OCR Text |
Show (continued from article above) Carl Egerton is here, and I invited Marian Hentz. She is in the music room." "How very awkward! Do you suppose he will mind?" "I never spoke about it to him!" Then they passed on, leaving me to wonder who Marian Hentz might be, and why it was awkward for me to meet her. I sauntered into the music room. At the piano, singing as I never heard an amateur sing, was a girl of about nineteen, with the rarest, most perfect brunette beauty, the combination of black hair and eyes, with the dazzling, fair complexion. Her rich, cultivated voice rang out in a ballad, the very simplicity of rendering being a triumph of art. "Who is she?" I whispered to a pretty blonde beside me. "A music teacher Mrs. Crawford is interested in," was the half contemptuous answer; and then a rush of crimson dyed the girl's face as she said, "It is Marian Hentz, Mr. Egerton. But I suppose you must meet her sometime." It was no place to seek an explanation, and I was presented to Miss Hentz, who was coldly, very coldly civil to me. For two weeks I met her constantly, and was baffled by her exceeding coldness, while learning to admire her as I had never admired any woman before. Her beauty was a delight to an artist, her voice won my heart, and in spite of her evident dislike for my society, I loved her. It was a fresh, young love, ???, although I had admired others before. My life had been too hard a struggle for necessities to indulge in love dreams, and when I gave my heart to Marian Hentz, I gave it free, loyal and untried. But I made no progress, though the spring day came and the summer bloomed, and I haunted her. We had all been invited to Beechwood, Mrs. Crawford's country seat, for a summer visit, when one evening, just before she left the city, I went to call upon my old friend. She was in the library, and as I crossed a long room, heavily carpeted, to the door, I heard a voice too dearly familiar, say:- "I cannot go! So you not understand how painful it is for me to meet Carl Egerton?" "But, my dear child," my old friend said, "if he loves you, and I am sure he does-" "Hush!" Marian answered, quickly, "it never could be!" "Not if-- I might be your grandmother, my child-- not if you loved him?" A quick sob answered this, but in a moment she said hastily,- "I do love him! There, you have forced it from me! But it can never be -- never!" I heard her leave the room by another door, and go up stairs, sobbing as she went. And I did not wait for ceremony, but went to Mrs. Crawford, asking abruptly: -- "Why can it never be?" "Were you there, Carl?" she asked. "Yes, coming to beg you to plead my cause with Marian Hentz. What is the mystery about her?" "Is it possible you do not know?" "I never heard of her until I met her here." Sit here beside me Carl. I have blamed you that you did not take any action in the matter. But if you are ignorant of her claim upon you -" "Claim upon me!" I cried. "Well, upon your property. What wide open eyes! You are surely ignorant and innocent! Listen, then. Your grandmother and Marian's grandmother were first cousins, and warmly attached to each other. When you, as a boy, refused to be adopted by your grandmother, Marian's mother was dying. Her father had been some years dead, and the child was destitute. Mrs. Egerton took her. She brought her up as she would have done her own daughter, lavishing upon her all that wealth can command, both for education and pleasure. She was never formally introduced to society, for Mrs. Egerton took her everywhere with her while she was but a mere child. It was the general impression, Carl, that your grandmother would leave her property to Marian, but she had the too common superstition that making a will shortened the life. She put it off, year after year, until she was actually dying. Then she had a will drawn, leaving everything to Marian, and died while the lawyer was engaged upon the draft, leaving Marian penniless." "Why was I never told this?" I cried. "What a brute I have been! Does she think I knew?" "I cannot tell. It was a delicate subject, and, I presume, your friends were, like myself, naturally reluctant to speak of it. But now?" "I shall, of course, settle upon her-" "It is too late for that, Carl. You could not now confer fortune upon Marian -- except in one way." "But if she will not hear me?" "Was I right in my confecture, Carl? Do you love her?" "With all my heart!" "Wait here, then." I waited long in an agony of suspense. Well, I realized that it was indeed too late for me to rectify my grandmother's delay, that only as my wife could I bestow fortune upon Marian. Would Mrs. Crawford succeed in her friendly offices? Would she never come to tell me how Marian had received her? Would the barrier of pride my darling had raised to hide her love melt before her old friend's pleading? I was growing more than impatient when Mrs. Crawford returned and said to me "Marian is in the sitting room. Will you go to her?" Would I enter Paradise if the gates stood open? I kissed my old friend's hand and hurried away. I will not tell all that passed. My darling forgave my unconscious cruelty, and when the autumn leaves were falling there was a wedding at Mrs. Crawford's that settled finally the vexed question of who should rightfully have inherited my grandmother's money. Both heir-at-law and the heiress who might have reigned were satisfied. |