For Woman's Love Part 9

"Who is there?"

Then a voice that she recognized even in its low, whispering tones spoke and arrested the words on her lips. It said:

"Fabe! Fabe! is that you?"

"Yes. Is all quiet?"

"Yes; and has been so for hours. Come in. Pa.s.s around, feeling by the wall until you reach the sofa. If you attempt to cross the room, you may strike a chair or table and make a noise, as I did."

The unseen man cautiously crept around by the wall, feeling his way, but occasionally striking and jarring a picture frame or looking gla.s.s as he pa.s.sed, and muttering good-humored little growls of deprecation, and finally making the sofa creak as he struck and sat heavily down upon it.

Cora was wide awake now, and quite cognizant of the ident.i.ty of the invisible persons in the room as that of Mr. Fabian Rockharrt and Mrs.

Rose Stillwater.

It did not once occur to the girl that she was doing any wrong in remaining there, in the parlor common to the whole party. Surprise and wonder held her spellbound in her obscure seat.

The sofa on which they sat was between the two windows. She reclined in the easy chair in the corner between the right-hand window and the door of her room. She was so near them that she might have touched the sofa by stretching out her hand.

Without dreaming of harm, she overheard their conversation.

Mr. Fabian was the first to speak.

"I say, Rose," he began, "I have a deuce of a hard time to get a tete-a-tete with you. This is the first we have had for two months."

"And we could not have had this but for the accidental arrangement of these convenient rooms," she whispered.

"Exactly. We must arrange for future plans to-night. I understand that the old folks have been trying to persuade you to return home with us?"

"Yes; but, of course, I shall not go."

"Of course not; but how did you get out of it?"

"Oh, by raising the old gentleman."

"Do you mean the--the--the--de--"

"Certainly not. I mean my husband, the gallant Captain Stillwater, of the East Indiaman Queen of Sheba, who has been spoken within three days'

sail of port, and is expected here every hour. So that, you see, I must remain here to welcome my husband. It is my sacred duty," said the woman demurely.

"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Mr. Fabian, in a low, half-suppressed chuckle.

"Hush! Oh, be careful! You will be heard!" murmured Rose Stillwater, in a frightened whisper.

"What! at this hour? Why, everybody in this suite is in his or her deepest sleep. I say, Rosebud."

"What?"

"His Majesty the King of the c.u.mberland Mines has been in a demoniac humor ever since he learned that you were not coming home with us."

"I know it, and I am very sorry for it, especially on his family's account, but I could not help it."

"Certainly not. It would have been inconvenient and embarra.s.sing. Look here, Rosalie."

"Well?"

"If the aged monarch was not such a perfect dragon of truth, honesty and fidelity, and all the cast-iron virtues, I should think that he was over head and ears in love with you."

"Nonsense, Fabian! Mr. Rockharrt is old enough to be my grandfather, and his hair is quite gray."

"If he were old enough to be your great-grandfather, and his hair was quite white, it need make no difference in that respect, my dear. The fires of Mt. Hecla burn beneath eternal snows."

"What rubbish you are talking, Fabian! But--to change the subject--when will my house be ready? I warn you that I will not go back to that brick block on Main Street in your State capital."

"You should not, Rosebella. Your home is finished and furnished; and a lovelier bower of roses cannot be found out of paradise! It is simply perfection, or it will be when you take possession of it."

"Yes; tell me all about it," whispered the lady, eagerly.

"It is a small, elegant villa, situated in the midst of beautiful grounds in a small, sequestered dell, inclosed with wooded hills rising backward into forest-crowned mountains, and watered by many little springs rising among the rocks and running down to empty into a miniature lake that lies shining before the house. It seems to be in the heart of the c.u.mberlands, in the depth of solitude, yet it is not fifteen minutes' walk by a forest footpath to the railway station at North End."

"What shall we name this little Eden?"

"Rose Bower, and the locality Rose Valley."

"And when may I take possession?"

"Whenever you please. All is prepared and waiting the arrival of Mrs.

Stillwater, who has taken the house and engaged the servants through her agent, and who is expected to reside there during the absence of her husband, Captain Stillwater, on long voyages."

"How long are these false appearances to be kept up, and when are our true relations to be announced?"

"Before very long, my sweet!"

"I hate this concealment! I know that I am a favorite with your father and mother, so I cannot see why you have not told them and will not tell them."

"Now, Rosamunda, don't be a little idiot! Be a little angel, as you always have been! Am I not doing everything I can for your comfort and happiness, only asking you in turn to be faithful and patient until I can make you my wife before the whole world? My father does not like the idea of my marrying--anybody! If he knew we were engaged to each other, he would never forgive me, and that means he would cut me off from all share in the patrimony. And we could not afford to lose that! Let me tell you a secret, Rose. Though our firm does business under the name 'Rockharrt & Sons,' yet 'Sons' have a merely nominal interest in the works while Rockharrt lives. So you see, I have very little of my own, and if the autocrat should learn, even by our own confession, that we had been--been--been--concealing our engagement from him, he would never forgive either of us."

At this moment a step was heard pa.s.sing along the corridor outside.

It caused the two unseen inmates of the parlor to shrink into silence, and even when it had pa.s.sed out of hearing it caused them, in renewing their conversation, to speak only in the lowest tones, so that Cora could no longer catch a word of their speech.

She would before this have risen and retired to her own room; but she was afraid of making a noise, and consequently causing a scene.

Were those two, her Uncle Fabian and Mrs. Stillwater, only secretly engaged? Secretly engaged? But whoever heard of a betrothed lover providing a home for his betrothed bride to live in before marriage! And then, again, was her Uncle Fabian really so dependent on his father as he had represented to Rose? Cora had always understood that he had a quarter share in the great business, and that Clarence had an eighth.

And, worse than all, had they been so deceived as to the condition of Rose that, if she was Mrs. Stillwater at all, she was the widow and not the wife of Captain Stillwater, since she was engaged to be married, if not already married, to Mr. Fabian Rockharrt?

Altogether the affair seemed a blinding and confusing tissue of falsehood and deception that amazed and repulsed the mind of the girl.

Bewildered by the mystery, lulled by the hum of voices whose words she could not distinguish, fanned by the breeze from the harbor, and calmed by the darkness, the wearied girl sank back into her resting chair, closed her eyes, and lost the sequence of her thoughts in dreams--from which she presently sank into dreamless sleep, which lasted until she was awakened by the noise of the hotel servants moving about on their morning duties, opening windows, rapping at doors to call up travelers for early trains, dragging along trunks, and so on.