The Masked Bridal Part 20

"Oh, I cannot lay claim to an acquaintance with her, as I have only seen her once, and our meeting was purely accidental," the lady responded. "She rendered me efficient service one day when she was out for a walk, and I inquired her name."

She then proceeded to explain the nature of that service and the accident that had called it forth, and concluded by remarking:

"Allow me to say I think that Monsieur Correlli has shown excellent taste in his choice of a wife. I was charmed with the young lady, and I would like to meet her again. Will you introduce me?" and she looked eagerly about the room in search of the graceful form and lovely face which she was so desirous of seeing.

"I am very sorry that I cannot comply with your request," said Mrs.

G.o.ddard, flushing slightly; "but Edith is rather delicate and the reception, after the marriage, was such a strain upon her that she fainted and was obliged to retire."

"That was very unfortunate," Mrs. Stewart observed, while she searched her companion's face curiously, "but I trust that I may have the pleasure of meeting her later."

"I cannot promise as to that," madam replied, "as it is my brother's intention to go abroad as soon as he can complete his arrangements to do so, although no date has been set as yet. But--have you ever met my husband. Mrs. Stewart?" she inquired, as that gentleman was seen approaching their way that moment.

"No, I have never had that honor," the lady returned; then added, with a light laugh: "I feel very much like an intruder to be here to-night as a stranger to both my host and hostess."

"Pray do not be troubled on that account," madam hastened cordially to reply: "any friend of my brother would be a welcome guest, and I am charmed to have made your acquaintance."

"Thank you," responded the beautiful stranger; but madam marveled at the line of white encircling the scarlet lips, as she signaled to her husband and called him by name:

"Gerald."

He glanced up, and both women noticed the expression of weariness and trouble upon his brow.

"You have not been introduced to Emil's friend, I think," his wife continued. "Allow me to present Mrs. Stewart--Mrs. Stewart, my husband, Mr. G.o.ddard."

The gentleman bowed with all his accustomed courtesy, but did not fairly get a glimpse of the lady's face until they both a.s.sumed an upright position again, when he found himself looking straight into the magnificent eyes of his guest.

As he met them it seemed as if some one had stabbed him to the heart, so sudden and terrible was the shock that he experienced.

He changed an involuntary groan into a cough, but he could not have been more ghastly if he had been dead, while he continued to gaze upon her as if fascinated.

"Ha! he has noticed it also!" said madam to herself, with a sudden heart-sinking.

Then realizing that something must be done to relieve the awkwardness of the situation, she hastened to observe:

"Mrs. Stewart has only just arrived--she did not come in season to witness our little drama."

Mr. G.o.ddard murmured some polite words of regret, but feeling all the while as if he were turning to stone.

Mrs. Stewart, however, responded in a pleasant vein, and chatted sociably for a few moments, when, some other friends joining them, more introductions followed, and the conversation became general.

Gerald G.o.ddard improved this opportunity to slip away; but his wife, who was covertly watching his every look and movement, noticed that he walked with the uncertain step of one who was either blind or intoxicated.

A feeling of depression settled upon her--a sense of impending evil, which, try as she would, she could neither forget nor shake off.

She began to be very impatient of all the glitter, glare, and gayety around her, and told herself that she would be heartily glad when the last dance was over, and the last guest had departed.

Truly, there is many an aching heart hidden beneath costly raiment and glittering jewels; and society is, to a large extent, but a smiling mask in which people hold high revel over the tombs of dead hopes and disappointed ambitions.

But fashion and folly must have their time; and so, in spite of madam's heart-ache and weariness, the dancing and merriment went on, no one dreamed of the phantom memories and the ghosts from out the past that were stalking about the beautiful rooms of that elegant mansion; or that its enviable (?) master and mistress were treading upon the verge of a volcano which, at any moment, was liable to burst all bounds and pour forth its furious lava-tide to consume them.

An hour later Mrs. Stewart again sought her hostess and wished her good-night, remarking that circ.u.mstances which she could not control compelled her to take an early leave.

"Ah! that is unfortunate, for supper will shortly be announced; cannot you possibly remain to partake of it?" madam urged, with cordial hospitality.

"Thanks, no; but I am promising myself the pleasure of meeting you again in the near future," Mrs. Stewart returned, shooting a searching glance at her hostess.

Her language and manner were perfect; but, for the second time that evening, Anna G.o.ddard noticed the peculiar shading in her words, and a chill that was like a breath from an iceberg went shivering over her.

She, however, replied courteously, and then Mrs. Stewart swept from the room upon the arm of her attendant.

Many earnest and curious glances followed the stately couple, for the lady was reported to be immensely rich, while it had also been whispered that the gentleman attending her--a distinguished artist--had long been a suitor for her hand; but, for some reason best known to herself, the lady had thus far turned a deaf ear to his entreaties, although it was evident that she regarded him with the greatest esteem, if not with sentiments of a tenderer nature.

After pa.s.sing through the covered walk leading to the house, the two separated--the gentleman to attend to having their carriage called, the lady to go upstairs for her wraps.

As she was about to enter the dressing-room to get them, a picture hanging between two windows at the end of the hall attracted her eye.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, catching her breath sharply, and moving swiftly toward it, she seemed to forget everything, and stood, with clasped hands and heaving bosom, spell-bound before it.

It represented a portion of an old Roman wall--a marvelously picturesque bit of scenery, with climbing vines that seemed to cling to the gray stones lovingly, as if to conceal their irregular lines and other ravages which time and the elements had made upon them; while here and there, growing out from its crevices, were cl.u.s.ters of delicate maiden-hair fern, the bright green of which contrasted beautifully with the weather-beaten wall and the darker, richer coloring of the vines.

Just underneath, partly in the shadow of the wall, there sat, upon a rustic bench, a beautiful Italian girl, dressed in the costume of her country, while at her feet reclined her lover, his hat lying on the gra.s.s beside him, his handsome face upturned to the maiden, whom it was evident he adored.

It was a charming picture, very artistic, and finely executed, while the subject was one that appealed strongly to the tenderest sentiments of the human heart.

But the face of the woman who was gazing upon it was deathly white.

She was motionless as a statue, and seemed to have forgotten time, place, and her surroundings, as she drank in with her wonderful eyes the scene before her.

"It is the wall upon the Appian Way in Rome," she breathed at last, with a long-drawn sigh.

"You are right, madam," responded a voice close at hand, the sound of which caused the woman to press her clasped hands hard upon her heaving bosom, though she gave no other sign of being startled.

The next moment she turned and faced the speaker.

It was Gerald G.o.ddard.

"I heard no one approaching--I thought I was alone," she said, as she lifted those wonderful eyes of hers to his.

He shrank from her glance as under a lightning flash that had burst upon him unawares.

But quickly recovering himself, he courteously remarked:

"Pardon me--I trust I have not startled you."

"Only momentarily," she replied; then added: "I was admiring this painting; it is very lovely and--most faithfully portrays the scene from which it was copied."

"Ah! you recognize the--the locality?"

"Perfectly."