Daisy Brooks Part 13

Daisy hid her face in the pillow. She thought she would go mad upon being so cruelly misunderstood. Oh! if she had only dared throw herself into their arms and sob out her heartaches on their bosoms.

Yes, she was a bride, but the most pitifully homesick, weary, disheartened little girl-bride that ever the sun shone on in the wide, wild world.

They a.s.sisted Daisy to arise, brushing out her long, tangled, golden curls, declaring to one another the pretty little creature looked more like a merry, rosy-cheeked school-girl than a little bride-wife, in her pink-and-white dotted muslin, which they had in the meantime done up for her with their own hands.

They wondered, too, why she never asked for her husband, and she looked almost ready to faint when they spoke of him.

"There seems to be something of a mystery here," remarked one of the sisters when the trio were alone. "If that child is a bride, she is certainly not a happy one. I do not like to judge a fellow-creature--Heaven forbid! but I am sorely afraid all is not right with her. Twice this afternoon, entering the room quietly, I have found her lying face downward on the sofa, crying as if her heart would break! I am sorely puzzled!"

And the flame of suspicion once lighted was not easily extinguished in the hearts of the curious spinsters.

"'Won't you tell me your sorrow, my dear?' I said.

"'No, no; I dare not!' she replied.

"'Will you not confide in me, Mrs. Stanwick?' I asked.

"She started up wildly, throwing her arms about my neck.

"'Won't you please call me Daisy?' she sobbed, piteously; 'just Daisy--nothing else.'

"'Certainly, my dear, if you wish it,' I replied. 'There is one question I would like to ask you, Daisy--you have told me your mother is dead?'

"'Yes,' she said, leaning her golden head against the window, and watching the white clouds overhead in the blue sky--'my poor, dear mother is dead!'

"'Then will you answer me truthfully the question I am about to ask you, Daisy, remembering your mother up in heaven hears you.'

"She raised her blue eyes to mine.

"'I shall answer truthfully any question you may put to me,' she said; 'if--if--it is not about Mr. Stanwick.'

"'It is about yourself, Daisy,' I said, gravely. 'Tell me truthfully, child, are you really a wife?'

"She caught her breath with a hard, gasping sound; but her blue eyes met mine unflinchingly.

"'Yes, madame, I am, in the sight of G.o.d and man; but I am such an unhappy one. I can not tell you why. My heart is breaking. I want to go back to Allendale!'

"'Is that where you live, Daisy?'

"'Yes,' she said; 'I am going to start to-morrow morning.'"

"How strange!" echoed the two sisters.

"The strangest part of the affair is yet to come. The little creature drew from her pocket a twenty-dollar bill.

"'You have been kind and good to me,' she said. I must take enough to carry me back to Allendale. You shall have all the rest, madame.'

"'Put your money back into your pocket, Daisy,' I replied. 'Your husband has already paid your bill. He begged me to accept it in advance on the night you came.'

"She gave a great start, and a flood of hot color rushed over her face.

"'I--I--did not know,' she said, faintly, 'how very good Mr. Stanwick has been to me.'"

The three sisters looked at one another in silent wonder over the rims of their spectacles and shook their heads ominously.

Dear reader, we must return at this period to Rex--poor, broken-hearted Rex--whom we left in the company of Pluma Hurlhurst in the s.p.a.cious parlor of Whitestone Hall.

"Daisy Brooks is at this moment with Lester Stanwick! You must learn to forget her, Rex," she repeated, slowly.

A low cry escaped from Rex's lips, and he recoiled from her as though she had struck him a heavy blow. His heart seemed fairly stifled in his bosom, and he trembled in every limb with repressed excitement.

"Here is a letter from Madame Whitney," she continued. "Read it for yourself, Rex. You see, she says: 'Daisy fled. It has been since ascertained she went to Elmwood, a station some sixty miles from here, where she now is, at the cottage of the Burton sisters, in company with her lover. I shall not attempt to claim her--her retribution must come from another source.'"

The words seemed to stand out in letters of fire.

"Oh, my little love," he cried, "there must be some terrible mistake!

My G.o.d! my G.o.d! there must be some horrible mistake--some foul conspiracy against you, my little sweetheart, my darling love!"

He rose to his feet with a deep-drawn sigh, his teeth shut close, his heart beating with great strangling throbs of pain. Strong and brave as Rex was, this trouble was almost more than he could bear.

"Where are you going, Rex?" said Pluma, laying a detaining hand upon his arm.

"I am going to Elmwood," he cried, bitterly, "to prove this accusation is a cruel falsehood. Daisy has no lover; she is as sweet and pure as Heaven itself! I was mad to doubt her for a single instant."

"Judge for yourself, Rex--seeing is believing," said Pluma, maliciously, a smoldering vengeance burning in her flashing eyes, and a cold, cruel smile flitting across her face, while she murmured under her breath: "Go, fond, foolish lover; your fool's paradise will be rudely shattered--ay, your hopes crushed worse than mine are now, for your lips can not wear a smile like mine when your heart is breaking.

Good-bye, Rex," she said, "and remember, in the hour when sorrow strikes you keenest, turn to me; my friendship is true, and shall never fail you."

Rex bowed coldly and turned away; his heart was too sick for empty words, and the heavy-hearted young man, who slowly walked down the graveled path away from Whitestone Hall in the moonlight, was as little like the gay, handsome Rex of one short week ago as could well be imagined.

There was the scent of roses and honeysuckles in the soft wind; and some sweet-voiced bird awakened from sleep, and fancying it was day, swung to and fro amid the green foliage, filling the night with melody. The pitying stars shone down upon him from the moonlighted heavens; but the still, solemn beauty of the night was lost upon Rex.

He regretted--oh! so bitterly--that he had parted from his sweet little girl-bride, fearing his mother's scornful anger, or through a sense of mistaken duty.

"Had they but known little Daisy is my wife, they would have known how impossible was their accusation that she was with Lester Stanwick."

He shuddered at the very thought of such a possibility.

The thought of Daisy, his little girl-bride, being sent to school amused him.

"Poor little robin!" he murmured. "No wonder she flew from her bondage when she found the cage-door open! How pleased the little gypsy will be to see me!" he mused. "I will clasp the dear little runaway in my arms, and never let her leave me again! Mother could not help loving my little Daisy if she were once to see her, and sister Birdie would take to her at once."

The next morning broke bright and clear; the sunshine drifted through the green foliage of the trees, and crimson-breasted robins sung their sweetest songs in the swaying boughs of the blossoming magnolias; pansies and b.u.t.tercups gemmed the distant hill-slope, and nature's fountain--a merry, babbling brook--danced joyously through the clover banks. No cloud was in the fair, blue, smiling heavens; no voice of nature warned poor little Daisy, as she stood at the open window drinking in the pure, sweet beauty of the morning of the dark clouds which were gathering over her innocent head, and of the storm which was so soon to burst upon her in all its fury. Daisy turned away from the window with a little sigh. She did not see a handsome, stalwart figure hurrying down the hill-side toward the cottage. How her heart would have throbbed if she had only known Rex (for it was he) was so near her! With a strangely beating heart he advanced toward the little wicket gate, at which stood one of the sisters, busily engaged pruning her rose-bushes.

"Can you tell me, madame, where I can find the Misses Burton's cottage?" he asked, courteously lifting his hat.

"This is the Burton cottage," she answered, "and I am Ruth Burton.

What can I do for you?"