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Page 44
Castrani's hard face softened a little, as he witnessed the utter
abandonment of the proud man before him.
"You may well ask God to forgive you," he said. "You deserve the depths
of perdition for harboring in your heart a thought against the purity of
that woman. Archer Trevlyn, had she loved me as she did you, I would have
cut off my right hand before I would have entertained a suspicion of sin
in her! It is true, she went North on the same train as I did, but I did
not know it until the journey was ended. Previous to that time, I had not
seen her for more than a fortnight, and I did not know that she was near
me, until in Boston my attention was attracted by a crowd of 'roughs,'
gathered around a lady and a greyhound. The lady had lost her
_porte-monnaie_, and the crowd made some insulting remarks which I took
the liberty of resenting, and when I saw the lady's face, to my amazement
I recognized Margaret Harrison!"
"And you protected her? You gave her money and took her to a place of
safety?" said Trevlyn, anxiously.
"Of course. As I should have done by any other lady--but more especially
for her. I took her to a hotel, and on the morrow saw her start on her
journey. I would have gone on with her, but she declined my escort."
"O, I thank you--I thank you, so much! I shall be your friend always, for
that. You will tell me where she is?"
"No. I cannot."
"Cannot. Does that imply that you will not?"
"It does."
"Then you know her present place of sojourn?"
"I do. But she does not desire the knowledge to become general. I have
pledged my word to her not to reveal it. Neither is it best for you to
know."
"You are right. It is not. I might be unable to hinder myself from
seeking her. And that could do no good. I know that she is innocent. That
shall suffice me. Only tell me she is well, and agreeably situated."
"She is both. More, I think she is at peace. She is with those who love
her."
"I thank you for bearing with me. I shall be happier for knowing she was
not false to me. Whatever might have caused her to break the engagement,
it was not because she loved another. Good-by, Mr. Castrani."
He wrung the hand of the Cuban warmly, and departed.
* * * * *
It was an afternoon in May. Everything without was smiling and at rest,
but Mrs. Trevlyn was cross and out of humor. Perhaps any lady will say
that she had sufficient reason. Everything had gone wrong. The cook was
sick, and the dinner a failure; her dressmaker had disappointed her in
not finishing her dress for the great ball at Mrs. Fitz Noodle's, that
evening; and Annie, her maid, was down with one of her nervous headaches,
and she would be obliged to send for a hair-dresser.
Louis Castrani was a guest in the house, by Archer's invitation--for
the two gentlemen had become friends, warmly and deeply attached to each
other, and Mrs. Trevlyn could not help fretting over the unfortunate
condition of her _cuisine_.
She was looking very cross, as she sat in the back parlor, adjoining the
tasteful little morning-room, where she spent most of her time, and where
the gentlemen were in the habit of taking their books and newspapers when
they desired it quiet. If she had known that Mr. Castrani was at that
moment lying on the lounge in the morning-room, the door of which was
slightly ajar, she might have dismissed that unbecoming frown, and put
her troubles aside. Mr. Trevlyn entered, just as she had for the
twentieth time that day arrived at the conclusion that she was the most
sorely afflicted woman in the world, and his first words did not tend to
give her any consolation.
"I am very sorry, Mrs. Trevlyn, that I am to be deprived of the privilege
of attending the ball to-night. It is particularly annoying."
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