Mabel's Mistake Part 30

She shook her head sadly, murmuring:

"Nothing, Ralph, nothing."

"Do not trifle with me, Lina. Something must have occurred to cause this agitation. Can you not trust me?"

"There is nothing the matter! I was ill, and--and cried without knowing why."

"You cannot deceive me with an excuse like that. Has any one hurt your feelings! _do_ tell me what has happened."

But Lina only shook her head, and choked back the despair which rose to her lips. He would have taken her in his arms again, but the movement and the touch of his hand roused her to the fearful consciousness that she had no longer a right to seek consolation in his companionship. She broke away, terrified and oppressed, with a feeling of guilt at her momentary forgetfulness.

"Leave me, Ralph, I wish--I need to be alone."

"You wish--you _need_ to be alone! This is very strange, Lina! Will you give me no explanation? Have I offended you--tell me what I can have done? You know that I would rather die ten thousand deaths than cause you a moment's pain."

"Do not speak so, Ralph; do not torture me by such fears. You have never wounded me by word or look--you have always been kind and generous."

"Thank you! thank you! Then tell me what pains you! Darling, darling, you cannot know how I suffer to see you in this state. I must have an explanation. Lina, you have no right to refuse it."

"I can give none! Ralph, leave me, I must be alone. Another time I may be able to converse, but now"--she broke off abruptly, wringing her hands in impotent despair, while the great tears fell over them, like the last heavy drops of a spent shower. "Leave me, Ralph, leave me!" she exclaimed, with a gesture of insane agony.

"I cannot understand this! Can this be Lina--my own dear little Lina, always so confiding and truthful? Since my earliest recollection have you not known my every thought and wish--been as familiar with my heart as you were with your own? This is the first time that the slightest shadow has fallen upon your mind against me, yet there you stand, separated from me by some fearful sorrow, to which I can obtain no clue."

"Do not speak so, Ralph! I repeat that nothing troubles me much! Will you not believe me?"

"I never doubted your word before, Lina; but now--forgive me--I feel that you are concealing something terrible from me. When I left you, this morning, you promised to walk with me, and I hurried here the moment I was free, longing to take a ramble over the hills--will you not go?"

"Not to-day. I cannot--I am ill."

"Do not seek to excuse yourself! Say at once that you do not choose to go."

"You misunderstand me, Ralph, indeed you do."

"Forgive me, Lina; I am so maddened by the sight of your tears, that I scarcely know what I am saying. Only confide in me--can you not trust me, your lover, your betrothed?"

"G.o.d help me!" broke from Lina's white lips, but the exclamation was unheeded by the young man in his agitation.

"Have you a desire to hide anything from me--can you love, when you refuse to trust me."

"Ralph, leave me! If you have any mercy, go away, and let me be alone."

In her frenzy she threw up her arms with a gesture which seemed to him almost one of repulsion. He looked at her for a moment, his heart bursting with the first revelation of its woe, then muttering--

"Lina, has it come to this?" he sprang from the room, and the sound of his flying footsteps on the stair recalled her to a consciousness of what had befallen her.

She strove to utter his name, but it died husky and low in her parched throat. She must fly--anywhere to be out in the air, for the atmosphere of that close chamber seemed stifling her. She caught up a shawl which lay on a table, and rushed from the room and from the house. A sudden thought, which seemed instinct rather than reason, had made her start thus madly away to search for old Ben, the honest protector of her childhood, hoping that from him she could gather some explanation of the secret that seemed crushing the life from her frame.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

THE SLAVE AND HER MASTER.

The carriage which conveyed General Harrington, went at a rapid speed, till it entered the city. The General seemed unconscious of his unusual progress, and was lost in what seemed a disagreeable reverie, till he awoke amid a crash of omnibuses, and a whirl of carriages in Broadway.

Here he checked the driver, and leaving the carriage, bade him proceed to the club, and await his return there. He paused upon the side-walk, till the man was out of sight, then turning into a cross street, he walked rapidly forward into a neighborhood that he had seldom, if ever, visited before.

The dwelling he sought, proved to be a common brick house, without any peculiar feature to distinguish it from some twenty others, which completed a block, that stood close upon the street, and had a dusty, worn appearance, without a picturesque feature to attract attention.

General Harrington advanced up the steps, after a little disgustful hesitation, and rang the bell. The door was promptly opened, and an ordinary maid-servant stood in the entrance. The General inquired for some person in a low voice, and the girl made room for him to pa.s.s, with a nod of the head.

The hall was dark and gloomy, lighted only by narrow sashes each side of the door, and the whole building so far, presented nothing calculated to remove the distaste with which the fastidious old man had entered it.

The servant opened a door with some caution, closed it behind her, and after a little delay, returned, motioning with her hand that General Harrington should enter the room she had just left.

With this rather singular summons the woman disappeared, and General Harrington entered the door she had pointed out. It was a large room, lighted after the usual fashion in front, and with a deep long window in the lower end. This magnificent window occupied the entire end of the room, save where the corners were rendered convex by two immense mirrors, which formed a beautiful finish to the rich mouldings of the cas.e.m.e.nt, and curved gracefully back to the wall, making that end of the apartment almost semicircular.

Hangings of pale, straw-colored silk, brocaded with cl.u.s.ters of flowers, in which blue and pink predominated, gave a superb effect to the walls, and from the ceilings, a half-dozen cupids, beautifully painted in fresco, seemed showering roses upon the visitor, as he pa.s.sed under. The carpet was composed of a vast medallion pattern upon a white ground, scattered over with bouquets a little more defined and gorgeous than those upon the walls, as if the blossoms had grown smaller and more delicate as they crept upward toward the exquisite ceiling. The front windows were entirely m.u.f.fled by draperies of rich orange damask, lined with white, and with a silvery sheen running through the pattern, while curtains of the same warm material, fell on each side the bay window, giving it the appearance of a tent, open, and yet, to a certain degree, secluded, for a fall of lace swept from the cornice, hanging like a veil of woven frost-work before the gla.s.s, rendering every thing beyond indistinct, but dreamily beautiful.

General Harrington was surprised by the air of almost oriental magnificence which pervaded this apartment.

This room was not only in powerful contrast with the exterior of the dwelling, but it possessed an air of tropical splendor that would have surprised the General in any place. Divans, such as are seldom found out of an eastern palace, but slightly raised from the floor, and surmounted with cushions heavily embroidered with gold, ran more than half around it. A few pictures, gorgeous and showy, but of little value, hung upon the walls; and there was some display of statuary, equally deficient in ideal beauty.

The light which fell upon General Harrington, was soft and dreamy imbued with a faint tinge of greenish gold, like that which the sunshine leaves when it penetrates the foliage of a hemlock grove in spring. For the bay window opened into a broad balcony, open in summer, but sheeted in from the front by sashes, so arranged that the gla.s.s seemed to roll downwards, in waves of crystal, to the floor. This unique conservatory was crowded with the rarest plants, in full blossom, that swept their perfume in through the open window, penetrated the floating lace, and filled that end of the apartment with the glow of their blooming cl.u.s.ters.

The singular beauty of this scene--the quiet so profound, broken only by the bell-like dropping of a fountain--and the twitter of birds, hung in gilded cages, among the blossoms, had an overpowering charm even to a man so _blase_ as the General. He paused in astonishment, looking around with pleasant interest--for an instant, forgetful of the person he was seeking. But, to a man so accustomed to magnificence, this forgetfulness was but momentary, and with a quiet and almost derisive smile, he muttered:

"Upon my life, the creature is either witch or fairy, if this is really her home!"

He was interrupted by a sound, as of one moving upon a cushioned seat.

The light was so dim at the upper end of the room, that General Harrington had supposed himself alone, till the rustle of silk drew his attention to a lady rising from the divan, who came toward him with a sweeping motion, like some tropical bird disturbed in its nest.

The General paused, and stood gazing upon her as she advanced, irresolute and uncertain; for the whole place was so different to anything he had expected to find, that for a moment he was bewildered.

The lady advanced into the light, calmly and proudly, and with a gleam in her eyes, as if she enjoyed his astonishment. Her dress was of purple silk, wrought with cl.u.s.ters of gold-tinted flowers, that scintillated and gleamed as she moved out of the shadows; her raven hair, arranged in heavy bandeaux on each side her face, was surmounted by a cashmere scarf of pale green, which was carelessly knotted on one side of her head, and fell in a ma.s.s of fringe and embroidery on her left shoulder.

The flowing waves of her robe swept the carpet as she moved, and the undulations of her magnificent person, were like the movements of a leopard in its native forest. There was neither fairness nor youth in her person, and yet the large, oriental eyes, so velvety and black, had a power of beauty in them, that any man must have acknowledged; and there was a creamy softness of complexion, a peach-like bloom of the cheek, dusky but glowing--that harmonized With the gorgeous richness of her dress and surroundings. The woman stood before her visitor, her proud figure stooping slightly forward, and her eyes downcast, waiting for him to speak.

The General gazed on her a moment in silence, but a quiet smile of recognition stole to his lips; and, with an air, half-patronizing, half-pleased, he at last held out his hand.

"Zillah!"

The woman's hand trembled as she touched his; her head was uplifted for an instant, and an exulting glance shot from those strange eyes, bright as scintillations from a diamond.

"I was afraid you would not come," she said, gently.

"Why, Zillah?"