Zula Part 24

Already the voice of slander was wafted on the winds, and Scott felt that he could bear anything better than disgrace; and should that ever come to his home, his worst heartache would be for his mother and sister. June was as true as steel, and his mother, even though she had been led into a foolish vanity, had the highest regard for virtue.

Scott had noticed that Rene did not act as prudent as she should, and he had carefully watched her movements, hoping that his fears were groundless. He had at one time watched his opportunity, and disguising himself, saw Max and Irene leave the opera together, and following closely, caught a portion of their conversation. They had turned on a dimly lighted street, and no doubt, thought they were quite un.o.bserved. Scott's first impulse was to rush up and confront the guilty pair, as any other less calculating than he would have done, but after a moment's reflection decided to follow quietly.

"No," Irene was saying in answer to some question Max had asked. "No, I shall always love you, but I must be miserable as long as I live. I love you better than any one in all the world, but we can only be friends."

"But, my darling, my beautiful angel," he said. "I cannot live without you, and your husband does not care for you as I do; and if you will only tell him what a mistake you have made, he will be satisfied."

"Oh, I wish he knew, but I cannot tell him."

"There are other ways without having an unpleasant interview."

Scott did not hear Irene's reply, but he had heard enough to blight the very life of a heart less brave than his, and possessing a love as strong as his own, and when they turned the next corner he hurried to his own room to decide what was best for him to do in the matter. He had taken a shorter route home, and when Irene entered he was sitting quietly by his own fireside.

He had looked the matter over, and after careful study decided to leave the home of his youth and look for happiness elsewhere. His father had now been dead six months, and by promising his mother that his remains should be removed, she consented to make the change. June shed many a tear at the thought of leaving her old home, but she never opposed the arrangement, thinking that Scott might be happier elsewhere. She had observed that he was far from happy, although he had never spoken one word to her in a disparaging way of his wife, but she knew he was aware of Rene's vanity. She had often thought she would tell him what she knew, but a fear of making him more unhappy restrained her; and thus the days pa.s.sed by, and the dark gulf between the husband and the one who should have been his greatest comfort was each day growing broader and deeper, and its waters more bitter, until they seemed at times to throw high their huge waves and carry him down to despair. But his brave manhood would a.s.sert its power, and, rising above the waves of grief and shame that surged about him, Scott Wilmer stood firmly upon the rock of his lofty aspirations, and by the strength of his mighty will emerged with a new purity of heart and purpose. He firmly resolved that when they were settled in their new home he would seek an interview with his wife, and perhaps when she was away from her present surroundings, and he had reasoned with her, she might forget her foolish infatuation.

They grew more and more like strangers. Perhaps, he thought, it might be in a measure some fault of his own, and if there could be a way to rebuild their lost happiness, he would do all in his power to make amends for the past. His love, and he feared his respect also, was growing less, but he would be true to her as long as she lived. He would screen her as long as she gave him the right. When he imparted to her his intention to seek another home she made no reply. She really did not know whether she was glad or sorry. In one way she was delighted--she would find a place where there would be a greater amount of gaiety, but she would be so sorry to leave Max. So studying between the two conditions, she received the news indifferently.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE INTERVIEW.

It was the first of December that the old home pa.s.sed into the hands of strangers, and the Wilmer family took up their abode in a fashionable part of the city of New York. The air of refinement which they carried with them, and the fact of their being wealthy, soon drew around them a large circle of friends, and among them Irene shone a bright star in the world of fashion. Guy Horton was there, established in an extensive publishing business, and he and Scott were soon fast friends. The longer Scott knew Guy the better opinion he formed of his character. Aside from a slight show of egotism, he thought Guy almost faultless. Irene had remarked to June that she would be glad when the year was up, that she could leave off that horrid black. "For," said she, "you look lovely in black, but I am a fright. I am glad that Scott never notices how I look, any way."

It was very true that the horrid black, as Irene termed it, was for some reason much more becoming to June than to herself. The sombre robes gave a still more lovely glow to June's pearly complexion and sunny hair, but Irene looked much older in black.

It was now the first of February. Scott had asked his wife to meet him in his study. They had grown to be such strangers that formality seemed hardly out of place between them. She came with a reluctant step, like a guilty child who is looking for a chastis.e.m.e.nt, and with a cool bow took the chair which he very politely offered her, sitting where the light fell dimly on her face.

"I have requested your presence here that we might speak on a very painful subject."

She settled back in the soft cushions, but did not speak.

"I beg you will listen, and answer me truthfully."

The crimson blood mounted to her face, but she dare not raise her eyes and look in Scott's face.

"I have not requested this interview to upbraid you," he continued, "but merely to learn your intentions. It may save you a great deal of surmising for me to state to you that I am acquainted with the fact that you care more for another than you do for me, and G.o.d knows that I am sorry that you have learned it too late."

She started to her feet, but he gently reseated her.

"Be quiet," he said in a firm voice. "I have no desire to intimidate you, or to make you feel unhappy. I only wish to ask you if the life we are living is to continue?"

His hazel eyes seemed to pierce her very soul. She did not speak, and he continued:

"It has become a burden to me, and rather than that it should continue I would prefer death."

She stole a glance at his face. The keen, penetrating look in his eyes had given place to one of extreme sadness, and almost any heart would have been moved to remorse, but between her face and his own there came another whose beauty blotted out every other object, and made her forget for the time that she was a wife, and forget, too, the vast importance of the answer she should make.

"I am willing, Irene, to forgive, and as far as in my power lies, to forget, and take you back to my heart, if you can say that you come with a determination to live for your own and my happiness, but never must that bold villain who holds such an influence over you cross my threshold. Will you consent?"

Again the handsome face arose before her, sealing her lips to that which should in justice, have been said.

"Irene, I warn you now. Remember what you are doing. I am sorry for you, but the die is cast, and there is but one thing in all the world to do, and thereby protect your honor; do you know what it is?"

"I suppose it is to spend my days with a man who has not one thought in common with my own; to live with a man I never can love, and who does not love me."

Scott arose with compressed lips and pale face. His arms were folded across his manly breast, a favorite att.i.tude with him when laboring under any excitement.

"No, it is not. The house is at your disposal, just as ever. If you have found you have made so great a mistake, keep the society of your lady friends, and I will not trouble you, but for the sake of yourself, for the sake of my mother and sister, if not for me, do nothing to disgrace us."

"You have no heart, Scott Wilmer," she said, bursting into a flood of angry tears, "and the best thing we can do is to live apart."

"One moment, Irene," Scott said as she started to leave the room, but she heeded not his words, and closing the door with a crash, she went to her room and penned the following lines:

"DEAREST: The end has come at last. Come to me at once and we will make arrangements for our departure. Your own,

R."

Two days later she was busy packing her clothing. Very cautiously she worked, being careful not to come in contact with her husband.

June was all taken up with her harp lessons, learning, she knew, just because that important Guy Horton liked the music of it.

At the end of the third day, as Paul was pa.s.sing her room, Irene called him in. Paul wondered that she should do him such an honor, and still more surprised was he when she asked him to do her a favor, to which Paul answered that he would if he could.

"I know you can," she said, putting on one of her most bewitching smiles.

Paul did not readily accept flattery, and he supposed that Irene was about to ask a favor that she could not obtain in any other way, but he waited as patiently and accepted the terms as politely as though she were a queen.

"Paul," she said, "I am going away for a time, and I wish to ask you to attend to a little matter of business for me. I am expecting a letter from papa which will contain a check. Please cash it and send it by express. Here is the order. I will let you know later where to send it."

"I would rather you would leave the business with your husband. I think he is the proper one."

"No," she said abruptly, "I wish you to do the favor for me. Can't I trust you to do a small favor?"

"Certainly you can," said Paul, a new idea entering his head.

"And will you?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I shall never be able to thank you enough. There, let me pay you for your trouble; take this money."

"No, I shall not accept a penny. I am not in need of money."

"You will attend to the business for me, though?"