The Masked Bridal

by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon

  CHAPTER XX.

  EDITH RESOLVES TO MEET HER ENEMIES WITH THEIR OWN WEAPONS.

  The morning following her interview with Emil Correlli, when Edithattempted to leave her room to go down to breakfast, she found, to herdismay, that her door had been fastened on the outside.

  An angry flush leaped to her brow.

  "So they imagine they can make me bend to their will by making aprisoner of me, do they?" she exclaimed, with flashing eyes andscornful lips. "We shall see!"

  But she was powerless just then to help herself, and so was obliged tomake the best of her situation for the present.

  Presently some one knocked upon her door, and she heard a boltmoved--it having been placed there during the night. Then Mrs. Goddardappeared before her, smiling a gracious good-morning, and bearing atray, upon which there was a daintily arranged breakfast.

  "We thought it best for you to eat here, since you do not feel likecoming down to the dining-room," she kindly remarked, as she set thetray upon the table.

  Edith opened her lips to make some scathing retort; but, a brightthought suddenly flashing through her mind, she checked herself, andreplied, appreciatively:

  "Thank you, Mrs. Goddard."

  The woman turned a surprised look upon her, for she had expected onlytears and reproaches from her because of her imprisonment.

  But Edith, without appearing to notice it, sat down and quietlyprepared to eat her breakfast.

  "Ah! she is beginning to come around," thought the wily woman.

  But, concealing her secret pleasure at this change in her victim, sheremarked, in her ordinary tone:

  "We shall leave for the city very soon after breakfast, so please haveeverything ready so as not to keep the horses standing in the cold."

  "Everything is ready now," said Edith, glancing at her trunk, whichshe had locked just before trying the door.

  "That is well, and I will send for you when the carriage comesaround."

  Edith simply bowed to show that she heard, and then her companionretired, locking the door after her, but marveling at the girl'sapparent submission.

  "There is no way to outwit rogues except with their ownweapons--cunning and deceit," murmured the fair prisoner, bitterly, asshe began to eat her breakfast. "I will be very wary and apparentlysubmissive until I have matured my plans, and then they may chew theircud of defeat as long as it pleases them to do so."

  After finishing her meal she dressed herself for the coming drive, butwondered why Mrs. Weld had not been up to see her, for, of course, shemust know that something unusual had happened, or that she was illagain, since she had not joined her at breakfast.

  A little later she heard a stealthy step outside her door, and thenext moment an envelope was slipped beneath it into her room; then thesteps retreated, and all was still again.

  Rising, Edith picked up the missive and opened it, when another sealedenvelope, addressed to her, in a beautiful, lady-like hand, andpostmarked Boston, was revealed, together with a brief note hastilywritten with a pencil.

  This latter proved to be from Mrs. Weld.

  "Dear Child," it ran, "I have been requested not to go to you this morning, as you are particularly engaged, which, of course, I understand as a command to keep out of the way. But I want you to know that I mean to stand by you, and shall do all in my power to help you. I shall manage to see or write to you again in a day or two. Meantime, don't lose heart.

  "Affectionately yours,

  "GERTRUDE WELD.

  "P.S.--The inclosed letter came for you in last night's mail. I captured it for you."

  With an eager light in her eyes, Edith opened it and read:

  "Boston, Feb. --, 18--.

  "MY DEAR MISS ALLEN:--I have learned of the wretched deception that has been practiced upon you, and hasten to write this to assure you that my previous offer of friendship--when we met at the time of the accident to my coachman--was not a mere matter of form. Again I say, if you need a friend, come to me, and I will do my utmost to shield you from those who have shown themselves your worst enemies, and whom I know to be unworthy of the position which they occupy in the social world. Come to me when you will, and I promise to protect you from them. I cannot say more upon paper.

  "Sincerely yours,

  ISABEL STEWART."

  "How very kind, and yet how very strange!" murmured Edith, as sherefolded the letter. "I wonder who could have told her about thatwretched affair of Tuesday evening. I wonder, too, what she knowsabout the Goddards, and if I had better accept her friendly offer."

  She reflected upon the matter for a few minutes, and then continued:

  "I think I will go to New York first, as I had planned, see what Mr.Bryant can do for me, and ascertain the meaning of that strangepersonal; then I think I will come back and ask her to take me as acompanion--for I do not believe that what I shall learn to myfinancial advantage will amount to enough to preclude the necessity ofmy doing something for my support. I suppose I ought to answer thisletter, though," she added, meditatively; "but I believe I shall notdare to until I am safely away from Boston, for if my reply shouldfall into the hands of any member of this family, my plans might befrustrated."

  She carefully concealed both notes about her person, and then sat downto await orders to go below.

  A little later Mrs. Goddard came to her and said they were about readyto leave for the city, and requested her to go down into the hall.

  Edith arose with apparent alacrity, and madam noticed with anexpression of satisfaction that her bearing was less aggressive thanwhen they had last met.

  She followed Mrs. Goddard downstairs and seated herself in the hall toawait the signal for departure.

  Presently Mr. Goddard came in from outdoors.

  He started slightly upon seeing Edith, then paused and inquired kindlyif she was feeling quite well again.

  Edith thanked him, and briefly remarked that she was, when he startledher by stooping suddenly and whispering in her ear:

  "Count upon me as your friend, my child; I promise you that I will doall in my power to help you thwart your enemies."

  He waited for no answer, but passed quickly on and entered thelibrary.

  Edith was astonished, and while, for the moment, she was touched byhis unexpected offer of assistance, she at the same time distrustedhim.

  "I will trust myself and my fate with no one but Royal Bryant," shesaid to herself, a flush of excitement rising to her cheek.

  A few minutes later the carriage was driven to the door--the snowhaving become so soft they were obliged to return to the city onwheels--when Mrs. Goddard came hurrying from the dining-room, whereshe had been giving some last orders to the servants, and biddingEdith follow her, passed out of the house and entered the carriage.

  Edith was scarcely seated beside her when Emil Correlli made hisappearance and settled himself opposite her.

  The young girl flushed, but, schooling herself to carry out the partwhich she had determined to assume for the present, made no other signto betray how distasteful his presence was to her.

  She could not, however, bring herself to join in any conversation,except, once or twice, to respond to a direct question from madam,although the young man tried several times to draw her out, until,finally discouraged, he relapsed into a sullen and moody silence,greatly to the disgust of his sister, who seemed nervously inclined totalk.

  Upon their arrival in town, Mrs. Goddard remarked to Edith:

  "I have been obliged to take, for a servant, the room you used tooccupy, dear; consequently, you will have to go into the south chamberfor the present. Thomas," turning to a man and pointing to Edith'strunk, "take this trunk directly up to the south chamber."

  Edith's heart gave a startled bound at this unexpected change.

  The "south chamber"
was the handsomest sleeping apartment in thehouse--the guest chamber, in fact--and she understood at once why ithad thus been assigned to her.

  It was intended that she should pose and be treated in every respectas became the wife of madam's brother, and thus the best room in thehouse had been set apart for her use.

  She knew that it would be both useless and unwise to make anyobjections; the change had been determined upon, and doubtless her oldroom was already occupied by a servant, to prevent the possibility ofher returning to it.

  Thus, after the first glance of surprise at madam, she turned andquietly followed the man who was taking up her trunk.

  But, on entering the "south chamber," another surprise awaited her,for the apartment had been fitted up with even greater luxury thanprevious to their leaving for the country.

  The man unstrapped her trunk and departed, when Edith looked aroundher with a flushed and excited face.

  A beautiful little rocker, of carved ivory, inlaid with gold, wasstanding in the bay-window overlooking the avenue, and beside it therewas an exquisite work-stand to match.

  An elegant writing-desk, of unique design, and furnished witheverything a lady of the daintiest tastes could desire, stood nearanother sunny window. The inkstand, paper weight, and blotter were ofsilver; the pen of gold, with a costly pearl handle.

  There were several styles of paper and envelopes, and all stamped ingilt with a monogram composed of the initials E. C., and there was atiny box of filigree silver filled with postage stamps.

  It was an outfit to make glad the heart of almost any beauty-lovinggirl; but Edith's eyes flashed with angry scorn the moment she caughtsight of the dainty monogram, wrought in gold, upon the paper andenvelopes.

  On the dressing-case there was a full set of toilet and manicureutensils, in solid silver, and also marked with the same initials;besides these there were exquisite bottles of cut glass, with goldstoppers filled with various kinds of perfumery.

  Upon the bed there lay an elegant sealskin garment, which, at aglance, Edith knew must have been cut to fit her figure, and beside itthere was a pretty muff and a Parisian hat that could not have costless than thirty dollars, while over the foot-board there hung threeor four beautiful dresses.

  "Did they suppose that they could buy me over--tempt me to sell myselffor this gorgeous finery?" the indignant girl exclaimed, in a voicethat quivered with anger. "They must think me very weak-minded andvariable if they did."

  But her curiosity was excited to see how far they had carried theirextravagant bribery; and, going back to the dressing-case, she drewout the upper drawer.

  Notwithstanding her indignation and scorn, she could not suppress acry of mingled astonishment and admiration at what she saw there, forthe receptacle contained the daintiest lingerie imaginable.

  There were beautiful laces, handkerchiefs, and gloves, suitable forevery occasion; three or four fans of costly material and exquisiteworkmanship; a pair of pearl-and-gold opera glasses.

  More than this, and arranged so as to cunningly tempt the eye, therewere several cases of jewels--comprising pearls, diamonds, emeralds,and rubies.

  It was an array to tempt the most obdurate heart and fancy, and Edithstood gazing upon the lovely things with admiring eyes while, after amoment, a little sigh of regret accompanied her resolute act ofshutting the drawer and turning the key in its lock.

  The second and third contained several suits of exquisite underwear offinest material, and comprising everything that a lady could need ordesire in that line; in the fourth drawer there were boxes of silkenhose of various colors, together with lovely French boots and slipperssuitable for different costumes.

  "What a pity to spend so much money for nothing," Edith murmured,regretfully, when she had concluded her inspection. "It is veryevident that they look upon me as a silly, vacillating girl, who canbe easily managed and won over by pretty clothes and glitteringbaubles. I suppose there are girls whose highest ambition in life isto possess such things, and to lead an existence of luxury andpleasure--who would doubtless sell themselves for them; but I shouldhate and scorn myself for accepting anything of the kind from a manwhom I could neither respect nor love."

  She gave utterance to a heavy sigh as she closed the drawer and turnedaway from the dressing-case; not, however, because she longed topossess the beautiful things she had seen, but in view of thedifficulties which might lie before her to hamper her movements in theeffort to escape from her enemies.

  "I suppose I must remain here for a few hours at least," shecontinued, an expression of anxiety flitting over her face, "and if Iexpect to carry out my plans successfully I must begin by assuming asubmissive role."

  She removed her hat and wraps, hanging them in a closet; then, goingto her trunk, she selected what few articles she would absolutely needon her journey to New York, and some important papers--among them theletters which her own mother had written--and after hastily makingthem up into a neat package, returned them again to the trunk forconcealment, until she should be ready to leave the house.

  This done, she sat down by a window to await and meet, with whatfortitude she could command, the next act in the drama of her life.

  Not long after she heard a step in the hall, then there came a knockon her door, and madam's voice called out:

  "It is only I, Edith; may I come in?"

  "Yes, come," unhesitatingly responded the girl, and Mrs. Goddard, herface beaming with smiles and good nature, entered the room.

  "How do you like your new quarters, dear?" she inquired, searchingEdith's fair face with eager eyes.

  "Of course, everything is very beautiful," she returned, glancingadmiringly around the apartment.

  "And are you pleased with the additions to the furnishings?--thechair, the work-table, and writing-desk?"

  "I have never seen anything more lovely," Edith replied, bendingforward as if to examine more closely the filigree stamp box on thedesk, but in reality to conceal the flush of scorn that leaped intoher eyes.

  "I knew you would like them," said madam, with a little note oftriumph in her voice; "they are exquisite, and Emil is going to havethem carefully packed, and take them along for you to use wherever youstop in your travels. And the cloak and dresses--aren't they perfectlyelegant? The jewels, too, and other things in the dressing-case; haveyou seen them?"

  "Yes, I have seen them all; but--but I am very sorry that so muchmoney should have been spent for me," Edith faltered, a hot flush,which her companion interpreted as one of pleasure and gratifiedvanity, suffusing her cheeks.

  "Oh, the money is of no account, if you are only happy," Mrs. Goddardlightly remarked. "And now," she went on eagerly, "I want you to dressyourself just as nicely as you can, and be ready, when the bell rings,to come down to lunch, as it becomes--my sister. Will you, dear?" sheconcluded, coaxingly. "Do, Edith, be reasonable; let us bury thehatchet, and all be on good terms."

  "I--I do not think I can quite make up my mind to go down to lunch,"Edith faltered, with averted face.

  Madam frowned; she had begun to think her victory was won, and thedisappointment nettled her. But she controlled herself and remarkedpleasantly:

  "Well, then, I will send up your lunch, if you will promise to comedown and dine with us, will you?"

  Edith hesitated a moment; then, drawing a long breath, she remarked,as if with bashful hesitancy:

  "I think, perhaps--I will go down later--by and by."

  "Now you are beginning to be sensible, dear," said madam, flashing acovert look of exultation at her, "and Emil will be so happy. Put onthis silver-gray silk--it is so lovely, trimmed with white lace--andthe pearls; you will be charming in the costume. I am sorry I have togo directly after lunch," she continued, regretfully, "but I have acall to make, and shall not be back for a couple of hours; but Emilwill be here; so if you can find it in your heart to be a little kindto him, just put on the gray silk--or anything else you mayprefer--and go down to him. May I tell him that you will?"

  "I will n
ot promise--at least until after you return," murmured Edith,in a low voice.

  Madam could have laughed in triumph, for she believed the victory washers.

  "Well, perhaps you would feel a trifle shy about it," she said,good-naturedly, "it would be pleasanter and easier for you, no doubt,if I were here, so I will come for you when I get back. Good-by, tillthen."

  And with a satisfied little nod and smile, madam left her and wentdownstairs to tell her brother that his munificence had won the day,and he would have no further trouble with a fractious bride.