Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER IV.

  MILLIONS MAY NOT PURCHASE LOVE.

  "Would it be presumptuous if I asked to know her name, Roderic--thisgirl of San Juan who risked so much to save your reputation if not yourlife? I feel under obligations to her, for your name is very dear tothose who know you--those bound to you by ties of consanguinity."

  "She comes of Spanish descent, but her heart is now only wrapped up inthe future of the lovely gem of the Antilles. Her name is Georgia Inezde Brabant."

  Perhaps his manner gave evidence that she was treading on dangerousground.

  "Thank you. Perhaps some day fortune may bring us together. I shall tryto love her, Roderic, because you call her your _friend_!"

  Then she branched off upon the subject of the cruise, to which sheseemed to look forward with almost childish delight.

  It is not every one to whom is given the proud fortune to own a modernsteam yacht, and this daughter of Eve could be forgiven a fair amountof exhilaration under the circumstances.

  Perhaps, truth to tell, the prospect of ten days basking in the companyof her athletic cousin had something to do with her light spirits.

  Owen's time was not wholly his own, so that he was soon forced to sallyforth upon the streets of the Irish metropolis.

  When Cleo was alone she hastened to her luxurious apartments andsearching the inmost recesses of an inlaid traveling writing desk whichhad been taken from a capacious trunk, she soon pounced upon a smallphotograph.

  It was wretchedly done by a tyro in Ponce, but even boorish work couldnot entirely conceal the fact that the face was that of a most lovelydark-eyed houri.

  Cleo looked eagerly at it.

  "I have had this now two years. Roderic dropped it in the garden, andI hid it away for a joke and then forgot to speak of it. This is thepicture of a daughter of Porto Rico--is it the same who is now inDublin, who last night at the peril of her name warned him of evil? Ihave reason to believe such to be the truth, for unless I am greatlymistaken I saw this same beauty coming out of St. Patrick's cathedralyesterday morning, when a gust of wind blew her veil aside. In thisland where Irish gray or blue eyes abound I was immediately attractedby such a beautiful pair of melting dusky orbs.

  "Heigho! this is Roderic's fate no doubt. Heaven grant that he maybe happy whate'er betide, for he deserves it. I would give all mymiserable millions for his heart's love, but it can not be. There is astartling story of the past connected with this girl, I am sure. Whydid they separate--does she love him still? Well, perhaps the futuremay tell."

  She put the photograph slowly back in the lodging place where it had solong rested securely. Even great riches had not the power to bring thisyoung woman unalloyed happiness, for the one treasure she would havevalued above all other earthly possessions seemed denied her by a cruelfate.

  It were hardly fair that all the joys of earth were handed over to thedisposal of one mortal.

  While she rolled in wealth beyond Aladdin's dreams and sighed fortrue love, many who were blessed in this regard struggled for a dailypittance and groaned because their heart's devotion could not comebetween the object of their worship and cruel Want.

  Truly, this is a queer old world, and at times it seems unequallydivided; but occasionally there is a shaking up all around that evensthings up somewhat.

  Possessed of a sudden notion Cleo dressed for the street.

  When she went out it was with a laughing remark to Miss Becky, whom sheintercepted upon the broad carpeted main stairway, to the effect that anumber of little shopping duties had to be looked after.

  However, M'lle Cleo's ideas of the shopping district must have becomea little mixed, for she sauntered in the direction of that quaint massof stone and glass with its spire and numerous minarets known as St.Patrick's Cathedral.

  She looked through the iron fence at the flat slabs and few monumentscommemorating illustrious Irish dead, she studied the architecture ofthe historic building, and cast many a curious glance at those whopassed in to late mass or came out from the interior.

  Her object seemed doomed to disappointment, for the face she sought wasnot seen.

  Once she eyed a lady closely veiled, who came out in company with amilitary looking gentleman sporting a shaggy head of gray hair _à la_Mark Twain, also a ferocious mustache waxed at the ends and giving thewearer the fierce appearance of King Humbert.

  As the couple passed Cleo she chanced to hear the lady make a casualremark, and two things struck the listener as singular.

  First it was pure Spanish she heard.

  Second, her voice was so very melodious it seemed to conjure up visionsof rippling water, warbling birds and all those things of which poetslove to rave.

  Cleo remembered--could she ever forget the pain that shot through herheart at the time--how Roderic had grown suddenly enthusiastic when hedeclared the voice of Senorita de Brabant as musical as the notes of anightingale--she had doubtless sung for him many times those passionateserenades and love songs for which dark eyed daughters of old Spainhave ever been famous.

  Cleo could imagine how those wonderful black orbs glowed with love'ssacred fire when _he_ sat near, upon a soft divan, or bent over thegurgling fountain's basin.

  She felt sick at heart, but such a nature never reveals the pain thatrankles within.

  Though suffering tortures such girls will laugh and seem as merry asthe lightest hearted among their comrades.

  After that came the shopping, and yet Cleo was annoyed to find herselflistening to every voice upon the street and in the stores.

  Surely there could not be another in all Dublin that so fully filledthe brief but graphic description Roderic had given of a woman's tonessounding like the soft gurgling of water over the mossy stones in theprimeval forest.

  "I wonder under what conditions we will meet, for something tells methis is bound to occur. And shall I too be drawn to her because he hasgiven his heart? Will she love him--love my old play fellow Rodericas--as I could do, have done these many years? Perhaps, but I doubtit, doubt whether these hot blooded girls of the tropic isles can loveso truly that they will sacrifice even their own happiness in orderthat _his_ life may be filled with sunshine. Still, God forgive me forjudging her harshly. I have other things--his love may be all in allto her. Come what will I shall do what is right and loyal and true asbecomes a daughter of Virginia. But oh! it is hard to give him up, myhope, my boy lover, my Roderic. Now I am done!"

  Having thus grimly dismissed the matter from her mind for the presentthe young lady proceeded to carry out her designs.

  Numerous things were on her list to be added to the abundant storesaboard the yacht, and it would probably puzzle the honest steward, sheimagined, to know what to do with the last arrivals.

  "If I remained in Dublin three days more I am sure we would be swampedin the bay made celebrated by song and story, or else be compelled tocharter a companion boat to share our cargo--there are so many things Isee that could be made useful among the wretched people just escapingfrom Spanish rule, and these Irish storekeepers one and all, must havehad an intimate acquaintance with the Blarney stone, they have suchengaging ways and a burning desire to accumulate Uncle Sam's coin. Thisis an era of good feeling--of hands across the sea--Brother John andBrother Jonathan, and they all want to be in it as deep as possible.However, I think I am actually done. It would be impossible to acceptall they offer."

  So the purchasing agency went reluctantly out of commission.

  Even the owner of millions must draw the line somewhere.

  Roderic was not to be seen at luncheon, although Cleo purposelylingered over the meal, hoping he would turn up.

  Jerome was there, handsome as ever, and apparently much sought after bya designing lady mother from Chicago who possessed two plain girls of amarriageable age.

  No doubt they believed him a marquis, or at the very least connectedwith some noble family anxious to make a "connection" with pork.

  These things happen frequently, and there really seems no
remedy--themarket is there and the goods offered for sale. Occasionally a genuinelove match occurs which redounds to the credit of Old England and YoungAmerica; but for the most part they are cut and dried affairs enteredinto for position on one side and gold on the other. Such unions arebeneath contempt.

  Jerome bowed and smiled in his usual affable manner, and Cleo answeredhim just as though she had not been informed of his dark schemes.

  This matter of fact young woman had traveled far and wide--she hadrubbed up against all manner of people, and long since ceased to beexcessively surprised at anything.

  Wellington was simply carrying out the business for which nature hadendowed him.

  There were many people gifted with more money than brains--the reversewas true in his case, and he amused himself by endeavoring to bringabout a more evenly balanced condition of affairs, to his pecuniaryadvantage, of course.

  Cleo could even find something to admire about his bold piratical wayof living by his wits--at least he had more of the man about him thanmost of the petted darlings of society on both sides of the Atlanticwho fawned upon her in a sickly sentimental way from precisely the samesinister motives that influenced Wellington's bold attacks.

  Let these parvenu mammas with daughters to sell pay the penalty fortheir sin.

  As the day wore on and she saw nothing of Roderic she began to feel alittle worried.

  Could harm have befallen him?

  She knew the unscrupulous character of those elements which he usuallypitted his powers against.

  Perhaps Wellington, that suave deluder, not one whit discouraged by hisfirst failure, had promptly opened his secondary batteries.

  Still, it seemed almost ridiculous to believe harm could have befallena sensible man like Roderic in the open streets of Dublin while the sunwas shining.

  Had it been Algiers, Constantinople, Pekin or some city of mysteriousIndia, the case would have appeared far more serious, for uncannythings are liable to occur in such Oriental marts at any hour of theday or night.

  As evening drew on apace she found herself watching the doorway beyondwhich lay the calm square known as St. Stephens' Green.

  Her captain had come ashore for a comparison of ideas, and was stillwith her, since Cleo desired him to meet her cousin.

  They would see much of each other during the voyage, and sheparticularly desired to bring about the meeting of two congenial souls.

  Dinner passed.

  Still no Roderic.

  She confided her fears in part to the captain.

  The worthy seadog was able to wrestle with any perplexing problem thatmight assail them afloat, but when it came to mastering the wiles aptto beset a man's path ashore he confessed his ignorance.

  Nothing could be done--they must wait till a sign of some kind wasgiven.

  That was the exasperating part, for Cleo was naturally a girl ofdecided action.

  An hour crept by since dinner--two of them, and it was now drawing nearten o'clock.

  No one entered the door but that Cleo's eyes were instantly upon them,and disappointment had as yet been the only result.

  She endeavored to be her own lively self but it required a great effort.

  Roderic might be in danger, but somehow she was possessed of theidea that it was more from a pair of midnight eyes than a murderousstiletto, for Cleo could not forget the face she had seen, the lovelyoriginal of her photograph, who was even now in Dublin.

  Was her power of enchantment over Roderic still unbroken--could shedraw him to her even after an absence of two years--had the bar thatseparated them been cast aside?

  How these questions flashed before her eyes and seemed burned upon herbrain like coals of fire. She suffered intensely, but the bluff old seadog never knew it--indeed he believed her to be unusually brilliant,her wit was so keen and her suggestions as to their coming voyage soremarkably clever.

  She dreaded the thought of having to retire in this state ofuncertainty.

  The hour drew on--it neared eleven, and the ladies had whollydisappeared.

  Then Cleo suddenly gave a sigh of relief, for her eager eyes haddiscovered his well known figure entering the front door of the hotel.

  She noted instantly that he looked disturbed, and that his usuallynatty appearance was lacking--and practical Cleo knew Roderic had beenthrough an adventure. Half rising as she beckoned to him, she awaitedhis coming with breathless impatience.