Wee Wifie Part 36

"Was not Cain's punishment greater than he could bear?

"When they came to me as I lay in my despair across the threshold of his door, and told me that the light of those beautiful eyes was quenched forever; that I should never meet that loving glance again, that he was blind--blind--and that it was my hand that had done it; then it was that in my agony I breathed the vow that I would remove their curse from them, that I would wander forth, Cain-like, into the great world, until my punishment was in some degree commensurate with my sin. Fern, I have never faltered in my purpose. I have never repented of my resolve, though their love has sought to recall me, and I know that in their hearts they have forgiven me. I have worked, and wept, and prayed, and my expiation has not been in vain.

"In the Crystal you know, you will hardly find a trace of the high-spirited girl that Raby loved, nay, that he loves still. Ah, I know it all now; how he seeks for his darling, and makes it his life purpose to find her, and bring her back to peace. I know how even in his intolerable anguish he prayed them to have mercy upon me, and to spare me the awful truth. I have seen his face, that changed blind face of his. I have ministered to him with these hands, I have heard his dear voice, and yet I have not betrayed myself."

"Crystal," sobbed Fern, and indeed she could scarcely speak for her tears, she was so moved by this pitiful story, "if I were you I would go back to-morrow; how can you, how can you leave him, when he needs you so?"

"I go back to him?" repeated the other girl, mournfully. "I who have blighted his life and darkened his days; who have made his existence a long night? I who have robbed him of the glory of his priesthood, and made him what he is, a wreck of his former self?"

"Yes," was the steady answer. "I would go back to him and be his eyes, though his goodness humbled me in the dust. Ah, Crystal, are you worse than she out of whom the Saviour cast seven devils, and who loved much because much had been forgiven her."

"Hush, hush! you do not know, Fern!"

"My darling, I do know," persisted Fern, gently, "and I tell you that it is your duty to go back to Raby, who loves you so. Nay," she continued, as a deep blush rose to Crystal's olive cheek, "he never cared for this Mona--your own words have proved that. Go back to him, and be the light of his eyes, and take his darkness from him, for I see plainly that he will never leave off seeking you, and you only."

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE TALL YOUNG LADY IN BROWN.

Not enjoyment and not sorrow Is our destined end or way; But to act that each to-morrow Finds us further than to-day

In the world's broad field of battle In the bivouac of life Be not like dumb driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife.

LONGFELLOW.

As Fern finished her little speech, Crystal hid her face in her hands, but there was no answer--only the sound of a deep-drawn sob was distinctly audible. A few minutes afterward she raised it, and in the moonlight Fern could see it was streaming with tears.

"Do not say any more," she implored; "do you think my own heart does not tell me all that, but I will not go back yet; the flaming sword of conscience still bars my way to my Paradise. Fern, do you know why I have told you my story? It is because I am going away, and I want you to promise me something, and there is no one else I can ask; no, not your mother," as Fern looked surprised at this, "she has enough to trouble her."

"What is it?" asked Fern, rather timidly.

"I am going away," returned Crystal, "and one never knows what may happen. I am young, but life is uncertain. If I never come back, if anything befalls me, will you with your own hands give this to Raby,"

and as she spoke, she drew from her bosom a thick white envelope sealed and directed, and placed it in Fern's lap. As it lay there Fern could read the inscription: "To be given to the Rev. Raby Ferrers, after my death."

"Oh, Crystal," she exclaimed, with a shiver, "what could happen to you. You are young--not one-and-twenty yet--and your health is good, and--" but Crystal interrupted her with a strange smile.

"Yes, it is true; but the young and the strong have to die sometimes; when the call comes we must go. Do not look so frightened, Fern, I will not die if I can help it; but if it should be so, will you with your own hands give that to Raby; it will tell him what I have suffered, and--and it will comfort him a little."

"Yes, dear, I will do it;" and Fern leaned forward and kissed her softly. The moon was shining brightly now, and in the clear white light Fern noticed for the first time how thin and pale Crystal looked; how her cheek, and even her slight supple figure, had lost their roundness. There were deep hollows in the temples, dark lines under the dark eyes, in spite of her beauty she was fearfully wan. The grief that preyed upon her would soon ravage her good looks. For the first time Fern felt a vague fear oppressing her, but she had no opportunity to say more, for at that moment Crystal rose quickly from her seat.

"You have promised," she said, gratefully; "thank you for that. It is a great trust, Fern, but I know I can rely on you. Now I can talk no more. If your mother comes in, will you tell her about Miss Campion. I think she will be glad for many reasons. Now I will try and sleep, for there is much to be done to-morrow. Good night, my dear;" and the next moment Fern found herself alone in the moonlight.

When Mrs. Trafford returned, she heard the news very quietly.

"It will be better--much better," she said, quickly. "You must not fret about it, my sunbeam. Crystal is beginning to look ill; change and movement will do her good. Our life is very quiet. She has too much time to feed upon herself. She will be obliged to rouse herself among strangers." And when Fern told her tearfully of the promise she had made, Mrs. Trafford only listened with a grave smile.

"Put it away safely, my dear; you will never have to give it, I hope; only it is a relief to the poor child to know you have it. Hers is a strange morbid nature. She is not yet humbled sufficiently. When she is, she will go back, like the Prodigal, and take the forgiveness that is waiting for her. Now, my darling, all this sad talk has made you look pale. You must try and forget it, and go to sleep." But, for the first time in her healthy girlhood, sleep refused to come at Fern's bidding; and she lay restless and anxious, thinking of her friend's tragical story until the gray dawn ushered in the new day.

The little household in Beulah Place were very busy during the next few days. The girls went out shopping together to replenish Crystal's modest wardrobe, and then sat working until nearly midnight to complete the new traveling dress. Fern was putting the final st.i.tches on the last afternoon while Crystal went to bid good-bye to her pupils. The black trunk in the girl's room was already packed, for she was to start early in the morning.

Percy had not yet heard the news; he had been away from town the last week, to Crystal's great relief. She had begged Mrs. Trafford and Fern to say nothing about her movements. He might appear at any moment, and Crystal dreaded a scene if he heard of her approaching departure.

"It will be much better for him not to know until the sea is between us," she had said to Mrs. Trafford. "When he hears I have gone without bidding him good-bye, he will see then that I mean what I say--that my life has nothing to do with his;" and Mrs. Trafford had agreed to this.

It was with a feeling of annoyance and very real discomfort, then, that Crystal caught sight of him as she came down the steps of Upton House. He was walking quickly down the street, and evidently perceived her at once. There would be no chance of escaping him, so she walked slowly on, quite aware that he would overtake her in another minute.

As they were to part so soon, she must put up with his escort. Of course he had been to Beulah Place, and was now in search of her; poor foolish boy!

The next moment she heard his footstep behind her.

"Miss Davenport, this is too delightful," and his handsome face wore a look of pleased eagerness. "I thought I should have to wait some time, from Fern's account, but I have not been here a moment. There is no hurry, is there?" checking her pace as Crystal seemed inclined to walk fast.

"We are busy people, Mr. Trafford," she answered, pleasantly, "and can never afford to walk slowly. Why did you not wait with your sister?

You have not seen her for a long time."

"Has it seemed a long time to you?" he returned, with quick emphasis.

"I wish I could believe that you had missed me, that you had even given me a thought during my absence;" and he looked wistfully at the girl as he spoke.

"I am sure your mother and Fern missed you," she replied, evasively.

She wanted to keep him in good humor, and avoid any dangerous topics.

She would like to leave him, if possible, with some kindly memory of this interview. In spite of his sins against her, she could not altogether harden her heart against Fern's brother.

Any stranger meeting these two young people would have regarded them as a perfectly matched couple. Percy's refined aristocratic face and distinguished carriage made a splendid foil for Crystal's dark beauty and girlish grace. As Percy's eyes rested on her they scarcely noticed the shabby dress she wore. He was thinking as usual that he had never seen any one to compare with this young governess; and he wondered, as he had wondered a hundred times before, if her mother had been an Englishwoman; his mother would never tell him anything about Miss Davenport, except that she was of good birth and an orphan.

"Did you bring Mr. Huntingdon with you?" she asked, rather hurriedly, for she was quite aware of the fixed look that always annoyed her. The admiration of men was odious to her now the only eyes she had cared to please would never look at her again.

"Do you mean Erle?" was the careless answer. "Oh, no, my dearly beloved cousin has other game to bring down;" and here there was a slightly mocking tone in Percy's voice. "He is with _la belle_ Evelyn as usual. I am afraid Erle does not quite hit it as an ardent lover; he is rather half-hearted. He asked me to go down to Victoria Station to meet his visitor, but I declined, with thanks. I had other business on hand, and I do not care to be ordered about; so the carriage must go alone."

"You are expecting visitors at Belgrave House then?" she asked; but there was no interest in her manner. She only wanted to keep conversation to general subjects. She would talk of Belgrave House or of anything he liked if he would only not make love to her. If he only knew how she hated it, and from him of all men.

"Oh, it is not my visitor," was the reply; "it is only some old fogy or other that Erle has picked up at Sandycliffe--Erle has a craze about picking up odd people. Fancy inflicting a blind parson on us, by way of a change."

He was not looking at the girl as he spoke, or he must have seen the startled look on her face. The next moment she had turned her long neck aside.

"Do you mean he is actually blind, and a clergyman? how very strange!"

"Yes; the result of some accident or other. His name is Ferrers. Erle raved about him to my grandfather; but then Erle always raves about people--he is terribly softhearted. He is coming up to London, on some quest or other, no one knows what it is, Erle is so very mysterious about the whole thing."

"Oh, indeed," rather faintly; "and you--you are to meet him, Mr.

Trafford?"

"On the contrary, I am going to do nothing of the kind," he returned, imperturbably. "I told Erle that at 6:30, the time the train was due, I was booked for a pressing engagement. I did not mention the engagement was with my mother, and that I should probably be partaking of a cup of tea; but the fact is true nevertheless."

Crystal did not answer; perhaps she could not. He was coming up to London, actually to Belgrave House, and on this very evening. Erle must have got scent of her secret--how or in what manner she could not guess; but all the same, it must be Erle who had betrayed her. She had thought him a little odd and constrained the last few times she had seen him; she had noticed more than once that his eyes had been fixed thoughtfully on her face as though he had been watching her, and he had seemed somewhat confused when he had found himself detected. What did it all mean; but never mind that now. Raby would be coming to Beulah Place, but she would be hundreds of miles away before that; she was safe, quite safe; but if only she could see him before she went.

If she could only get rid of this tiresome Percy, who would stay, perhaps, for hours. Could she give him the slip? She could never remain in his company through a long evening; it would drive her frantic to listen to him, and to know all the time that Raby was near, and she could not see him. And then all at once a wild idea came to her, and her pale cheeks flushed, and her eyes grew bright, and she began to talk rather quickly and in an excited manner.