The Masked Bridal

by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  "I SHALL NEVER FORGIVE EITHER OF YOU FOR YOUR SIN AGAINST ME."

  The morning following the great Goddard ball at Wyoming, found Edithmuch better, greatly to the surprise of every one.

  She was quite weak, as was but natural after such a shock to hersystem, both physically and mentally; but she had slept very quietlythrough the night, after the housekeeper had gone to her and thrownthe protection of her presence around her.

  At Emil Correlli's request, the physician had remained in the houseall night, in case he should be wanted; and when he visited her quiteearly in the morning, he expressed himself very much gratified to findher so comfortable, and said she would do well enough without anyfurther medical treatment, but advised her to keep quiet for a day ortwo.

  This Edith appeared perfectly willing to do, and lay contentedly amongher pillows, watching her kind nurse while she put the room in order,making no remarks, asking no questions, but with a look of graveresolve growing in her eyes and about her sweet mouth, which betrayedthat she was doing a good deal of thinking upon some subject.

  Mrs. Goddard came to her door immediately after breakfast, but Edithrefused to see her.

  She had told Mrs. Weld not to admit any one; therefore, when the ladyof the house sought admittance, the housekeeper firmly butrespectfully denied her entrance.

  "But I have something very important to say to Edith," madampersisted.

  "Then it had best be left unsaid until the poor girl is stronger,"Mrs. Weld replied, without moving her portly proportions and holdingthe door firmly in her hand.

  "I have a message from my brother for her--it is necessary that Ishould deliver it," Mrs. Goddard obstinately returned. Mrs. Weldlooked back into the room inquiringly.

  "I do not wish to see any one," Edith weakly responded, but in a voiceof decision which told the listener outside that the girl had nointention of yielding the point.

  "Very well; then I will wait until she feels stronger," said thebaffled woman, whereupon she beat an ignominious retreat, and theinvalid was left in peace.

  Mrs. Weld spent as much time as possible with her, but she of coursehad her duties below to attend to; so, at Edith's request, she lockedher in and took the key with her when she was obliged to godownstairs.

  Once, while she was absent, some one crept stealthily to the door andknocked.

  Edith started up, and leaned upon her elbow, a momentary look of fearsweeping her face; but she made no response.

  The knock was repeated.

  Still the girl remained motionless and voiceless, only her great blueeyes began to blaze with mingled indignation and contempt, for sheknew, instinctively, who was seeking admission.

  "Miss Al--Edith, I must speak with you--I must have an interview withyou," said the voice of Emil Correlli from without.

  Still no answer from within; but the dazzling gleam in the girl's eyesplainly showed that that voice had aroused all the spirit within herin spite of her weak condition.

  "Pray grant me an interview, Edith--I have much to say to you--muchto explain--much to entreat of you," continued the voice, with a noteof earnest appeal.

  But he might as well have addressed the walls for all the effect heproduced.

  There was a moment or two of silence, then the man continued, withsomething of authority:

  "I have the right to come to you, Edith--I have a right to demand thatyou regard my wishes. If you are not prepared to receive me just now,name some time when I can see you, and I will wait patiently yourpleasure; only speak and tell me that you will comply with myrequest."

  It was both a pretty and a striking picture behind that closed door,if he could but have seen it--the fair girl, in her snowy robe, overwhich she had slipped a pretty light blue sack, reclining upon herelbow, her beautiful hair falling in graceful confusion about hershoulders; her violet eyes gleaming with a look of triumph in heradvantage over the man without; her lips--into which the color wasbeginning to flow naturally again--parted just enough to reveal themilk-white teeth between them.

  When the man outside asserted his right to come to her, the only signshe had made was a little toss of her golden-crowned head, indicativeof defiance, while about the corners of her lovely mouth there lurkeda smile of scorn that would have been maddening to Emil Correlli couldhe have seen it.

  At last a discontented muttering and the sound of retreating steps inthe hall told her that her persecutor had become discouraged, andgone. Then, with a sigh of relief, she sank back upon her pillowfeeling both weak and weary from excitement.

  Left alone once more, she fell into deep thought.

  In spite of a feeling of despair which, at times, surged over her inview of the trying position in which she found herself, the basedeception practiced upon her, aroused a spirit of indomitableresistance, to battle for herself and her outraged feelings, andoutwit, if possible, these enemies of her peace.

  "They have done this wicked thing--that woman and her brother," shesaid to herself; "they have cunningly plotted to lure me into thistrap; but, though they have succeeded in fettering me for life, thatis all the satisfaction that they will ever reap from their scheme.They cannot compel me, against my will, to live with a man whom Iabhor. Even though I stood up before that multitude last evening, andappeared a willing actor in that disgraceful sacrilegious scene, noone can make me abide by it, and I shall denounce and defy them both;the world shall at least ring with scorn for their deed, even though Icannot free myself by proving a charge of fraud against them. But,oh--"

  The proud little head suddenly drooped, and with a moan of pain shecovered her convulsed face with her hands, as her thoughts flew to acertain room in New York, where she had spent one happy, blissful weekin learning to love, with all her soul, the man whom she had served.

  She had believed, as we know, that her love for Royal Bryant washopeless--at least she had told herself so, and that she could neverlink her fate with his, after learning of her shameful origin.

  Yet, now that there appeared to have arisen an even greater barrier,she began to realize that all hope had not been quite dead--that, inher heart, she had all the time been nursing a tender shoot ofaffection, and a faint belief that her lover would never relinquishhis desire to win her.

  But these sad thoughts finally set her mind running in anotherchannel, and brought a gleam of hope to her.

  "He is a true and honorable man," she mused, "I will appeal to him inmy trouble; and if any one can find a loop-hole of escape for me I amsure he will be able to do so."

  When Mrs. Weld brought her lunch, she sat up and ate it eagerly,resolved to get back her strength as soon as possibly in order tocarry out her project at an early date. While she was eating, she toldher friend of Emil Correlli's visit and its result.

  "Why cannot they let you alone!" the woman cried, indignantly. "Theyshall not persecute you so."

  "No, I do not intend they shall," Edith quietly replied, "but I thinkby to-morrow morning, I shall feel strong enough for an interview,when we will have my relations toward them established for all time,"and by the settling of the girl's pretty chin, Mrs. Weld was convincedthat she would be lacking in neither spirit nor decision.

  "If you feel able to talk about it now, I wish you would tell meexactly how they managed to hoodwink you to such an extent. Perhaps Imay be of some service to you, when the matter comes to a crisis," thewoman remarked, as she studied the sweet face before her with kind andpitying eyes.

  And Edith related just how Mrs. Goddard had drawn her into the net byrepresenting that two of her actors had been called away in the midstof the play and that the whole representation would be spoiled unlessshe would consent to help her out.

  "It was very cleverly done," said Mrs. Weld, when she concluded; butshe looked grave, for she saw that the entire affair had been soadroitly managed, it would be very difficult to prove that Edith hadnot been in the secret and a willing actor in the drama. "But do notworry, child; you may depend upon me to do my utmost
to help you inevery possible way."

  The next morning Edith was able to be up and dressed, and she began topack her trunk, preparatory to going away. The guests had all left onthe previous day, and everything was being put in order for the houseto be closed for the remainder of the winter, while it was stated thatthe family would return to the city on the next day, which would beThursday.

  Edith had almost everything ready for removal by noon, and, afterlunch was over, sent word to Mrs. Goddard that she would like aninterview with her.

  The woman came immediately, and Edith marveled to see how pale andworn she looked--how she had appeared to age during the last day ortwo.

  "I am so glad that you have decided to see me, Edith," she remarked,in a fondly confidential tone, as she drew a chair to the girl's sideand sat down. "My brother is nearly distracted with grief and remorseover what has happened, and the attitude which you have assumed towardhim. He adores you--he will be your slave if you only take the rightway to win him. Surely, you will forgive him for the deception whichhis great affection led him to practice upon you," she concluded, witha coaxing smile, such as she would have assumed in dealing with afractious child.

  "No," said Edith, with quiet decision, "I shall never forgive eitherof you for your sin against me--it is beyond pardon."

  "Ah! I will not intercede for myself--but think how Emil loves you,"pleaded her companion.

  "You should have said, 'think how he loves himself,' madam," Edithrejoined, with a scornful curl of her lips, "for nothing but therankest selfishness could ever have led a person to commit an act ofsuch duplicity and sacrilege as that which he and you adopted tosecure your own ends. He does not desire to be pardoned. His onlydesire is that I should relent and yield to him--which I never shalldo."

  As she uttered these last words, she emphasized them with a decidedlittle gesture of her left hand that betrayed a relentless purpose.

  "Ah!" she cried, the next moment, with a start, the movement havingattracted her eye to the ring upon her third finger, which until thatmoment she had entirely forgotten.

  With a shiver of repulsion, she snatched it off and tossed it into thelap of her companion.

  "Take it back to him," she said. "I had forgotten I had it on; Idespise myself for having worn it even until now."

  Madam flushed angrily at her act and words.

  "You are very hard--you are very obdurate," she said, sharply.

  "Very well; you can put whatever construction you choose upon thestand I have taken, but do not for a moment deceive yourself byimagining that I will ever consent to be known as Emil Correlli'swife; death would be preferable!" Edith calmly responded.

  "Most girls would only be too eager and proud to assume theposition--they would be sincerely grateful for the luxuries andpleasures they would enjoy as my brother's wife," Mrs. Goddard coldlyremarked, but with an angry gleam in her eyes.

  A little smile of contempt curled the corners of Edith's red mouth;but otherwise she did not deign to notice these boasting comments, acircumstance which so enraged her companion that she felt, for amoment, like strangling the girl there and then.

  But there was far more to be considered than her own personalfeelings, and she felt obliged to curb herself for the time.

  If scandal was to be avoided, she must leave no inducement untried tobend Edith's stubborn will, and madam herself was too proud tocontemplate anything so humiliating; she was willing to do or bearalmost anything to escape becoming a target for the fashionable worldto shoot their arrows of ridicule at.

  "Edith, I beg that you will listen to me," she earnestly pleaded,after a few moments of thought. "This thing is done and cannot beundone, and now I want you to be reasonable and think of theadvantages which, as Emil's wife, you may enjoy. You are a poor girl,without home or friends, and obliged to work for your living. There isan escape from all this if you will be tractable; you can have abeautiful house elegantly furnished, horses, carriages, diamonds, andvelvets--in fact, not a wish you choose to express ungratified. Youmay travel the world over, if you desire, with no other object in viewthan to enjoy yourself. On the other hand, if you refuse, there willbe no end of scandal--you will ruin the reputation of our wholefamily--Emil will become the butt of everybody's scorn and ridicule. Ishall never be able to show my face again in society, either in Bostonor New York; and my husband, who has always occupied a high position,will be terribly shocked and humiliated."

  Edith listened quietly to all that she had to say, not onceattempting to interrupt her; but when madam finally paused, inexpectation of a reply, she simply remarked:

  "You should have thought of all this, madam, before you plotted forthe ruin of my life; I am not responsible for the consequences of yourtreachery and crime."

  "Crime! that is an ugly word," tartly cried Mrs. Goddard, who began tofind the tax upon her patience almost greater than she could bear.

  "Nevertheless, it is the correct term to apply to what you havedone--it is what I shall charge you with--"

  "What! do you dare to tell me that you intend to appeal to thecourts?" exclaimed madam, aghast.

  She had fondly imagined that, the deed once done, the girl having nofriends whose protection she could claim, would make the best of it,and gracefully yield to the situation.

  "That is what I intend to do."

  Anna Goddard's face was almost livid at this intrepid response.

  "And you utterly refuse to listen to reason?" she inquired, strugglinghard for self-control.

  "I utterly refuse to be known as Emil Correlli's wife, if that is whatyou mean by 'reason,'" said Edith, calmly.

  "Girl! girl! take care--do not try my patience too far," cried hercompanion, with a flash of passion, "or we may have to resort todesperate measures with you."

  "Such as what, if you please?" inquired Edith, still unmoved.

  "That remains to be seen; but I warn you that you are bringing onlywrath upon your own head. We shall never allow you to create ascandal--we shall find a way to compel you to do as we wish."

  "That you can never do!" and the beautiful girl proudly faced thewoman with such an undaunted air and look that she involuntarilyquailed before her. "It is my nature," she went on, after a slightpause, "to be gentle and yielding in all things reasonable, and when Iam kindly treated; but injustice and treachery, such as you have beenguilty of, always arouse within me a spirit which a thousand like youand your brother could never bend nor break."

  "Do not be too sure, my pretty young Tartar," retorted madam, with adisagreeable sneer.

  "I rejected Monsieur Correlli's proposals to me some weeks ago," Edithresumed, without heeding the rude interruption. "I made him clearlyunderstand, and you also, that I could never marry him. You appearedto accept the situation only to scheme for my ruin; but, even thoughyou have tricked me into compromising myself in the presence of manywitnesses, it was only a trick, and therefore no legal marriage. Atleast I do not regard myself as morally bound; and, as I have saidbefore, I shall appeal to the courts to annul whatever tie there maybe supposed to exist. This is my irrevocable decision--nothing canchange it--nothing will ever swerve me a hair's breadth from it. Gotell your brother, and then let me alone--I will never renew thesubject with either of you."

  And as Edith ceased she turned her resolute face to the window, andAnna Goddard knew that she had meant every word that she had uttered.

  She was amazed by this show of spirit and decision.

  The girl had always been a perfect model of gentleness and kindness,ready to do whatever was required of her, obliging and invariablysweet-tempered.

  She could hardly realize that the cold, determined, defiant, undauntedsentences to which she had just listened could have fallen from thelips of the mild, quiet Edith whom she had hitherto known.

  But, as may be imagined, such an attitude from one who had been aservant to her was not calculated to soothe her ruffled feelings, andafter the first flash of astonishment, anger got the better of her.

  "Do you
imagine you can defy us thus?" she cried, laying an almostbrutal grip upon the girl's arm, as she arose to abandon, for thetime, her apparently fruitless task. "No, indeed! You will find toyour cost that you have stronger wills than your own to cope with."

  With these hot words, Anna Goddard swept angrily from the room,leaving her victim alone.