Medoline Selwyn's Work Part 38

Perhaps she had a natural dread of going over a chapter in her life she might wish had never been written.

Meanwhile the wonder kept growing on me why this exquisite woman should come to me for sympathy. A feeling of pride, too, began swelling my heart to think that I could be of use to others than the hungry and naked, while I thought of the surprising account I should have to give at the dinner-table that evening, of my adventure. My self-complacency was destined to a rude shock. She turned to me suddenly, and asked, "How old would you take me to be?" I looked my surprise, no doubt, but began directly to examine critically the face before me. "I want you to tell me the truth. We don't value flattery from our own s.e.x; at least, I do not."

I could see no trace of time's unwelcome tooth in that smooth, ivory skin, as unwrinkled as a baby's face, while the rounded outlines and dimples would have graced a debutante.

"You are a long time deciding," she said, playfully--the color coming fitfully under my scrutiny.

"I will hazard twenty, but you may be older."

"You think not any younger than that?" The curving lashes drooped and an entirely new expression swept over the charming face.

"Now you look almost a child," I exclaimed with surprise. "You are a mystery to me, and I won't try to guess any more, for it is pure guess work."

She laughed merrily. "You are greatly mistaken. I was twenty-six yesterday." I may have looked incredulous, and she was very keen to read my thoughts.

"You do not believe me. Did you ever hear of a woman over twenty making herself out older than she was?"

"My experience is but limited." I still believed that for some reason of her own she was deceiving me respecting her age.

"When you hear my story your surprise will be that I do not look six and thirty, instead of a decade younger."

Her next question was more startling than the first. "How do you like Mr.

Winthrop?"

I replied guardedly that I liked him very well.

"Excuse me, but that is not a correct reply. No one that cares for him at all does so in that moderate fashion. They either love or hate him."

"Have you ever known him intimately enough to be able to say how he is liked, or deserves to be?"

She answered me by a low ripple of laughter. My perplexity was increasing, but I quite decided this Hermione Le Grange, as she called herself, had not a very sad heart to get comforted.

"Do you find Mr. Winthrop very amiable, in fact would you call him a lady's man?"

I paused to think carefully what answer I should give. "If he were a lady's man, probably before this he would have taken one for a wife."

"You have only answered half of my question," she said so gently I could not resent it.

"My guardian is very patient and indulgent with me. If he were more so I should find it hard to leave him some day."

"You mean when the day of marriage comes?"

"I have not thought anything of marriage yet. I mean, not seriously.

Every young girl has her dreams, I suppose; but mine as yet are very vague and unreal. At twenty-one I am my own mistress. Then probably my life of ease will come to an end."

"Ah, you have dreams of a career. From what my servants tell me I concluded you were not one of our regulation, conventional young ladies."

My cheeks flushed; for this was a tender place for her to touch.

"Is Mr. Winthrop pleased that you are so thoughtful of the poor, and so generous in your impulses?"

"Really, Mrs. Le Grande, you would make an excellent lawyer. I do not think I have had so many personal questions since I came to America.

School girls forget themselves sometimes, when they are of a very inquisitive disposition."

She looked me fully in the eyes as she said: "You have been wonderfully patient and very circ.u.mspect. I am sure in his heart Mr. Winthrop respects you even if he is at times a trifle cavalier in his behavior."

Her eyes were still upon me with the innocent, childlike expression on her face I was beginning to understand and fear. I said very calmly: "He can be exceedingly fascinating when he chooses, and if he really cared for one, I cannot imagine anything he would hesitate to do for them, provided it was honorable. I could not conceive him stooping to a mean or unworthy action."

"Mr. Winthrop will be flattered when I repeat your words."

"Then you know him?"

"You will think so when you hear my story."

CHAPTER XXI.

MRS. LE GRANDE'S STORY.

"Did you ever hear that Mr. Winthrop was within one day of being married?"

My surprise at first rendered me speechless; but at last I murmured, "No."

"Then you have never heard the tragedy of his life. You have heard that for some reason he was embittered against our s.e.x."

"A mere hint."

"So I should judge, or the rest would also have been told. Your acquaintance have been remarkably guarded. Well, I will tell you all about it."

"I do not wish you to tell me. I think Mr. Winthrop desires I should never know the particulars of that circ.u.mstance, else Mrs. Flaxman would have told me."

"You are very sensitive about your guardian. Women cannot afford such fine sense of honor. Men do not treat us in that way. If they find we have a skeleton concealed somewhere, they will not rest until it is brought out into the glaring light, for every evil eye to gloat on."

"Not every man. Many of them would help us to conceal what gave us pain.

I believe Mr. Winthrop is one of them. Then should I listen to what he wishes buried in oblivion?"

"It may be for his happiness that you should, dear; and my story and his are, for awhile, the same."

I had risen to put on my hat and cloak to get away from the temptation she pressed upon me; but at her last words I sank back into the chair.

"Can you be the woman he loved and was to marry?"

"Would it surprise you very much if I said Yes?"

"It would, and it would not."

"Your words are ambiguous. I was told you were exceedingly frank and impulsive, but one cannot always believe the public verdict."