Cruel As The Grave Part 19

"And do you love me?" inquired Lyon Berners, taking the siren's hand, and utterly yielding to her allurements; "say, fair one, do you love me?"

"Hush! hush!" breathed Rosa, drawing away her hand and covering her face--"hush! that is a question you must not ask, nor I answer."

"But--as a _brother_, I mean?" whispered Lyon.

"Oh! yes, yes, yes! as a dear brother, I love you dearly," fervently exclaimed Rosa.

"And as a dear sister you shall share my love and care always,"

earnestly answered Mr. Berners.

"And you will not be cold to me any longer?"

"No, dear."

"And you will come and listen to my poor little songs this evening, and let me do my best to amuse you?"

"Yes, dear, I will throw over all other engagements, and delight myself in your heavenly strains to-night," answered Lyon Berners.

"Oh! I am so happy to hear you promise that! Of late I have had no heart to open the piano. But to-night I will awaken for you its most glorious chords!"

He raised her hand to his lips, and thanked her warmly.

And just at that very instant Miss Tabitha Winterose appeared in the doorway, her tall, thin form drawn up to its utmost height, her pale, pinched face lengthened, and her dim blue eyes and skinny hands lifted up in surprise and disapprobation.

"Well!" simultaneously exclaimed Mr. Berners and Mrs. Blondelle, as they instinctively drew away from each other.

But Miss Tabitha could not easily recover her composure. She was shocked and scandalized to see a gentleman and lady, who were not related to each other, sitting so close together, while the gentleman kissed the lady's hand!

"Did you want anything?" inquired Mr. Berners, rather impatiently.

"No, I didn't. Yes, I did," answered Miss Winterose, crossly and confusedly. "I came after that lady there to tell her that I think her child is going to be very sick, and I want her to come and look after him. That is, if she an't more pleasanter engaged!" added Miss Tabitha, scornfully.

"Please excuse me, Mr. Berners," murmured Rosa, sweetly, as she got up to go out with the housekeeper "_Old Cat!_" she muttered, under her breath, as soon as she was out of Lyon's hearing.

When Mr Berners was left alone, he did not resume the reading of his review. His heart became the prey of bitter-sweet reflections, made up of gratified self-love and of severe self-reproach.

"That beautiful creature _does_ care for me, and is pained by my coldness! Ah! but I hope and trust she loves me _only_ as a sister loves a brother! She has no brother, poor child! And her heart must have some one to lean on! I must be that one, for she has chosen me, and I will not be so recreant to humanity as to reject her trust."

Then his conscience smote him. And he felt that he had shown more tenderness for this lady than the occasion called for, or than his duty warranted. He had called her "dear;" he had kissed her hand; he had asked her if she loved him! And this in the face of all his late protestations to his wife!

Lyon Berners was an honorable man and devotedly attached to his wife, and he was shocked now at the recollection of how far he had been drawn away from the strict line of duty by this lovely blonde!

But then he said to himself that he had only caressed and soothed Rosa in a brotherly way; and that it was a great pity Sybil should be of such a jealous and exacting nature, as to wish to prevent him from showing a little brotherly love to this lovely and lonely lady.

And worried by these opposing thoughts and feelings, Lyon Berners left his sofa and began to pace up and down the length of the drawing-room floor.

In truth now, for the first time, the mischief was done! The siren had at last ensnared him, in her distress and dishabille, with her tears and tenderness, as she never had done in the full blaze of her adorned beauty, or by the most entrancing strains of divine melody.

While Lyon Berners paced up and down the drawing-room floor, he seemed to see again the tender, tearful gaze of her soft blue eyes upon him; seemed to hear again the melting tones of her melodious voice pleading with him: "How have I been so unhappy as to offend you, Mr. Berners?"

What a contrast this sweet humility of friendship with the fiery pride of Sybil's love!

While he was almost involuntarily drawing this comparison, he heard the wheels of the carriage that brought Sybil home roll up to the door and stop.

From her morning drive through the bright and frosty air, Sybil entered the drawing-room blooming, and glowing with health and happiness. For since that full explanation with her husband, she had been very happy.

Lyon Berners hastened to meet her. And perhaps it was his secret and painful consciousness of that little episode with Rosa, that caused him to throw into his manner even more than his usual show of affection, as he drew her to his bosom and kissed her fondly.

"Why!" exclaimed Sybil, laughing and pleased, "you meet me as if I had been gone a month, instead of a morning!"

"Your absence always seems long to me, dear wife, however short it may really be," he answered earnestly. And he spoke the truth; for notwithstanding his admiration of Rosa, and the invidious comparison he had just drawn between her and Sybil, in his heart of hearts he still loved his wife truly.

She threw off her bonnet and shawl, and sat down beside him and began to rattle away like a happy girl, telling him all the little incidents of her morning's drive--whom she had seen, what she had purchased, and how excited everybody was on the subject of her approaching fancy ball.

"The first one ever given in this neighborhood, you know. Lyon," she added.

And having told him all the news, she s.n.a.t.c.hed up her bonnet and shawl and ran up-stairs to her own room, where she found her thin housekeeper engaged in sorting out laces and snivelling.

"Why, what's the matter now, Miss Tabby?" cheerfully inquired Sybil.

"Well, then, to tell you the truth, ma'am, I am dreadfully exercised into my own mind," answered Miss Winterose, wiping a tear from the tip of her nose.

"What about, now?" gayly demanded Sybil, who felt not the slightest degree of alarm on account of Miss Tabby, knowing that lady to be a const.i.tutional and habitual whimperer.

"Then, it's all along of the wickedness and artfulness and deceitfulness of this here world."

"Well, never mind, Miss Tabby; you'll not have to answer for it all. But what particular instance of wickedness frets your soul now?" laughed Sybil.

"Why, now, there's where it is! I don't know whether I ought to tell, or whether I ought'n to; nor whether, if I was to tell, I would be looked upon into the light of a mischief-maker, or into the light of a true friend!" whimpered Miss Winterose.

"I can soon settle that question of ethics for you," laughed Sybil, all unsuspicious of what was coming.

"Do just as your conscience directs you, Miss Tabby, no matter how people may look upon you."

"Very well, then, ma'am; for my conscience do order me to speak! Oh, Miss Sybil! I have knowed you ever since you was a baby in my arms, and I can't bear to have you so deceived and imposed upon by that there treacherous, ungrateful White Cat!"

"White Cat?" echoed Sybil, in perplexity.

"Yes, Miss Sybil, that red-headed, false-hearted White Cat, as you took into your house and home, for to beguile and corrupt your own true husband!"

With a gasp and a suppressed cry, Sybil sank into her seat.

Miss Tabby, too full of her subject to notice Sybil's agitation, continued:

"No sooner had your carriage left the door this morning, Miss Sybil, than that there White Cat comes tipping on her tiptoes out of her room, in a long loose dressing-gown, with her hair all down, in a way as no real lady would ever be seen out of her own chamber, and she tips, tips, tips into the drawing-room, where she knows Mr. Berners is alone, and laying on the sofa!"

With a powerful effort Sybil controlled her violent emotion, held herself still, and listened.

"And that was bad enough, Miss Sybil! but that was nothing to what followed!" sighed Miss Tabby, wiping another tear from the end of her nose.