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Page 29
"My own opinion is that his desire does not run in your direction,"
continues Arthur remorselessly. "We both know where his heart would
gladly find its home, where he would seek a bride to place here in this
grand old castle, but I will frustrate that hope if I die for it."
He grinds his teeth as he says this, and looks with fierce defiant eyes
at the long rows of his ancestors that line the walls.
"She would gladly see her proud fair face looking down upon me from
amidst this goodly company," he goes on, apostrophizing the absent
Florence. "But that shall never be. I have sworn it; unless--I am her
husband--unless--I am her husband!"
More slowly, more thoughtfully he repeats this last phrase, until Dora,
affrighted by the sudden change that has disfigured his face, speaks to
him to distract his attention.
"You have brought me here to--" she ventures timidly.
"Ay, to tell you what is on my mind. I have said you want to marry
Adrian; I mean to marry Florence Delmaine. To-day I disliked certain
symptoms I saw, that led me to believe that my own machinations have not
been as successful as I could have wished. Before going in for stronger
measures, there is one more card that I will play. I have written you a
note. Here it is, take it"--handing her a letter folded in the
cocked-hat fashion.
"What am I to do with this?" asks Dora nervously.
"Read it. It is addressed to yourself. You will see I have copied
Adrian's handwriting as closely as possible, and have put his initials
A.D. at the end. And yet"--with a diabolical smile--"it is no forgery
either, as A.D. are my initials also."
Opening the note with trembling fingers, Dora reads aloud as follows:
"Can you--will you meet me to-morrow at four o'clock in the lime-walk?
I have been cold to you perhaps, but have I not had cause? You think my
slight attentions to another betoken a decrease in my love for you, but
in this, dearest, you are mistaken. I am yours heart and soul. For the
present I dare not declare myself, for the reasons you already know, and
for the same reasons am bound to keep up a seeming friendliness with
some I would gladly break with altogether. But I am happy only with you,
and happy too in the thought that our hearts beat as one. Yours
forever, A.D."
Dora, having finished reading the letter, glances at him uneasily.
"And--what is the meaning of this letter? What is it written for? What
am I to do with it?" she stammers, beating the precious missive against
the palm of her hand, as though in loathing of it.
"You will show it to her. You will speak of it as a love-letter written
to you by Adrian. You will consult her as to whether it be wise or
prudent to accede to his proposal to meet you alone in the lime-walk.
You will, in fact, put out all your powers of deception, which"--with a
sneering smile--"are great, and so compel her to believe the letter is
from him to you."
"But--" falters Dora.
"There shall be no 'but' in the matter. You have entered into this
affair with me, and you shall pursue it to the end. If you fail me, I
shall betray your share in it--more than your share--and paint you in
such colors as will shut the doors of society to you. You understand
now, do you?"
"Go on," says Dora, with colorless lips.
"Ah, I have touched the right chord at last, have I? Society, your idol,
you dare not brave! Well, to continue, you will also tell her, in your
own sweet innocent way"--with another sneer that makes her quiver with
fear and rage--"to account for Adrian's decided and almost lover-like
attentions to her in the room we visited, that you had had a lovers'
quarrel with him some time before, earlier in the day; that, in his fit
of pique, he had sought to be revenged upon you, and soothe his slighted
feelings by feigning a sudden interest in her. You follow me?"
"Yes," replies the submissive Dora. Alas, how sincerely she now wishes
she had never entered into this hateful intrigue!
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