Sharing Her Crime: A Novel

by May Agnes Fleming

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  ARCHIE.

  "His youthful form was middle size, For feat of strength or exercise Shaped in proportion fair; And dark-blue was his eagle eye, And auburn of the darkest dye His short and curling hair. Light was his footstep in the dance, And firm his stirrup in the lists, And oh! he had that merry glance That seldom lady's heart resists."--SCOTT.

  Five years passed. And the children, Gipsy and Celeste, we can never seemore; for those five years have changed them into young ladies ofseventeen. Strange to say, neither Louis nor Archie has met Minnette,Gipsy, or Celeste, since the time they parted to go to college: and withall the change that years have made in their appearance, it is doubtfulwhether they would even recognize one another now, if they met.

  The way of it was this: Louis and Archie, after the life and excitementof the city, began to think that Sunset Hall was an insufferably dullplace; and with the usual fickleness of youth, instead of going home tospend their vacation, invariably went with some of their school-fellows.This troubled the old squire very little; for without Gipsy, in thequiet of Sunset Hall, he was falling into a state of stupid apathy, andgave Master Louis _carte blanche_ to go where he pleased. Lizzie was tooindolent to trouble herself much about it, and as she generally went ona visit to New York every winter, she contented herself with seeing herson and heir then, and knowing he was well. As for Gipsy and Celeste,their faithless boy-lovers seemed to have quite outgrown their earlyaffection for them.

  Then, when the time came for them to graduate, and make choice of aprofession, Squire Erliston found that young Mr. Oranmore would neitherbe doctor, lawyer, nor clergyman; nor even accept a post in the army ornavy.

  "Why not," said the squire, during an interview he had with him; "what'syour objection?"

  "Why, my dear grandfather," replied Louis, "you should have too muchregard for your suffering fellow-mortals to make a doctor of me. As forbeing a lawyer, I haven't rascality enough for that _yet_; and I've toomuch respect for the church to take holy orders. Neither does the campnor forecastle agree with me. I have no particular love for forcedmarches or wholesale slaughter; nor do I care over much for stalebiscuit, bilge-water, and the cat-o'-nine-tails; so I must e'en declineall."

  "Then what in the name of Heaven _will_ you be?" exclaimed the squire.

  "An artist, sir; an artist. Heaven has destined me for a painter. I feelsomething within me that tells me I will yet win fame and renown. Let mego to Europe--to Germany and Italy, and study the works of the gloriousold masters, and I will yet win a name you will not blush to hear."

  "Glorious old fiddlesticks! Go, if you like, but I never expected tofind a grandson of mine such a fool! The heir of Mount Sunset and itsbroad lands, the heir of Oranmore Hall, and old Mother Oranmore's yellowguineas, can do as he pleases, of course. Go and waste your time daubingcanvas if you will, I'll be hanged if _I_ care!"

  Therefore, six months before the return of the girls from school, Louis,accompanied by a friend, sailed for Europe without seeing them.

  "And you, sir," said the squire, turning to Archie; "are _you_ going tobe a fool and turn painter, too?"

  "No, sir," replied Master Archie; "I'm not going to be a fool, but I'mgoing to be something worse--a knave; in other words, a lawyer. As forpainting, thank fortune, I've no more talent for it than I have forturning milliner, beyond painting my face when acting charades."

  So Archie went to Washington, and began studying for the bar.

  Gipsy, who was a universal favorite in school, began, for the last fewyears, to copy the example of the boys, and spend her vacations with herfriends. Minnette and Celeste always returned home; for Minnette, cold,and reserved, and proud, was disliked and feared by all; and thoughCeleste was beloved by everybody, duty and affection forbade her toleave Miss Hagar for her own pleasure.

  Our madcap friend, Gipsy, had lost none of her wicked normischief-loving propensities during those years. Such a pest and aplague as she was in the school, driving teachers and pupils to theirwits' end with her mad pranks, and yet liked so well. There was usuallya downright quarrel, about the time of the holidays, to see who wouldpossess her; and Gipsy, after looking on and enjoying the fun, would, tothe surprise and chagrin of all, go with some one who least hoped forthe honor.

  Gipsy was spending the winter with a school-friend, Jennie Moore, atWashington. The three girls, whose united fortunes are the subject ofthis history, had graduated; Minnette, with the highest honors theschool could give; Celeste, with fewer laurels, but with far more love;and Gipsy--alas, that I should have to say it!--most wofully behindall. The restless elf _would_ not study--was _always_ at the foot of herclass, and only laughed at the grave lectures of the teachers; andyawned horribly over the rules of syntax, and the trying names in herbotany. So poor Gipsy left little better than when she entered.

  * * * * *

  The folding-doors of Mr. Moore's spacious drawing-room were thrown open,blazing with light and radiant with brilliantly-dressed ladies. MissJennie had resolved that the first ball should surpass anything that hadtaken place that winter. All the _elite_ of the city, wealth, beauty,fashion, gallantry, and talent, were mingled in gay confusion. Therewere soft rustling of silks, and waving of perfumed handkerchiefs, andflirting of fans, and flirting of _belles_; and bright ladies castkilling glances from their brilliant eyes; and gentlemen bowed andsmiled, and paid compliments, and talked all sorts of nonsense, and

  "All went merry as a marriage bell."

  Near the upper end of the room the belle, _par excellence_, seemed tobe; for in her train flowed all that were wittiest, and gayest, andloveliest there. Whenever _she_ moved, a throng of admirers followed;and where the laughter was loudest, the mirth highest, the crowdgreatest, there might you find the center of attraction, this belle ofwhom I am speaking.

  And yet she was not beautiful; at least, not beautiful when comparedwith many there who were neglected for her. She is floating now in a gaywaltz round the room with a distinguished foreigner, and "I will painther as I see her."

  A small, slight, straight, lithe figure, airy and bird-like in itsmotions, skimming over the floor without seeming to touch it; never atrest; but quick, sudden, abrupt, and startling in all its motions, yetevery motion instinct, glowing with life. A dark, bright, laughinglittle face, that no one knows whether it is handsome or not, it is soradiant, so bewitching, so sparkling, so full of overflowing mirth andmischief. Short, crisp black curls, adorning the sauciest little head inthe world; wicked brown eyes, fairly _twinkling_ with wickedness; a rosylittle mouth, that seemed always laughing to display the little pearlyteeth. Such was the star of the evening. Reader, do you recognize her?

  As she seated herself after the dance, tired and a little fatigued,Jennie Moore, a pretty, graceful girl, came up to her, saying, in a lowvoice:

  "Oh, Gipsy, I have a stranger to introduce to you--a most_distinguished_ one. One of the cleverest and most talented younglawyers in Washington."

  "Distinguished! Now, I'm tired to death of 'distinguished' people;they're all a set of bores--ugly as sin and pedantic as schoolmasters.Don't stare--it's a fact!"

  "Oh, but Mr. Rivers is not; he is young, handsome, agreeable, witty, aregular lady-killer, and worth nobody knows how much."

  "Mr.--worth what?" exclaimed Gipsy, springing to her feet so impulsivelythat her friend started back.

  "Why, what's the matter?" said Jennie in surprise.

  "Nothing! nothing!" said Gipsy, hastily. "_Who_ did you say it was?"

  "Mr. Archibald Rivers, student-at-law."

  "Jennie, they say I've changed greatly of late. Do you think I lookanything like I did when you first saw me?"

  "Why, not much. You were a tawny little fright then; you're _almost_handsome now," said the candid Jennie.

  "Then he won't know me. Jennie, will you oblige by introducing Mr.Rivers to me under an assumed name?"

  "Why----"

  "Ther
e! there! don't ask questions; I'll tell by and by. Go and do it."

  "Well, you have always some new crotchet in your crotchety little head,"said Jennie, as she started to obey.

  In a few moments she reappeared, leaning on the arm of the"distinguished" Mr. Rivers. Our Archie has not changed as much as Gipsyhas done during these years, save that he has grown taller and moremanly-looking. He has still his frank, handsome, boyish face; his merryblue eye and boisterous manner, a _little_ subdued.

  The indistinct tone in which Miss Moore introduced him prevented himfrom catching the name, but he scarcely observed; and seeing in theyoung lady, whose lips were now pursed up and whose eyes were castmodestly on the floor, a shrinking, bashful girl, he charitably began todraw her out.

  "There is quite an assembly here this evening," was his original remark,by way of encouraging her.

  "Yes, sir," was the reply, in a tone slightly tremulous, which _he_ascribed to maiden bashfulness.

  "What a delightful young lady your friend, Miss Moore, is," continuedArchie.

  "Yes, sir."

  "There are a great many beautiful ladies in the room."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Confound her!" muttered Archie, "can she say nothing but '_Yes, sir_?'But the most beautiful lady present is by my side," he continued, aloud,to see how she would swallow so palpable a dose of flattery.

  "_Yes, sir!_"

  "Whew! if that's not cool! I wonder if the girl's an idiot!" thoughtMaster Archie. Then, aloud: "Do you know you're very beautiful?"

  "Yes. I know it."

  A stare of surprise followed this answer. Then he continued:

  "You are a most bewitching young lady! Never was so much charmed byanybody in my life!"

  "Sorry I can't return the compliment."

  "Hallo!" thought Archie, rather taken aback. "She's not such a fool as Itook her to be. What do you think of that lady!" he added, pointing to ahandsome but dark-complexioned girl, whom report said would one day beMrs Rivers.

  "Oh! I don't think her pretty at all--she's such a _gipsy_."

  Archie gave a little start at the name. Poor Gipsy! he had quiteforgotten her of late.

  "Do you know," he said, "I once had a little friend called Gipsy? Yourwords recalled her to my memory. You remind me of her, somehow, only youare handsomer. She was dark and ugly."

  "Indeed! Did you like her?"

  "Ye-e-e-s--a little," said Archie, hesitatingly; "she was a half-crazylittle thing--black as a squaw, and I don't think I was very fond of_her_, but she was _very_ fond of me."

  "Indeed, sir!" said the young lady, a momentary flash gleaming from herdark eyes; "she must have been a bold girl, rather, to let you knowit."

  "She was bold--the boldest girl ever I knew, with nothing gentle andwomanly about her whatever."

  "What did you say her name was?"

  "Gipsy--Gipsy Gower. You seem interested in her."

  "I am, sir--I know her."

  "_You do?_" cried Archie, aghast.

  "Yes, sir; but I like her no more than you do. She was a rough, uncouthsavage, detested by every one who knew her. I had the misfortune to beher room-mate in school, and she used to bore me dreadfully talkingabout her gawky country friends, particularly some one whom she called_Archie_."

  "Yes? What used she to say about him? She liked him, didn't she?" saidArchie, eagerly.

  "Why, _no_; I should say not. She used to say he was a regularfool--always laughing. She said she never knew such a greeny in all herlife."

  Mr. Rivers suddenly wilted down, and hadn't a word to say. Just at thatmoment a party of Gipsy's friends came along, and it was:

  "Oh, Gipsy! Gipsy! Oh, Miss Gower! we've been searching all over foryou. Everybody's dying of the blues, because you are absent. Do comewith us!"

  Archie leaped from his seat as though he had received a bayonet thrust.Gipsy rose, saying, in a low, sarcastic voice, as she passed him:

  "Remember me to Gipsy when you see her. Tell her what I said aboutArchie," and she was gone.

  During the remainder of the evening the "distinguished" Mr. Riverslooked about as crestfallen as a young lawyer possessed of a large stockof native impudence could well do. There he stood and watched Gipsy, whohad never been so magnetic, so bewitching, so entrancing in her lifebefore. Never by chance did she look at him; but there was scarcelyanother masculine head in the room she had not turned.

  "Confound the little witch!" muttered Master Archie, "no wonder shecalled me a fool! But who the deuce would ever think of finding littleGipsy Gower in one of the belles of Washington? Had it been Celeste,now, I should not have felt surprised. And who would ever think thatyonder dazzling, brilliant, magnetic girl was the little shy maiden who,ten minutes ago, sat beside me with her demure '_yes, sir_!' Well, sheseems to be enjoying herself anyway. So, Miss Gipsy, I'll follow yourexample and do the same."

  For the remainder of the evening Archie threw himself into the gaythrong with the evident determination of enjoying himself or dying inthe attempt. And more than one fair cheek flushed, and more than onepair of bright eyes grew brighter, as their owner listened with downcastlashes and smiling lips to the gallant words of the handsome younglawyer. He was, if not _the_ handsomest, at least _one_ of thehandsomest, men in the room; and

  "Oh! he had that merry glance, That seldom lady's heart resists."

  And eclipsed belles raised their graceful heads in triumph to find thebewildering Gipsy had no power over him. But if they had known all, theywould have found that those "merry glances" were not for them, but topique the jealousy of the evening star.

  Ere the company dispersed he sought out Gipsy, who withdrawing herselffrom the revelers, stood, silent and alone, by the window.

  "Gipsy!" he said, gently.

  "Mr. Rivers!" she said, drawing herself up.

  "Forgive me, Gipsy, for what I said."

  "I have nothing to forgive! I rather think we are quits!" replied Gipsy,coolly.

  "Well, make up friends with me, and be a little like the Gipsy I used toknow."

  "What! like that black little squaw--that bold, ugly, half-crazy thing?You astonish me, Mr. Rivers!"

  "Yes, even so, Gipsy; you know it's all true; and I'll be the same'regular fool, always laughing.' Then shake hands and call me Archie, asyou used to."

  "Well, now, I don't know," said Gipsy--"I don't _think_ I ought toforgive you."

  "Don't think about it, then. Nonsense, Gipsy--you know you're to be mylittle wife!"

  She laughed and extended her hand, though her dark cheek grew crimson.

  "Well, there, I forgive you, Archie. Will that do? And now let us gointo the supper-room, for I'm starving. One of my early habits I havenot outgrown--and that is, a most alarming appetite."

  "Now I shall have her all to myself for the rest of the evening,"thought Archie, as he stood beside her, and watched triumphantly themany savage and ferocious glances cast toward him by the gentlemen.

  But Archie found himself slightly mistaken; for Gipsy, five minuteslater, told him to be off--that he was an old bore, and not half asagreeable as the most stupid of her beaus. Then laughing at hismortified face, she danced and flirted unmercifully, leaving Mr. Riversto think she was the most capricious elf that ever tormented a younglawyer.

  Every day for a week after he was a constant visitor at Mr. Moore's. Andevery day for a week he went away as he came, without seeing Gipsy. Shewas always out riding, or driving, or "not at home," though he could seeher plainly laughing at him at the window. The willful fairy seemed totake a malicious delight in teasing the life out of poor Archie. Eveningafter evening she accepted the escort of a handsome young Englishbaronet, Sir George Stuart, the most devoted of all her lovers--leavingArchie to bear it as he pleased. And between jealousy, and rage, andmortification, and wounded pride, Mr. Rivers had a hard time of it. It_was_ too bad to see his own little Gipsy--his girlish lady-love--takenfrom him this way without being able to say a word against it.

  So Archie fell a prey to
"green and yellow melancholy," and never sawthe stately young nobleman without feeling a demoniacal desire to blowhis brains out; and nothing prevented him from doing it but the becomingrespect he had for the laws of his country.

  One morning, however, for a wonder, he had the good fortune to findGipsy alone in the parlor, looking perfectly charming in her becoming_deshabille_.

  "How did you enjoy yourself last night at Mrs. Greer's ball? I saw youthere with that fool of a baronet," said Archie, rather savagely.

  "I enjoyed myself very well, as I always do. And I must beg of you notto speak of Sir George in that way, Mr. Rivers. I won't allow it."

  "Oh, you won't!" sneered Archie. "You seem to think a great deal of him,Miss Gower."

  "Why, _of course I do_! He's _so_ handsome--so perfectlygentlemanlike--so agreeable, and so--everything else. He's a real loveof a man."

  "Oh! the deuce take him!"

  "Why, Mr. Rivers!" said Gipsy, with a very shocked expression ofcountenance.

  "Gipsy, be serious for once. I have had something to say to you thislong time, but you have been so precious careful to keep out of mysight, I've had no chance to say it. Gipsy, do you _love_ Sir GeorgeStuart?"

  "Why, Archie! _to be sure_ I do."

  "Oh-h-h!" groaned Archie.

  "What's the matter?--got the toothache?"

  "Oh, dear, no. I have the heart-ache!"

  "Sorry to hear it. Better go to Deep Dale and consult Doctor Spiderabout it."

  "Will you come with me?"

  "I've no objection. I'm going home to-morrow, and I'd just as lief haveyou for an escort as any one else."

  "Then you are not going to be married to Sir George Stuart, Gipsy?"exclaimed Archie, eagerly.

  "Why, not just now, I think."

  "Gipsy, would you marry me?"

  "Well, I wouldn't mind, if nobody better offers."

  "Oh, Gipsy! be serious; don't laugh at me now. You know you promised,when a little girl, to be my little wife. Will you, _dear_ Gipsy?"

  "There--gracious me! you're treading on Sambo's toes."

  A howl from an unfortunate black pug dog testified to the truth of thisremark.

  "Men are such awkward creatures! Poor Sambo! did he hurt you?" saidGipsy, stooping and caressing the ugly little brute.

  "Oh, saints and angels! only hear her. She will drive me mad--I know shewill. Here I offer her my heart, and hand, and fortune (though I don'thappen to have such a thing about me), and she begins talking aboutSambo's toes. That girl will be the death of me. And when I die I'llcharge them to place on my tombstone, 'Died from an overdose of acoquette.'"

  And Master Archie stamped up and down, and flung his coat-tails aboutwith an utterly distracted expression of countenance.

  "Why, what nonsense are you going on with there?" inquired Gipsy,pausing in her task of comforting Sambo, and looking at him in surprise.

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed Archie, pausing before her, and throwing himselfinto a tragic attitude. "Infatuated girl! the heart you now cast fromyou will haunt you in the dead hours of the night, when everything (butthe mosquitoes) is sleeping; it will be ever before you in your Englishhome, when you are the bride of Sir George (confound him!) Stuart; itwill----"

  But Master Archie could proceed no further; for Gipsy fell back in herchair, fairly screaming with laughter. Archie made a desperate effort tomaintain his gravity, but the effort proved a failure, and he was forcedto join Gipsy in an uproarious peal.

  "Oh, dear!" said Gipsy, wiping her eyes, "I don't know when I havelaughed so much."

  "Yes," said Archie, in high dudgeon--"pretty thing to laugh at, too!After breaking my heart, to begin grinning about it. Humph!"

  "You looked so funny--you looked----"

  Gipsy's voice was lost in another fit of laughter.

  "Come, now, Gipsy, like a good girl, don't laugh any more; but tell me,_will_ you marry me--will you be my wife?"

  "Why, yes, you dear old goose, you! I never intended to be anythingelse. You might have known that I'd be your wife, without making such afuss about it," said Gipsy.

  "And Sir George, Gipsy?"

  "Oh, poor fellow, I gave him his _coup de conge_ last night, and he setout for England this morning."

  "Oh, Gipsy, my dear, you're a pearl without price!" exclaimed Archie, ina rapture.

  "Glad to hear it, I'm sure. And now _do_ go away, Archie, and don'tbother me any longer; for I must pack up my things and start for hometo-morrow."

  "You little tyrant! Well, I am to accompany you, mind."

  "Just as you please--only _do_ leave me."

  "Little termagant! Accept this ring as a betrothal gift."

  "Well, there--put it on, and for goodness' sake clear out."

  With a glance of comical despair, Mr. Rivers took his hat and quittedthe house.