CHAPTER II
GRAYDON MUIR
Madge Alden was almost seventeen, and yet she was in many respectsa child. Scenes portrayed in books had passed before her mind likepictures, having no definite significance. Mr. Muir was to her likesome of the forces in nature--quiet, unobtrusive, omnipotent--and sheaccepted him without thought. Her sister was one whom she couldlove easily as a matter of course. She was an indulgent householdprovidence, who cared for the young girl as she did for her own littlechildren. If anything was amiss in Madge's wardrobe the elder sistermade it right at once; if Madge had a real or imaginary ailment, Marywas always ready to prescribe a soothing remedy; and if there wasa cloud in the sky or the wind blew chill she said, "Madge, do beprudent; you know how easily you take cold." Thus was provided thehot-house atmosphere in which the tender exotic existed. It could notbe said that she had thrived or bloomed.
Graydon Muir was the one positive element with which she had come incontact, and thus far she had always accepted him in the spirit of achild. He had begun petting her and treating her like a sister whenshe was a child. His manner toward her had grown into a habit, whichhad its source in his kindly disposition. To him she was but a weak,sickly little girl, with a dismal present and a more dreary outlook.Sometimes he mentally compared her with the brilliant girls he met insociety, and especially with one but a little older than Madge, whoappeared a natural queen in the drawing-room. His life abounded inactivity, interests, and pleasures, and if it was his impulse to throwa little zest into the experiences of those in society who had noclaims upon him, he was still more disposed to cheer and amuse theinvalid in his own home. Moreover, he had become sincerely fond ofher. Madge was neither querulous nor stupid. Although not conceited,he had the natural vanity of a handsome and successful man, and whilethe evident fact that he was such a hero in her eyes amused him, italso predisposed him to kindly and sympathetic feeling toward her.He saw that she gave him not only a sisterly allegiance, but also aricher and fuller tribute, and that in her meagre and shadowed life hewas the brightest element. She tried to do more for him than for anyone else, while she made him feel that as an invalid she could not dovery much, and that he should not expect it. She would often playfor him an hour at a time, and again she would be so languid that nocoaxing could lure her from the sofa. Occasionally she would even readaloud a few pages with her musical and sympathetic voice, but wouldsoon throw down the book with an air of exhaustion, and plead that hewould read to her. In her weakness there was nothing repulsive, andwithout calculation she made many artless appeals to his strength. Hegenerously responded, saying to himself, "Poor little thing! she hasa hard time of it. With her great black eyes she might be a beauty ifshe only had health and was like other girls; but as it is, she is solight and pale and limp that I sometimes feel as if I were petting awraith."
Of late she had begun to go out with him a little, he choosingsmall and quiet companies among people well known to the Muirs, andoccasionally her sister also went. Her role of invalid was carefullymaintained and recognized. Graydon had always prided himself on hisloyalty as an escort; and as long as he was devoted, the neglect ofother young men was welcomed rather than regretted; for, except towardhim, all her old shyness still existed. With the consciousness that hewas caring for her she was well content with some half-secluded nookof observation, from which she looked out upon scenes that were likean animated story. She wove fanciful imaginings around those whoattracted her attention, and on her return laughingly discussedthe people who had passed, like players, before her eyes. Graydonencouraged her to do this, for her ignorance of society made herremarks original and amusing. He knew the conventional status of everyone they met as accurately as his brother recognized the commercialvalue of the securities that passed under his eye, and Madge'sestimates often seemed absurd to the last degree.
Whenever she went out with Graydon his course was eminentlysatisfactory; she never felt herself neglected, while at the same timeshe saw that his attentions were welcomed everywhere. She never losther serene sense of proprietorship, and only grew more fond of him asshe noted how readily he left the side of beautiful and gifted womento look after her. He had often laughingly asserted that he went intosociety only for amusement, and his course under her own observationconfirmed his words.
Early in the winter during which our story opens, she had caught asuccession of colds, and one proved so severe and obstinate that herfriends were alarmed, fearing that she was going into a decline. Sheslowly rallied, however, but was more frail than ever. Before the gayseason closed, just preceding Lent, Madge received an invitation to avery large party. Graydon urged her to go, remarking that she hadnot yet seen society. "Don't be afraid, I'll take care of you, littleghost," he said, and with this assurance she accompanied him, contraryto her sister's advice. It was indeed a brilliant occasion. The widerooms of a Madison Avenue palace were thronged, and she had never evenimagined such toilets as caught her eye on every side. There wereso many present that she could easily maintain her position of quietspectator, and her eyes dilated with pleasure as she saw that Graydonwas as much a leader as at other places where comparatively few werepresent.
At last her attention was attracted by one who was evidently a latecomer, and whose presence appeared to fill the apartment. All theothers paled before her, as do the stars when the moon rises amongthem. She was evidently young, and yet she did not suggest youth. Onewould almost imagine that she had never had a childhood or a girlhood,but was rather a direct creation of metropolitan society. Herexquisitely turned shoulders and arms were bare, and the diamondsabout her neck were a circlet of fire. The complexion of her fair ovalface was singularly pure, and the color came and went so easily as toprove that it owed nothing to art. The expression of her gray eyes wasrather cold and haughty when at rest, and gave an impression of prideand the consciousness of power. The trait which to the observantMadge seemed most marked at first, however, was her perfect ease. Herslightest movement was grace itself. Her entire self-possession wasindicated by the manner in which she greeted the men who sought herattention, and many there were. She could be perfectly polite, yetas repellent as ice, or she could smile with a fascination that evenMadge felt would be hard to resist. This girl, who was such an immensecontrast to herself, wholly fixed her attention as she stood for a fewmoments, like a queen, surrounded by her courtiers.
Graydon had gone for a glass of water, and meeting a friend had beendetained for a brief space. Madge saw him coming, saw his eye light upwith admiration as he caught sight of the beautiful stranger, but hecame directly to her, and asked, genially, if there was anything elseshe would like.
"Yes. Who is that girl yonder?"
"Miss Wildmere. Isn't she lovely? She promised me, last week, herfirst dance for this evening. Will you excuse me for a little while?"
"Certainly;" and yet she was conscious of a sudden and odd littleprotest at heart.
He approached the beauty. Miss Wildmere's face flushed with pleasureand softened into a welcoming smile, such as she had not yet bestowedupon any who had sought her favor. Then, in swift alternation, shebent upon Madge a brief, cold glance of scrutiny. So brief was it, andso complacent was the expression of the belle as she turned away, thatthe pallid, sensitive girl was told, as by words, "You are nothing."
That glance was like a sharp, deep wound, and pierced where shewas most vulnerable. It said to her, "You are not capable of beinganything to Graydon Muir. I am not in the least afraid of you."
What was she to him? What did she wish to be? To these questions Madgehad but one answer. Any and every girl, in her belief, would be onlytoo glad to win him. He had said that Miss Wildmere was lovely; hiseyes had expressed an admiration which he had never bestowed upon her;he had led the beauty away with a glad content in his face, and thecrowded room was made empty by their absence.
She was no longer conscious of weakness, but, obeying her impulse,sprang up and followed them to the ballroom. Concealed by a littlegroup she stood, un
wearied, and watched them as they glided hither andthither with a grace that attracted many eyes. The music appeared tocontrol and animate them, and their motion was harmony itself. Graydonevidently thought only of his fair partner; but her swift glances wereeverywhere, gathering the rich revenue of admiration which was freelyoffered. For a second she encountered Madge's large black eyes, fullof trouble, and a satirical smile proved that she enjoyed the poorgirl's solicitude. To deepen it she looked up at Graydon and saidsomething that caused his face to flush with pleasure. His responsewas more decisive, for the swift color came into her face, and hereyes drooped. The by-play was momentary, and would not have beenseen by a less vigilant observer than Madge; but to her it gave theundoubted impression that they were lovers. When Miss Wildmere lookedagain to see the result of her unkindly strategy, Madge was gone.
In reaction she had grown almost faint, and reached her former retreatwith difficulty. But all her latent womanhood speedily rallied tomeet this strange and but half-comprehended emergency. The impulse nowuppermost was to retain her self-control and reach the seclusion ofher own room. How she was to endure the long hours she scarcely knew.She did not dare to think. Indeed, the effort was scarcely possible,for her mind was at first in tumult, with only one thing clear, apoignant sense of loss and trouble.
Graydon was a long time away, longer than he had ever been before whenacting as her escort. While she felt this neglect, and interpreted itnaturally, she was not sorry. She dreaded meeting him again. In onebrief hour her old ease and freedom with him had gone. She wondered atthe change in herself, yet knew that it was as definite and decided asif she had become another person. When be had brought her the glassof water she could look into his face with the frank directness of achild. Why could she not do so now? Why did she almost tremble at thethought of his glance, his touch, his presence? She knew that he wouldcome back with his old genial, kindly manner--that he would bethe same. But a change had occurred in her which made the fabledtransmutations of magic wands seem superficial indeed. Would he notethis change? Could he guess the cause? Oh, what _was_ the cause? Evenher pale face grew crimson, for there are truths that come to theconsciousness like the lightning from heaven. She did not need tothink, to weigh and reason. A woman's heart is often above and beyondher reason, and hers had been awakened at last by the all-powerfultouch of love.
The time passed, and still Graydon did not come. He was not absentvery long, and yet it began to seem terribly long to her. She hadoverrated her powers, and found that even pride could not sustain her.She had no reserve of strength to draw upon. The heat of the room grewoppressive, and she was unaccustomed to throngs, confusion, and noise.The consciousness of her weakness was forced upon her most painfullyat last by the appearance of Miss Wildmere on Graydon's arm. Thebelle was smiling, radiant, her step elastic, her eyes shining withexcitement and pleasure. Her practiced scrutiny had assured her thatshe was the queen of the hour; the handsomest and most courtly manpresent was so devoted as to suggest that he might easily become alover; she had seen many glances of envy, and one, in the case of poorMadge, of positive pain. What more could her heart desire? Graydonconducted her to her chaperon, near whom half a dozen gentlemen werewaiting for a chance to be his successor; and, having obtainedher promise for another dance later in the evening, he turneddeprecatingly to Madge. His apologies ceased before they were halfspoken. She looked so white and ill that he was alarmed, and askedpermission to get her a glass of wine.
"No, Graydon," she said, then hesitated, for she felt the color cominginto her face, while a strange blur confused every object in the room."I'm very, very sorry," she added, hastily, after a moment. "I oughtnot to have come. I'm not equal to this. It wouldn't take you verylong to drive home with me, and then you could return. Please,Graydon."
Her tone was so urgent, and she appeared so weak, that he complied atonce, saying, with much compunction, "I should not have left you aloneso long, but supposed you were amusing yourself by looking at thepeople."
She did not trust herself to reply. Her one thought was to reach therefuge of her own apartment, and to this end she concentrated herfailing energies. The climb to the ladies' dressing-room was adesperate effort; but when she was once outside the house the cold,pure air revived her slightly.
"You can excuse me to our hostess--she will not care," she faltered,and it seemed to her then that nobody would care. Miss Wildmere'sglance had conveyed the estimate of society. If she could believeherself first in Graydon's thoughts she would not be cast down, butnow the truth was overwhelming.
She leaned away from him in the corner of the carriage, but he put hisstrong arm round her and drew her to his breast. She tried to resist,but was powerless. Then came the torturing thought, "If I repelhim--if I act differently--he will guess the reason," and she waspassive; but he felt her slight form tremble.
"My poor little ghost, you are ill in very truth! I'm indeed sorrythat I left you so long."
"Believe me, Graydon, I am ill. Please let that excuse me and explain.Oh, that I--I were strong, like Miss Wildmere!"
"Isn't she a beauty?" exclaimed the unconscious Graydon. "The man whowins her might well be proud, for he would have competitors by thescore."
"Your chances seem excellent," said Madge, in a low tone.
He laughed complacently, but added: "You don't know these societybelles. They can show a great deal of favor to more than one fellow,yet never permit themselves to be pinned by a definite promise. Theyare harder to catch and hold than a wild Bedouin; but such a girl asMiss Wildmere is worth the effort. Yes, Madge, I do wish you were likeher. It would be grand sport to champion you in society and see yourun amuck among the fellows. It's a thousand pities that you are suchan invalid. I've thought more than once that you were designed to be abeauty. With your eyes and Stella Wildmere's health you would be quiteas effective after your style as she is in hers. Never mind, littlesister, I shall stand by you, and as long as I live you shall alwayshave a luxurious sofa, with all the novels of the northern hemisphereat your command. Who knows? You may grow strong one of these days.When you do I'll pick out the nice fellows for you."
At every kindly word her heart grew heavier, and when the carriagestopped at their door she could hardly mount the steps. In the hallshe faltered and caught the hat-rack for support. He lifted her inhis arms and bore her easily to her room, her sister following in muchsolicitude. "It's nothing," said Madge; "the company was too large andexciting for me. There was no need of Graydon's carrying me upstairs,but he would do it."
"You poor dear!" began her sister, broodingly. "I feared it would beso. Graydon is made of iron, and will never realize how delicate youare."
"He's very kind, and more considerate than I deserve. As he says," sheadded, bitterly, "I'm nothing but a ghost, and had better vanish."
"Nonsense, Madge," said the young man, with brusque kindness. "Youknow I want you to haunt me always. Good-by now, little sister. Ishall be _de trop_ if I stay any longer. You'll be better in themorning, and to-morrow evening I'll remain home and entertain you."
A Young Girl's Wooing Page 2
