Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 8

Hubert Tracy was far from being in a settled state of mind. He had a continual dread of his suspected rival, while a strange fascination possessed him--a something which attracted him to the latter with a force in proportion equal to the dread.

It was this state of mind that forced his steps to the barrister's office at this time, and as he turned the burning subject over and over he felt more confused.

"It is madness to give up--it will kill me;" were the thoughts that rose half framed to his lips and then forced themselves back with renewed energy.

But of the forgoing conversation which we interrupted.

"Don't be alarmed my friend," cried Phillip "I can get rid of it sooner than you, and judging from your looks this morning one would imagine you too had been battling with some of the 'ills that human flesh is heir to.'"

Hubert Tracy winced under this remark but the fact was lost upon the other who innocently exclaimed, "Any trouble in the shipping business just now."

The young man laughed.

"Thank heaven I'm right on that score and don't even expect much trouble unless the world would get turned upside down."

"Which is an unlikelihood," said Phillip adroitly. And much as we speak of the uncertainties of this world, the latter remark might be accepted as a truism in regard to the pecuniary affairs of Hubert Tracy.

He was the heir of a rich uncle--a modern Croesus--a man who had ama.s.sed a princely fortune by his wonderful success as a manufacturer and speculator.

It was this circ.u.mstance which gave the nephew such value in the eyes of good society. Hubert Tracy was fully aware how matters stood. He knew that money was the only screen to cover up all the shortcomings and glaring deformities of our nature. He well knew that he could haunt the abode of dissipation and vice and fill up the intervals with the gaieties of the fashionable drawing-rooms. He well knew that a young man of pure morals with strong determination to rise to the highest manhood would have no chance with the heir of Peter Tracy.

And the young man was right. He was sought after and courted by fashionable mothers who saw only in this beau ideal of a son-in-law--fine houses, fine carriages and in short everything that wealth could give.

The worldly Mrs. Verne was not without her day dreams on this subject. She never let an opportunity slip when she could show Mr.

Tracy that patronage which his prospects demanded.

But this woman of the world did nothing rashly. She was always acting from motive and though apparently unconcerned was keenly alive to the situation of the hour.

Such was the tenor of Phillip Lawson's thoughts as he chatted to Hubert Tracy for more than half an hour, when the latter departed less satisfied than when he entered. Then the former set to work upon some important business, and being a rapid penman, soon finished the job. Finding time for a short brown study, or more properly speaking a soliloquy.

"If I go out there and be dissatisfied it will be worse than ever, and there is Lottie, I cannot think of taking her with me. The poor child would break her heart if I left her behind, and our cosy home would be broken up--perhaps forever."

Home had always been the oasis in the dreary waste of Phillip Lawson's late eventful life. After the monotonous round of office-work he always antic.i.p.ated with delight the hour and circ.u.mstances so truthfully depicted by the poet.

"Now stir the fire and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steaming column and the cups That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in."

Therefore the thought gave much pain. "But life is made up of such struggles," murmured Phillip, "and it is our duty to be happy wherever we are--in Winnipeg as well as St. John." The last words were repeated in a tone of determination and the speaker arose hastily, took down his overcoat and shortly afterwards was to be seen walking along the north side of King street with a rapid but regular step. Having gained Charlotte street the young lawyer is greeted in an artless and unaffected manner by Marguerite.

The graceful and sylph-like form had sufficient power to cast all the high minded resolutions to the four winds of the earth. In the maiden's presence Phillip Lawson was bound body and soul, yet he would not allow himself to think so.

"I am quite fortunate in meeting you, Mr. Lawson, as I am saved the trouble of sending a note." Marguerite emphasized the word trouble in a manner altogether peculiar to herself and a manner which infected the banister with a certain degree of gaiety that was unusual to him.

And no wonder that our friend felt the influence of the maiden's smiles. Marguerite Verne was indeed a pretty picture to study. Her rich costume of seal brown, plush with ruchings of feathers, the coquettish hat to match with the jaunty ostrich plume were becoming in the extreme and gave an air of richness and refined elegance.

"Is it any harm to inquire as to your wishes Miss Marguerite?" said Phillip, glancing inquisitively into her face.

"I don't think I shall tell you to-day."

There was a look of arch mischief accompanying the words--a spirit of banter that was truly fascinating.

Phillip had escorted his companion as far as Coburg street, where the latter was to call upon some of her friends.

"Mr. Lawson, I am not quite so dreadful as you think. Come this evening and I shall gratify your curiosity at once, and you know papa always likes to see you."

"I shall go," exclaimed the barrister to himself, as he had turned down Paddock street on his way homewards. "Her papa will receive me; why did she not say Evelyn?"

Marguerite was sensitive on the subject of Mr. Lawson's reception, and she had a modest intuition of her friend's feelings, and, as is too often the case in trying to smooth matters, only made a greater blunder.

"Why did I not let well alone," exclaimed the girl, as she stood on the broad stone steps leading to the elegant home. It was six o'clock and the first bell gave the warning that there was barely time to dress for dinner.

"He will be here without fail, for I know his word is inviolable,"

cried the girl, as she hastily re-arranged some lace on the sleeves of her pretty dinner dress--a combination of silk and velvet in shade of ash of roses.

"Dear me, there is the bell, and my hair not presentable."

But Marguerite was mistaken.

"Why, Madge, where have you been?"

"I have been out making calls," said she, with an air of surprise.

"Well, my dear, I advise you to go every day if you can bring back such roses."

Marguerite blushed as deeply as if the compliment came from an admirer--aye, more so; for the girl well knew that those from her fond parent were from the heart.

"There now, don't spoil them, _ma belle_," cried Mr. Verne, his eye resting with fond admiration upon his daughter.

Children are oftentimes _de trop_, and Charlie Verne proved no exception.

"Papa, I was one day with Madge, and she had two big red spots on her cheeks as big peonies."

The precocious youth was on the eve of explanation, when Mrs.

Verne's--"Children should be seen and not heard" put an end to the subject.

It were well for Marguerite that her elder sister did not grace the festive board that evening. Evelyn's keen and penetrative eye would have taken in the situation at a glance. The light in the soft, deep, violet eyes would tell the tale that the maiden would strive to conceal; and the bright flush, heightened by fond antic.i.p.ation, would have accomplished its deadly work.

But Marguerite was granted further respite.

She gave Phillip Lawson a quiet reception, and much to the relief of the latter, they were allowed to chat at their ease the greater part of the evening, uninterrupted by a guest.

Mr. Verne, having returned from one of those Board of Trade meetings, on hearing that Mr. Lawson was in the drawing-room, immediately made his appearance, and from his warm greeting, one might see that the young lawyer stood high in his favor, and that his prospects were indeed fair as any suitor might wish for.

CHAPTER IX.

MR. SPRIGGINS GETS INSURED--THE DOMINION SAFETY FUND.