Victor's Triumph Part 13

"So it has often been said of me, miss. And if you or Miss Cavendish have any to send, I should be happy to take them," answered the young man, quite seriously.

"I have none," said Electra.

"Nor I, thank you," added Emma; "but you may, if you please, give my love to Mrs. Grey, and tell her we shall feel anxious until we hear of her safe arrival and improved health."

"I will do so with much pleasure," said Mr. Kyte, rising to take leave.

As soon as the visitor had left them the two young ladies exchanged glances of droll amazement.

"As sure as you live, Emma, the business of importance that takes him to Charlottesville is Mrs. Mary Grey! He's taken in and done for, poor wretch! I shouldn't wonder a bit if he sold out his share in the fancy dry-goods store at Wendover and invested all his capital in college fees and entered himself as a student at the University, for the sake of being near his enchantress," said Electra.

"Poor boy!" sighed Emma, with genuine pity.

And before they could exchange another word, the sound of carriage-wheels at the gate announced the arrival of Alden and Laura Lytton.

CHAPTER X.

THE FALSE AND THE TRUE LOVE.

Did woman's charms thy youth beguile, And did the fair one faithless prove?

Hath she betrayed thee with a smile And sold thy love?

Live! 'Twas a false, bewildering fire: Too often love's insidious dart Thrills the fond soul with wild desire, But kills the heart.

A n.o.bler love shall warm thy breast, A brighter maiden faithful prove, And thy ripe manhood shall be blest In woman's love.

--MONTGOMERY.

Emma Cavendish, with her cheeks blooming and eyes beaming with pleasure, ran out to meet her friends.

Alden and Laura Lytton, just admitted by the footman, stood within the hall.

Miss Cavendish welcomed Laura with a kiss and Alden with a cordial grasp of the hand.

"I am so delighted to see you, dear Laura; and you also, Mr. Lytton,"

she said, leading the way into the parlor.

"Well as I like my kind relatives at Lytton Lodge, I am very glad to get back to you, Emma, dear, and that is the truth," answered Laura, as she sank into an arm-chair and began to draw off her gloves.

Alden said nothing. He had bowed deeply in response to Miss Cavendish's words of welcome, and now he was thinking what a bright and beautiful creature she was, how full of healthful, joyous life she seemed, and wondering that he had never noticed all this before.

But he had noticed it before. When he first saw Emma Cavendish in her father's house in the city he had thought her the most heavenly vision of loveliness that had ever beamed upon mortal eyes; and he would have continued to think so had not the baleful beauty of Mary Grey glided before him and beguiled his sight and his soul.

But Mary Grey was gone with all her magic arts, and the very atmosphere seemed clearer and brighter for her absence.

"As soon as you have rested a little come up to your room, Laura, and lay on your wraps. Tea will be ready by the time we come down again.

And, Mrs. Lytton, your old attendant, Jerome, will show you to your apartment," said the young hostess, as she arose, with a smile, to conduct her guest.

They left the drawing-room together.

And while Laura Lytton was arranging her toilet in the chamber above stairs, Emma Cavendish told her the particulars of Mary Grey's departure, and also of the letter she had received from her long-estranged relative, Mrs. Fanning.

They went down to tea, where they were joined by Electra and the Rev.

Dr. Jones.

Miss Cavendish presented Mr. Lytton to Dr. Jones. And then they sat down to the table.

Alden Lytton's eyes and thoughts were naturally enough occupied and interested in Emma Cavendish. He had not exactly fallen in love with her, but he was certainly filled with admiration for the loveliest girl he had ever seen. And he could but draw involuntary comparisons between the fair, frank, bright maiden and the beautiful, alluring widow.

Both were brilliant, but with this difference: the one with the pure life-giving light of Heaven, and the other with the fatal fire of Tartarus.

After tea they went into the drawing-room, where they spent a long evening talking over old times--_their_ "old times" being something less than one year of age.

And every hour confirmed Alden Lytton's admiration of Emma Cavendish.

The next day Alden Lytton was invited upstairs to the old lady's room and presented to Madam Cavendish, who received him with much cordiality, telling him that his grandfather had been a lifelong personal friend of hers, and that she had known his father from his infancy up to the time that he had left the neighborhood to practice law in the city.

And after a short interview the ancient gentlewoman and the young law student parted mutually well pleased with each other.

"A fine young man--a very fine young man indeed; but more like his grandfather, as I remember him in his youth, than like his father, whom I could not always well approve," said the old lady to her confidential attendant, Aunt Moll, who had closed the chamber door after the departing visitor.

"Dunno nuffin 'tall 'bout dat, ole mist'ess, but he monsus hansume, dough--umph-um; a'n't he dough? And a'n't he got eyes--umph-um!"

Alden went down-stairs.

"The most interesting old lady I have ever seen in my life, with the balsamic aroma of history and antiquity about her and all her surroundings," he said, as he joined the young ladies in the drawing-room.

"Balsamic aroma of _what_?" inquired Electra, who had no taste for poetry and no reverence for antiquity. "Young man, it was the dried 'yarbs' she keeps in her closet that you smelled. Besides, antiquity has no other odor than that of mold and must."

Alden blushed, laughed and looked at Emma Cavendish.

"You must not mind my cousin Electra, Mr. Lytton. She is a privileged person among us. By the way, Laura has told you, I presume, of our relationship," said Emma, pleasantly.

"Oh, yes!" returned young Lytton, with a smile and a bow. "And I am happy to have this opportunity of congratulating you both."

"Thanks," said Miss Cavendish, with a vivid blush.

"I believe there was some talk about a picnic party to the top of Porcupine Mountain, was there not?" inquired Electra, to cut short all sentiment.

"Yes, my dear, and the horses are ordered for eleven o'clock. It is half-past ten now, and we will go and put on our hats and habits,"

replied Miss Cavendish, playfully rising and breaking up the conference.

The party of young friends remained one week longer at Blue Cliffs, every day deepening and confirming the admiration and respect with which the beauty and the excellence of Emma Cavendish inspired Alden Lytton.

But yet he was not in love with her.

Every morning was spent by the young people in riding or driving about through the sublime and beautiful mountain and valley scenery of the neighborhood.