some waltzes," Kate replied, withdrawing her arm and again placing her programme in his hands.

As they paused at the head of the stairs while Darrell complied with her request, a chorus of voices was heard in the hall below.

"Kate, are you never coming?" some one called, and a sprightly brunette appeared for an instant on the first landing, but vanished quickly at sight of Darrell.

"Girls!" they heard her exclaim to the merry group below; "would you believe it? She is taking a base advantage of us; she has discovered what we did not suppose existed in this house--a young man--and is getting her programme filled in advance!"

Cries of "Oh, Kate, that's not fair!" followed. Kate leaned laughingly over the bal.u.s.trade.

"He's an angel of a dancer, girls," she called, "but I'll promise not to monopolize him!"

Darrell returned the programme, saying, as they pa.s.sed down the stairs together,--

"I didn't want to appear selfish, so I only selected three, but give me more if you can, later."

Kate smiled. "I think," she replied, "you will speedily find yourself in such demand that I will consider myself fortunate to have secured those three; but," she added shyly, as her eyes met his, "my first waltz was with you, and that was just as I intended it should be!"

Through the hours which followed so swiftly Darrell was in a sort of waking dream, a state of superlative happiness, unmarred as yet by phantoms from the shrouded past or misgivings as to the dim, uncertain future; past and future were for the time alike forgotten. One image dominated his mind,--the form and face of the fair young hostess moving among her guests as a queen amid her court, carrying her daintily poised head as though conscious of the twofold royal crown of womanhood and woman's love. One thought surged continuously through and through his brain,--that she was his, his by the sovereign right of love. Whatever courtesy he showed to others was for her sake, because they were her guests, her friends, and when unengaged he stationed himself in some quiet corner or dimly lighted alcove where, un.o.bserved, he could watch her movements with their rhythmic grace or catch the music of her voice, the sight or sound thrilling him with joy so exquisite as to be akin to pain. The oft-repeated compliments of the crowd about him seemed to him empty, trite, meaningless; what could they know of her real beauty compared with himself who saw her through Love's eyes!

As he stood thus alone in a deep bay-window, shaded by giant palms, some one paused beside him.

"Our little debutante has surpa.s.sed herself to-night; she is fairest of the fair!"

Darrell turned to see at his side Walcott, faultlessly attired, elegant, nonchalant; a half-smile playing about his lips as through half-closed eyes he watched the dancers. Instantly all the antagonism in Darrell's nature rose against the man; strive as he might, he was powerless to subdue it. There was no trace of it in his voice, however, as he answered, quietly,--

"Miss Underwood certainly looks very beautiful to-night."

"She has matured marvellously of late," continued the other, in low, pleasant tones; "her development within the past few weeks has been remarkable. But that is to be expected in women of her style, and this is but the beginning. Mark my words, Mr. Darrell," Walcott faced his auditor with a smile, "Miss Underwood's beauty to-night is but the pale shining of a taper beside one of those lights yonder, compared with what it will be a few years hence; are you aware of that?"

"It had not occurred to me," Darrell replied, with studied calmness, for the conversation was becoming distasteful to him.

"Look at her now!" said Walcott, bowing and smiling as Kate floated past them, but regarding her with a scrutiny that aroused Darrell's quick resentment; "very fair, very lovely, I admit, but a trifle too slender; a little too colorless, too neutral, as it were! A few years will change all that. You will see her a woman of magnificent proportions and with the cold, neutral tints replaced by warmth and color. I have made a study of women, and I know that cla.s.s well. Five or ten years from now she will be simply superb, and at the age when ordinary women lose their power to charm she will only be in the zenith of her beauty."

The look and tone accompanying the words filled Darrell with indignation and disgust.