Sharing Her Crime Part 45

"Yes; though this is my native village, yet I have been absent for many years in Europe. May I ask if you are acquainted with the inmates of Sunset Hall yonder?"

"Yes; I've seen them."

"Are they all well?"

"Why, yes, I believe so; all but Spi--I mean Dr. Wiseman."

"Dr. Wiseman! What has he to do there?--he does not belong to the family."

"Yes, he does."

"_What?_"

"He married a ward of Squire Erliston's--Gipsy--something, I think they called her. Gow--Gow--Gower, I believe, was the name--and then, with his daughter, came there to live."

"Why, is it possible? Has little Gipsy Gower married that old man--old enough to be her grandfather?" exclaimed Louis, in unbounded amazement.

"Yes."

"Well, after that, nothing will surprise me. And Archie never mentioned a word of it," said Louis, in a sort of soliloquy; "and my--and Mrs.

Oranmore, how is she?"

"Pretty well. She has not been very strong lately."

"Poor mother! And the squire?"

"Is quite well."

"You reside in St. Mark's, I presume?"

"Why, yes. Nonsense, Louis! Don't you know me?"

"Hallo! No, it's not; yes, it is, though; it's Gipsy Gower, is it not?"

cried Louis.

"No, sir. Mrs. Nicholas Wiseman, if you please," said Gipsy, drawing herself up.

"My dear little Gipsy, I am delighted to meet you again. How handsome you have grown! Allow me to embrace my little playmate?"

Accepting his salute with saucy cordiality, Gipsy turned her horse's head in the direction of the Hall.

"Tell me now, Louis, what brings you home so suddenly?" asked Gipsy.

"Why, to confess the truth, I grew tired of sight-seeing, and began to feel homesick for the old, familiar faces; so, wishing to surprise you all, I started without sending you word, and here I am. But, Gipsy, whatever possessed you to marry that old man?"

"_Love_, of course. People always marry for love, you know."

"Pshaw! Gipsy, I know better than that. Why did you jilt poor Archie? I met him in Paris, half crazy, one would imagine. He answered my questions rationally enough, until we came to speak of you, when he burst forth into a torrent of invectives against flirts and deceivers in general, and then seized his hat and fled from the room, leaving me to conjecture as best I might his meaning. Come, Gipsy, own up, are you not the cause of all this frenzy?"

Gipsy's face had grown very pale; her eyes were bent on the ground, her lips firmly compressed, as she answered, in a low, hurried voice:

"Louis, don't talk to me on this subject. I am wicked and wretched enough the best of times, but I always feel like a perfect fiend when this subject is mentioned. Suffice it for you to know that fate had decreed I should wed Dr. Wiseman; no earthly power could have prevented it, therefore I became his wife."

"Did they dare to force you?" exclaimed Louis, with a kindling eye. "If so----"

"No, no, Louis; I could have refused if I would. Don't mention this subject more. See, there is the old hall; and there at the gate stands Minnette Wiseman, _my_ daughter now, you know. Is she not a beautiful girl?"

"Beautiful indeed!" exclaimed Louis, enthusiastically, pausing involuntarily to gaze upon her.

Splendid indeed looked Minnette. Her dress of black (she always wore black) fluttering in the morning breeze, and confined at the slender waist by a dark crimson belt. Her long, shiny blue-black hair was twined in cla.s.sic braids around her superb head. Her glorious black eyes were fixed on the glancing waters of the bay, and no June rose ever bloomed a more brilliant crimson than the hue of her cheek. She might have been an Eastern queen--for her beauty was truly regal, with her dark, oriental face, and splendid Syrian eye; but there was too much fire and pa.s.sion in her nature, and too few womanly traits and feelings.

"Oh, Minnette, guess who's come!" cried Gipsy, riding up to where she stood.

"Who?" said Minnette, breathlessly, as her eye fell on Louis.

The next moment she started convulsively; the blood rushed in torrents to her brow. _She_ had recognized him, though Gipsy had not.

"It's Louis," said Gipsy--"Louis Oranmore! Come, Louis! come! Miss Minnette. I am going up to the house to tell them you have come."

She was off like a flash, up the lawn, and in the house, while Louis leaped from his horse, and with courtly grace raised Minnette's hand to his lips; while she, pressing her hand to her heart, that beat and throbbed as though it would force its way to him, strove to return his salutation. It was a strange thing to see the cold, marble-like Minnette so moved.

"How everything has changed since I left home!" said Louis; "the place itself seems changed, and you more than all. I left you a little girl, thoughtful beyond your years, and I return to find you----"

"The most beautiful woman my eyes ever rested on," he would have said, but she raised her head, and something in the expression of her face checked him.

No marble ever was whiter or more cold, as she said:

"Yes, all has changed, and none more so than your former _favorite_, Celeste."

"Ah! little Celeste--how is she? I had forgotten to ask for her. I trust she is well?"

"I presume so. I know nothing to the contrary."

"I remember her a lovely child; I suppose she is an equally lovely girl?" said Louis, carelessly.

A scorching, scathing glance shot from the lightning eyes of Minnette; but, without answering him, she turned away, and walked steadily into the house.

"Strange, incomprehensible girl!" said Louis, looking in surprise after her. "How that flashing glance reminds me of the Minnette of other days!

Have I said anything to offend her, I wonder? Heigho! what a radiant creature she is, to be sure! What would not some of the gay court beauties I know give for that superb form and glorious face! Well, I must not fall in love with her, however, if I can help it. Here comes that airy little mountain sprite, Gipsy! and now for my lady mother!"

"Come, Louis, come!" she cried, darting in again.

Louis followed her as she led the way to his mother's chamber. Then opening the door, she ushered him in, and closing it after her, immediately retreated.

Lizzie sat in an easy-chair, a crimson shawl wrapped around her, her eyes bright, her pale cheeks flushed with expectation. She arose at his entrance, and the next moment was clasped in his arms, while their mutual exclamations were:

"My dear Louis!"

"My dearest mother!"