Victor's Triumph Part 16

There was no steamboat to Mount Ascension Island until the next day.

So the party for that bourne were compelled to spend the night at Richmond.

Alden, although he might have gone on to Charlottesville that night, determined to remain with his friends.

The whole party went to the Henrico House, where they were accommodated with adjoining rooms.

The next morning they resumed their journey, separating to go their several ways. Alden saw the two young ladies safely on the steamboat that was to take them to Mount Ascension, and then bade them good-bye, leaving them in charge of the Rev. Dr. Jones, who was to escort them to the end of their journey.

He had barely time to secure his seat for Charlottesville, where he arrived on the afternoon of the same day.

The letter he had to deliver to Mary Grey "burned in his pocket." He could not have done otherwise than promise to deliver it in person, when fair Emma Cavendish had requested him to do so. And now, of course, he must keep his word and go and carry the letter to her, although he would rather have walked into a fire than into that false siren's presence.

It is true that his love for her was dead and gone. But it had died such a cruel and violent death that the very memory of it was full of pain and horror, and to meet her would be like meeting the specter of his murdered love. Nevertheless he must not shrink from his duty; he must go and do it.

Before reporting at his college, he went to a hotel and changed his clothes, and then started out to find Mary Grey's residence. That was not so easily done. She had omitted to leave her address with her friends at Blue Cliffs, and Emma's letter was simply directed to Mrs.

Mary Grey, Charlottesville.

True, Charlottesville was not a very large place; but looking for a lady there was something like looking for the fabulous needle in the haystack.

Still, he had formed a plan of action to find her. He knew that she pretended to great piety; that she was a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and that wherever she might happen to sojourn she would be sure to join the church and make friends with the clergy of her own denomination.

So Alden bent his steps to the house of the Episcopal minister at Charlottesville.

He found the reverend gentleman at home, and received from him, as he had expected to do, the address of Mrs. Grey.

"A most excellent young woman, sir--an earnest Christian. She lost not a day in presenting her church letter and uniting herself with the church.

She has been here but ten days, and already she has taken a cla.s.s in the Sunday-school. A most meritorious young woman, sir," said the worthy minister, as he handed the card with Mrs. Grey's new address written upon it.

To Alden, who knew the false-hearted beauty so well, all this was surprising.

But he made no comment. He simply took the card, bowed his thanks, and left the house to go and seek the home of Mrs. Grey.

Among many falsehoods, the woman had told one truth when she had informed Emma Cavendish that she had a lady friend at Charlottesville who kept a students' boarding-house. She had met this lady just previous to engaging as drawing-mistress at Mount Ascension. And by her alluring arts she had won her sympathy and confidence. She was staying with this friend at the time that Alden sought her out.

He now easily found the house.

And when he inquired of the negro boy who answered the bell whether Mrs.

Grey was at home, he was answered in the affirmative and invited to enter the house.

The boy opened a door on the right hand of the narrow entrance pa.s.sage, and Alden pa.s.sed into the parlor and found himself, unannounced, in the presence of his false love.

There was no one with her, and she was sitting at a table, with drawing materials before her, apparently engaged in copying a picture.

Hearing the door open and shut, she lifted her head and looked up.

Seeing Alden Lytton standing before her, she dropped the pencil from her fingers, turned deathly pale and stared at him in silence.

Alden, if the truth must be told, was scarcely less agitated; but he soon recovered his self-command.

"I should apologize," he said, "for coming in unannounced; but I did not know that you were here. I was shown into this room by the waiter, supposing that I was to remain here until he took my card to you."

She neither moved nor spoke, but sat and stared at him.

"I have only come as the bearer of a letter to you from Miss Cavendish--a letter that I promised to deliver in person. Here it is,"

he said, laying the little packet on the table before her.

Still she made no answer to his words, nor any acknowledgment of his service. She did not even take up Emma's letter.

"And now, having done my errand, I will bid you good-afternoon, Mrs.

Grey," he said, bowing and turning to leave the room.

That broke the panic-stricken spell that held her still.

She started up and clasped her hands suddenly together, exclaiming:

"No, no, no; for pity's sake don't go yet! Now that you are here, for Heaven's sake stay a moment and listen to me!"

"What can you possibly have to say to me, Mrs. Grey?" coolly inquired the young man.

"Oh, sit down--sit down one little moment and hear me! I have not got the plague, that you should hasten from me so," she pleaded.

It was in Alden's thoughts to say that moral plagues were even more dangerous and fatal than material ones; but the woman before him looked so really distressed that he forbore.

"I know that you have ceased to love me," she went on in a broken voice.

"I know, of course, that you have ceased to love me--"

"Yes, I am thoroughly cured of that egregious boyish folly," a.s.sented Alden, grimly.

"I know it, and I would not seek to recover your lost, lost love; but--"

Her voice, that had been faltering, now quite broke down, and she burst into tears and sobbed as if her heart was breaking.

And her grief was as real as it was violent; for she had loved the handsome young law student, and she mourned the loss of his love.

Alden sat apparently unmoved, but in truth he was beginning to feel very sorry for this woman, but it was with the sorrow we feel for a suffering criminal, and totally distinct from sympathy or affection.

Presently her gust of tears and sobs exhausted itself, and she sighed and dried her eyes and said:

"Yes, I know that all love is quite over between us."

"Quite over," a.s.sented Alden, emphatically.

"And it is not to renew that subject that I asked you to stay and listen to me."

"No," said Alden, gently, "I presume not."

"But, though all thoughts of love are forever over between us, yet I can not bear that we should live at enmity. As for me, I am not your enemy, Alden Lytton."