CHAPTER L.
"AND THEN COMES REST."
At last Oakley is rid of its _intriguants_, its plotters andimpostors.
And Madeline and Claire sit alone in the chamber of the former,talking of the strange events that have so lately transpired--ofPhilip Girard's vindication, of Lucian Davlin's punishment, of EdwardPercy's death.
It is the day following that of the burial, and Mrs. Ralston is lyingasleep in her own room, with old Hagar in near attendance.
"Poor Mrs. Ralston," says Claire, after a long pause in theirconverse. "She is thoroughly worn out, and yet, weary as she was, shemust have talked with you for hours, Madeline, after we came back fromthe grave."
Over Madeline's face flits an odd, half-sad smile, as she replies,dreamily:
"Yes, we talked a long time, dear; Mrs. Ralston was then in the moodfor talking. Can't you understand how one may be nervously active, maybe at just that stage of bodily weariness when the mind is intenselyalive? The excitement of all she had lately undergone was still uponher, and the mind could not resign itself to rest while anythingremained unsettled or under a cloud."
"Oh, I can understand how that may be." Then, after a pause, "sosomething remained to be settled?"
"Yes."
"And, between you, you disposed of the difficulty?"
"Yes."
Another silence. Then Madeline turns to look at her companion.
"Why don't you ask me what the 'difficulty' was?"
No answer.
"But you want to know?"
Claire laughs nervously.
"And I want to tell you," pursues Madeline. "First, we talked ofourselves."
"Oh!" ejaculates Claire, looking immensely relieved.
"Yes, we talked of ourselves first; and we have become great friends."
"Of course!" cries Miss Enthusiasm; "I knew you would."
"We have decided to give our new friendship a severe test."
"How?" asks Claire, forgetting her caution.
"By visiting Europe in each other's society."
Claire springs up excitedly. "Madeline Payne, you don't mean it! You_can't_! You _shall_ not; there! Europe, indeed. You are crazy! Iwon't hear of it!" stamping her foot emphatically.
Madeline leans back in her chair and laughs; then suddenly becomesgrave.
"But I do mean it, Claire, my darling," she says, softly. "And I'lltell you what else I mean. Sit down here, close beside me and listen."
Instinctively Claire obeys.
"Now, then," continues Madeline, "you know what an odd, uncultivatedsort of a life mine has been, and you know that this little world ofmine has not been a very bright one. Well, ever since I could read andthink, I have longed to see Italy, and France, and England, andGermany, and the Holy Land. My work is done here. There is nothing nowto prevent my going--no duty to perform, no one to keep me here. Icould not find a better friend and companion than Mrs. Ralston, andshe is very anxious to go, and to take me with her. You are all verydear to me, but no one needs me now more than she, nor so much. And,Claire, don't make any mistakes about me. I am not going awaysorrowfully, or with any heavy weight upon my spirits. I am going toenjoy and make the most and best of the life and youth God has givenme. I am going for change, and recreation, and rest. I have beenacting the part of an avenger here, a stern, unforgiving Nemesis, butI would do over again all that I have done, if need be. I am not halfso good as you. I can not submit with meekness to injustice and wrong.I shall fight my enemies, if I have more to fight, until the end ofthe chapter. And now I have a confession to make."
Claire stirs uneasily. "Don't," she says, deprecatingly: "I don't wantto hear a confession."
"But I want to make one, and you must listen. First, however, let metell you that during my talk with Mrs. Ralston, I heard about acertain interview, wherein a ridiculous young lady discarded the manshe loved, because she fancied she would wrong some one else if sheadmitted her love for him, and accepted his. Well--don't turn yourface away--that was foolish. But my blunder was a downright wickedone. Yes, Claire, I will tell all the truth. When you and I stoodtogether out under the trees, and talked of Clarence Vaughan; when youshowed me the picture and told me the little pastoral about EdwardPercy; I knew that Clarence Vaughan loved you--and I thought I loved,nay, I did love, _him_.
"When I came down here and found so soon that Edward Percy was--soutterly unworthy, we will say, because he is dead, I felt at once thatyou must be undeceived.
"Then a great temptation came to me, and I said to myself, 'When shebecomes disenchanted, and ceases to love this man, she will learn tovalue the other and more noble lover; she will learn to love him!'
"All night long, before I came to undeceive you, and to warn Olive, Ibattled with a great temptation. And I yielded to it. Listen, Claire,while I tell you how base I was.
"When I set out for the city in the morning, I said to myself: 'ClaireKeith is the soul of truth and honor. She is generous to a fault. If Ilet her see how much I care for Clarence Vaughan, I shall appeal toher pity and her honor, without the aid of words. She will neverlisten to his suit; she will try to advance my interest; she willbecome my ally.' See, dear, how truly I judged you.
"Well, I came. I told you of Percy's baseness, and when I saw howbrave you were; how full of scorn for the dishonest man; howimpossible it was for one so unworthy to drag you down, or darken yourlife because of his baseness; I was filled with shame and remorse. Iknew then that I was unworthy your friendship, or of a good man'slove.
"Standing in your presence, humiliated by your pure nobility, Irepented, and I resolved to give up all thought of Clarence Vaughan. Idid give him up.
"But, Claire, although I did not know it, my very penitence must havecommitted me, and while I was renouncing my designs, you wereresolving to further them. In some manner I must have betrayedmyself."
There is a moment's pause. Claire Keith's face is buried in her hands,and Madeline, bending toward her, cries out, remorsefully:
"Claire! Claire! Look up and believe me. As God hears me, that is pastand dead. See how I am humbling myself, and do not doubt me."
Claire's head rears itself suddenly. She flings herself forwardimpetuously, and clasps her arms about her friend.
"Madeline, stop!" she cries, brokenly; "I won't hear you slanderyourself. Don't I know you too well to doubt you! But I won't have alover; I won't love any one but you."
Again the laugh comes to Madeline's lips.
"Little Miss Impulse!" she says, tenderly. "But, sister Claire, I amnot done yet. I am going to put you on the penitent's stool now. Justimagine yourself in my place for a little. Do you think I could havemade this confession to you if my weakness were not a thing of thepast? You know I never could. I am not ashamed to confess that I didlove Clarence. But I should be more than ashamed, under all thecircumstances, if I could not say with truth that that love is a thingof the past. As my dearest friend, my brother, if you will, I shallalways love him; but no more than that. I am not sorry that I haveloved him, for I am a better woman because of it. But, I repeat it,that love is a thing of the past. Claire, do you not believe?"
They gaze into each other's eyes for a moment. Then Claire says: "Ibelieve, Madeline."
A smile brightens the brown eyes now, and their owner says: "Thendon't you see that you have made a mistake--one that, for my sake, youmust rectify?"
Claire begins to look rebellious. "No, I don't," she cries, blushingscarlet. "You wicked girl, you have been getting me into a trap!"
Madeline says, very gravely:
"Claire, I want you to trust me in this, as you all have in otherthings. I want you to let me feel that I have not made the friends Ilove best, unhappy. I shall leave you soon: if I have been yourfriend, let me have my way in this one thing. If you don't, all therest will have been in vain. See, my drama is ended; my enemies arepunished. Now let me make my dear ones happy. Do you know, John Arthurhas put a new thought in my head. 'Confound you,' he growled; it washis parting bene
diction, 'I might have known your father's blood ruledyou. I might have looked for cunning and intrigue from that confoundedExpert's Daughter.' It is true, Claire; I am the daughter of anExpert, a detective, brave and shrewd. Hagar says that I am like myfather, and that I have inherited his talents. When I recall the knotwe have just unravelled, the war we have just waged, I can but thinkthat my father's chosen calling may have become mine. If the worldever grows stale, if I pine for change or excitement or absorbingoccupation, I can go to my father's chief and say, 'I am the daughterof Lionel Payne, the Expert, and I have inherited a measure of myfather's talents.' Do you think he will trust his knotty cases to theExpert's Daughter?"
"I think he will, if he is wise. But, Madeline, all this is folly. Youwill never leave us. Olive wants you; we all want you."
"And you will all have enough of me. But, Claire, do not ask me tostay now. It is better for me, better for all, that I go away. I mustlet old memories die out. I want to forget old scenes. I want rest. Ineed to school my wayward nature, to teach my heart to beat calmly,my soul to possess itself in peace. Claire, I must go."
Just here, some one taps softly. It is a servant who holds in herhands a telegram from Olive to Madeline, which runs thus:
All is well. Philip and I start for home to-night. Meet us there without fail, all of you.
OLIVE.
They read it together, and then Claire burst into tears--tears of joyand thankfulness.
"Philip is free once more! Oh, Madeline, Madeline; and it was you whosaved him; it was _you_!"
Madeline pushes the message into her hand, saying: "If I have donesuch wonderful things, why do you refuse to obey me? Go, now, and takethis good news to Clarence Vaughan. And mind you, don't come back, forI am going to tell Mrs. Ralston."
Half laughing, half crying, Claire is compelled to go down to thelibrary alone. Clarence Vaughan is there, pacing thoughtfully up anddown.
Claire enters softly, the paper ostentatiously displayed in her hand.But he looks straight at the blushing, bashful, tear-stained face. Hereyes, half glad, half shy, wholly tell-tale, fall before his own. Andthe lover who has waited in patience for his opportunity, seizes itnow and makes it a moment of victory.
"I have brought you good news, Dr. Vaughan."
He comes straight toward her, and imprisons both little hands,together with the "news" they contain.
"You have brought me yourself, then, and I have been lying in wait forthis opportunity. Claire, shall you ever run away from me again?"
It is useless to rebel. His voice tells her that he knows too much,and that he will not be evaded any more.
She gives him one glimpse of her face, and then she is clasped in hisstrong, loving arms, and from this safe haven, after a time, she tellsher good news, struggling prettily to free herself from the lovingimprisonment.
"Philip is free, and is coming home."
"Of course; why not, darling? There is no accusation against him now."
"Madeline is going away with Mrs. Ralston. Don't you think she is toobad? Can't we make her stay?"
A look of regretful sadness rests for a moment upon his countenance.Then he says, very tenderly:
"My little darling, Madeline has earned the right to her own perfectliberty. After the fierce schooling through which she has passed,believe me, there is nothing left for us to teach her. She has grownbeyond us. Let her have her will, for she knows best what will giveher the rest, the forgetfulness, the absorbing interest in otherthings, that her strong nature needs. Madeline has much to unlearn,much to forget; and she knows this. She is growing to understand herstrong, brave self, to value her strength. She will never be an idler,never sink into the ranks of the commonplace. If, after a time, shefinds for herself a worthy love, she will be the tenderest, the truestof wives. But she is sufficient unto herself. She has beauty, genius,force, a strong will, a splendid intellect. We shall watch her coursefrom afar, and I am much mistaken if we do not, some day, hear greatthings of our Madeline."
Claire draws herself gently from the restraining arm, and turns herblue eyes upon him.
"She sinks to her knees, and leaning out, absorbs therestfulness, the peace, the white, pure glory of the dawn."--page456.]
"Madeline will never marry," she says softly, sadly. "You are right;she is above us, beyond us. God has made her sufficient unto herself."
* * * * *
It is dawn, gray dawn.
Madeline Payne rises from a long untroubled sleep, and flings wide hershutters.
What is this that she sees?
All below her an unbroken mantle of white; all about and above, thewaving of snowy plumes, and floating, misty-white loveliness.
The world is clothed in a new garment; the foot-prints of her enemiesare hidden, are blotted from the face of the earth. The pathway to thecemetery where they lately bore Edward Percy, is obliterated, too. Thegrave of the erring man is covered with heaven's whitest, purestmantle of charity and forgetfulness.
Above, below, all about her, is silence and whiteness and peace.
She sinks to her knees, and leaning out, absorbs into herself therestfulness, the peace, the white, pure glory, of the dawn.
"It is a token," she murmurs, softly. "It is God's benediction on mynew day, on my new life. It is the beginning of rest. There is nothingold in this fresh, white world. Let the snow mantle rest thus upon mypast life. Ah, how rich I am! How rich in friends; how strong in thatI have been able to do some good, to make my beloved happy. Never letme repine at my fate. I am rich, and strong, and free. This new,white, beautiful world is mine, when I wish to wander. My friends aremine, when I wish to rest, and find a home."
Ah, 'tis good to know--
"God's greatness shines around our incompleteness; Round our restlessness, _His rest_."
Up from the east shoots an arrow of gold, and a bar of roseate light.Higher yet, and the world is aglow with mystic, glittering loveliness.Diamonds sparkling everywhere; snow plumes waving; the earth's whiteunbroken mantle gleaming and sparkling, and stretching away to meetthe golden glow at the horizon's edge.
Kneeling there, with her white hands clasped upon the window ledge,the glory of the morning falls over her like a benediction; lightingup the golden hair; pouring its radiance into the solemn brown eyes;kissing the pure pale cheeks; breathing peace, and rest, and hope intothe long-tried, but conquering heart of THE EXPERT'S DAUGHTER.
THE END.
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Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter Page 51
