CHAPTER XXIX.
A STARTLING EPISODE.
Claire Keith had said truly that the woman across the way would proveinteresting to her.
She grew more and more fond of watching for the tall form, with itstrailing robes of black, its proudly-poised, heavily-veiled head, andslow, graceful movement. Sometimes she saw a white hand pull away theheavy curtains, and knew that the owner of the hand was looking outupon the street. But the face was always in shadow. She could notcatch the slightest glimpse of it.
"She has strong reasons for not wishing to be seen and recognized; Iwonder what they are?" Claire would soliloquize at such times.
Then she would chide herself for being so curious. But the fits ofwondering grew stronger, until she came to feel an attraction that wasmore than mere curiosity; a sort of proprietorship, as it were, in thestrange lady. She began to wish that she might know her, and at last,in a very unexpected manner, the wish was gratified.
Claire had returned from a grand ball, weary and somewhat bored.Disrobing with unusual haste, she sought her couch. She had supposedherself very sleepy, but no sooner was her head upon the pillow, thansleep abandoned her, and she tossed restlessly, and very wide awake.
Finding sleep impossible, and herself growing nervous, Claire atlength arose. Throwing on a dressing-gown, she pushed a large chairto the window, and flinging herself in it, drew back the curtain.Glancing across the way, she was startled by a light shining out fromthe upper windows of the mysterious house. She had looked at thathouse when quitting her carriage, because to look had become a habit.But there had been no light then; not one glimmer. And now the entireupper floor was brilliantly illuminated.
Claire rubbed her eyes and looked again. Then, with a cry of alarm,she sprang to her feet and rang her bell violently.
From the roof of the house a single flame had shot up, and Clairerealized the cause of that strange illumination. The upper floor wasin flames!
She turned up the gas and commenced making a hurried toilet. By thetime the sleepy servant appeared in answer to her ring, she waswrapping a worsted shawl about her head and shoulders, preparatory togoing out.
"Rouse papa and the servants, James!" she commanded, sharply. "Numbertwo hundred is on fire! Go instantly!"
Giving the startled and bewildered James a push in the direction ofher father's sleeping-room, she darted down the stairs. She unboltedand unchained the street door, and hurried straight across to numbertwo hundred, where she rang peal after peal.
The tiny flame had grown a great one by this time, and almostsimultaneously with her ring at the door, the hoarse fire-alarm bellroared out its warning.
It seemed an age to the girl before she heard bolts drawn back. Thenthe face of an elderly male servant peered cautiously out through asix-inch opening. In sharp, quick tones Claire told him that the roofwas in flames. The statement seemed only to paralyze the man.
Claire gave the door an excited push and spoke to him again. But henever moved until a voice, that evidently belonged to the lady of thehouse, said: "What is it, Peter?"
Claire answered for him: "Madame, the roof of your house is in flames!Alarm your servants and make your escape!"
Through the doorway Claire saw a white hand laid on the man'sshoulder, and suddenly he became galvanized into life.
Then the chain fell, and the door opened wide.
Claire and the mysterious lady were face to face.
By this time the people were moving in the street, and from thewindows of Claire's home, lights were flashing.
The woman drew back at the sound of the first footstep, and seemed tohesitate, with a look of uneasiness upon her face. Instantly Clairespoke the thought that had been in her mind when she rang the bell:"Madame, your house will soon be surrounded by strangers. Secure suchvaluables as are at hand and come with me across to my home. There youwill be safe from intruders."
The lady raised her hand, and saying, simply, "Wait," hurried up thebroad stairs.
Now all was confusion. Down the street came the rushing fire engines;servants ran about frantically, and people went tearing past Claire inthe crazy desire to seize something and smash it on the paving stones,thereby convincing themselves that they were "helping at a fire."Regardless of these, Claire stood at her post like a little sentinel.Just as the first engine halted before the house, the mistress of allthat doomed grandeur crossed its threshold for the last time. Then sheturned to Claire, and the two hurried silently through the throng, andacross the street. The door was fortunately ajar. The servants andMr. Keith were all outside, so the girl and her companion had beenunobserved.
Claire led the way straight to her own room. Ushering in hercompanion, she closed the door upon chance intruders, and turned tolook at her. The stranger had appeared at the door in a dressing-gownof dark silk, and this she still wore, having thrown over it a longcloak, and wrapped about her head, so as to almost entirely concealher features, a costly cashmere shawl. This she now removed, andrevealed to the anxious gaze of Claire the face of a woman past theprime of life;--a face that had never been handsome, but which boreunmistakable signs of refinement and culture in every feature. Theeyes were large, dark-gray, and undeniably beautiful. The hair waswavy and abundant; once it had been black as midnight, but now it wasplentifully streaked with gray. The face was thin and almostcolorless. The hands were still beautiful, with long slender fingersand delicate veining; the very _beau ideal_ of aristocratic hands.
This much Claire saw almost at a glance. Then the lady said, in a low,sweet voice that was in perfect unison with the hands, and eyes, andgeneral bearing:
"I cannot tell you, dear young lady, how much I thank you for yourcourage and hospitality. I could not have endured the going out uponthe street in that throng."
Claire laughed softly, and said, with characteristic frankness: "Iguessed that, madame, for I must confess to having, on more than oneoccasion, seen that you do not desire observation."
"The mistress of all the doomed grandeur crossed thethreshold for the last time."--page 293.]
The stranger looked at her with evident admiration. "You were kinderand more thoughtful for a stranger than I have found most of our sex,Miss ----; I beg your pardon; I am so much of a hermit that I don'teven know your name."
"My name is Keith,--Claire Keith."
Then the girl crossed to the window and looked over at the burningbuilding, while the stranger sank wearily into a chair.
"Your house is going fast, madame. I fear nothing can be saved," saidClaire. "The upper floor is already gone."
The stranger smiled slightly, but never so much as glanced out at herdisappearing home.
"I hope my landlord is well insured," she said. "As for me, I have mychiefest valuables here," drawing from underneath the cloak, which shehad only partially thrown off, a small casket, and a morocco case thatevidently contained papers. "I keep these always near me; as for therest, there is nothing lost that money cannot replace."
Claire looked a trifle surprised at her indifference to thedestruction of her elegant furniture, but made no answer. And thestranger fell into thoughtful silence.
A rap sounded on the door, and a gentle voice outside said: "Claire,dear, are you there?"
The girl turned upon the stranger a look of embarrassed inquiry. "Thatis mamma," she said.
The lady smiled half sadly at her evident perturbation, and replied,with a touch of dignity in her tone, "Admit your mother, my dear. Iwas about to ask for her."
Claire drew a sigh of relief and opened the door.
"My child," began Mrs. Keith, as she hurriedly entered the room,"James tells me that you--"
Here she broke off as her eyes fell upon the stranger, and Clairehastened to say: "Mamma, this is the lady whose house is burning. Iran over there as soon as I saw the first flame and asked her to comehere."
Mrs. Keith was not only a lady, but a woman of good sense, and sheturned courteously toward the intruder, saying, "You did quite right,my dear. I tru
st you have not been too seriously a loser by thismisfortune, madame."
The lady had risen. Now she stepped forward and said, in herunmistakably high-bred tones, "I have suffered no material injury, Iassure you. And your daughter has done me a great kindness. I wasabout to ask if I might see you, as I felt that it was to you, as themistress of this house, that I owed some explanation regarding myself,before accepting further hospitality from your daughter."
Mrs. Keith bowed gravely, and the stranger continued,
"My name is Mrs. Ralston. I have lived for nearly ten years a secludedlife, having been an invalid. Messrs. Allyne & Clive are my bankers,and have been for years. Mr. Allyne is an old family friend. If youwill ask your husband to call upon him, you will be assured that I amnot a mysterious adventuress."
Mrs. Ralston smiled slightly, and Mrs. Keith smiled in return as shesaid, cordially: "Your face and manner assure me of that, Mrs.Ralston. And now will you not permit me to show you a room where youcan rest a little, for it is almost morning, and your night's reposehas been sadly disturbed."
"I must accept your hospitality, Mrs. Keith, and ask to be allowed tointrude upon you until I can communicate with Mr. Allyne, and he canfind me a suitable place of residence."
"Don't let that trouble you, pray. We shall be happy to have youremain our guest," and Mrs. Keith turned to leave the room.
Mrs. Ralston held out her hand to Claire, and that impulsive younglady clasped it in both her own, as they bade each other good-night.And so the mysterious lady was actually under the same roof with thegirl who had been so much interested in her and her possible history.
Mr. Allyne was well known to Mr. Keith, and a man whom he highlyesteemed. On the following day, at the request of Mrs. Ralston, hecalled at the banking-house of Allyne & Clive.
On learning that Mrs. Ralston was the guest of his brother banker, andof the demolition of her house, Mr. Allyne was doubly surprised. Andhis statement concerning the lady was not only satisfactory but highlygratifying. She had been left an orphan in her girlhood, and was fromone of the oldest and proudest of Virginia's old and proud families.She had now no very near relatives, and having separated from aworthless husband, had lived mostly in Europe. She had resumed herfamily name, and although the husband from whom she had withdrawnherself, had squandered nearly half her fortune, she was still awealthy woman. He spoke in highest terms of praise of her mind andaccomplishments, and assured Mr. Keith that she was not only a womanof unusual refinement and culture, but one also of loftiest principlesand purest Christianity. If it were not that it would be the veryplace where this worthless husband would be likeliest to find her, hewould not allow her to occupy any home save his own. And, lastly, Mr.Allyne stated that if he, Mr. Keith, could prevail upon Mrs. Ralstonto remain under his roof, he would do Mr. Allyne a great favor.
"For," concluded that gentleman, "she lives too secluded, and she isso well fitted for such society as that of your wife and daughter; sheis a woman to grace any household."
Mr. Keith returned home and faithfully reported all that he had heardconcerning their guest.
Claire had been very much in love with the grave, stately lady fromthe first, and after a morning's chat with her, Mrs. Keith was not farbehind in admiration.
And the woman who had lived alone so much, found this cheery littlefamily circle very pleasant, so when Claire and her mother begged herwith much earnestness to remain with them, she did not refuse.
"I cannot resist the invitation which I feel to be so sincere," shesaid. "I will remain with you for a time, at least, but I am too muchof a hermit to tarry long where there is such a magnet as this,"turning to Claire.
And Claire laughingly declared that she would forswear society, anddon a veil of any thickness, if only Mrs. Ralston would share herisolation.
So she stayed with them, and soon became as a dearly loved sister toMrs. Keith; while between herself and Claire, an attachment, asunusual as it was strong, sprang into being. They drove together, readtogether, talked together by the hour, and never seemed to weary ofeach other's society.
Enthusiastic Claire wrote to Olive and Madeline, giving glowingdescriptions of her new found friend. But because of the events thatwere making Olive and Madeline doubly dear to her, and because shecould not speak of them to a stranger, however loved and trusted,Claire said little to Mrs. Ralston of her sister or of the littleheroine of Oakley.
Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter Page 30
