CHAPTER XXII.
CLAIRE'S LOVER.
During the dinner that followed Kendale longed to introduce the subjectof "Faynie," but found no opening. His eagerness to know what theythought and what they had to say concerning her disappearance wasintense, but he had to bide his time to find out.
Meanwhile he paid the most flattering attention to Claire.
He had noticed with a keen sense of regret that the girl limped mostpainfully in her walk, but, despite this defect, for the first time inhis reckless life, he was thoroughly fascinated with her.
He took his leave early, promising them that he would certainly availhimself of their gracious permission to call again, very, very soon.
Long after his departure the mother and daughter still sat in thedrawing-room discussing him eagerly.
"It is a good thing for you that Faynie declines to come down to thedrawing-room to see visitors and insists upon having her meals in herown room. If she had seen this handsome Mr. Armstrong, you would havestood little chance of winning him, my dear," declared Mrs. Fairfax.
Claire rose slowly to her feet, turned and faced her mother.
"You and I do not agree on that point, mamma," she said, quickly, "Ihave what you call a Quixotic notion, perhaps, and that is that we areattracted toward those whom Heaven intended for us, and if this be so hewould not have been attracted toward Faynie if he were intended for me."
"We will not argue the matter, Claire, for we shall never agree,"declared her mother, adding: "I shall always be opposed to Mr. Armstrongmeeting Faynie or ever hearing one word concerning the existence of sucha person. If he should, mind, I predict harm will come of it."
Those were the words that rang in Claire's ears long after she retiredto her room.
"I shall tell Faynie that we had a caller last evening and how handsomehe was; but I shall take good care to follow mamma's advice and neverlet her know his name," the girl ruminated.
She was only a young girl, full of girlish enthusiasm, and it wascertainly beyond human expectation to believe she could refrain frommentioning that much to Faynie the next morning.
Faynie laid a little white hand on Claire's nut-brown head.
"Take care not to fall too deeply in love with this handsome stranger,"she said, "for handsome men are not always good and true as they seem."
"I am sure this gentleman is," declared impulsive Claire emphatically."He has the deepest, richest, mellowest voice I ever heard, and sucheyes--wine dark eyes--those are the only words which seem to expresswhat they are like--and when he takes your hand and looks down into yourface, the hand he holds so lightly tingles from the finger tips straightto your heart."
"I am afraid he has been holding your hand, Claire. Ah, takecare--beware!" warned Faynie.
During the fortnight that followed Kendale was a constant visitor at thepalatial Fairfax home.
And those two weeks changed the whole after current of Claire's life, asFaynie observed with wonder. It was certainly evident the girl wasdeeply in love, and Faynie trembled for her, for love would bring tosuch natures as hers the greatest peace or the bitterest sorrow.
She wondered if her stepmother saw how affairs were drifting.
If it had not been that she and her stepmother were always atcross-purposes with each other, she would have gone to her and warnedher that it was dangerous to throw this handsome young man so often intoClaire's society, unless she could readily see that he was pleased withthe girl--realizing that poor Claire had a sad drawback in her lamenessand that many would seek her society because she was bright and witty,who would never dream of asking her hand in marriage because of it.
Once she attempted to warn Claire of the hidden rocks that lay in love'socean, but the girl turned quickly a white, pained face toward her.
"Say no more, Faynie," she cried; "the mischief, as you call it, hasalready been done. My heart has left me and gone to him. If I do not winhim I shall die. You know the words:
"Some hold that love is a foolish thing, A thing of little worth; But little or great, or weak or strong. 'Tis love that rules the earth.
"The tale is new, yet ever told; It has often been breathed ere now--- 'There was a lad who loved a lass'-- 'Tis old as the world, I trow!
"The song I sing has been sung before, And will often again be sung While lads and lasses have lips to kiss, Or bard a tuneful tongue.
"And this is the burden of my rhyme-- Though love be of little worth, Yet from pole to pole and shore to shore, 'Tis love that rules the earth."
"And it is love that breaks hearts and wrecks lives," murmured Faynie,with streaming eyes and quivering lips. "Oh, Claire! again I warn you totake care--beware!"
For one brief moment she was tempted to tell Claire her own story.
Ah, had she but done so, how much misery might have been spared thehapless girl! But she put the impulse from her with a shudder.
No, no, she could not breathe to human ears the story of her false loverand the tragedy that had ended her dream of love.
She had never permitted her thoughts to dwell upon Lester Armstrongsince that fatal night.
If there were times when she thought of him as when she knew him first,seemingly so loving, tender and true, she put the thought quickly fromher, remembering him as she saw him that fatal night--transformedsuddenly into a demon by strong drink, when he struck her down uponfinding that she had just been disinherited--that she was not theheiress that he had taken her to be.
He thought his crime buried fathoms deep under the drifting snow heaps.Ah, how great would be his terror to find that the grave to which he hadconsigned her had given her back to the world of the living! No, no, shecould not shock Claire's young ears with that horrible story!
It would be bad enough for her to learn of it in after years.
Thus Faynie settled the matter in her own mind, and her lips weresealed.
One morning Claire burst eagerly into the room, quite as soon as it waslight.
"I was here late last night, but you were asleep, Faynie," she said,"and I came away, though I could scarcely wait to tell you the wonderfulnews."
"I think I can guess what it is," replied Faynie, stroking the girl'sbrown curls, "Your lover has declared his love for you and asked you tobe his wife. Is it not so?"
"You know it could be nothing else which could make me so very, veryhappy," laughed Claire, her cheeks reddening.
"And you have answered--yes?" asked Faynie.
"Of course I said yes," responded Claire.
"And when is the wedding to take place?" queried Faynie, hoping with allher heart that this lover of whom the girl was so desperately fond lovedClaire for herself--not for the wealth she had fallen heir to.
Claire raised her bright, blushing face shyly, the dimples coming andgoing, making her rather plain little face almost beautiful at thatmoment.
"Mamma wanted the marriage put off for a year--I am so young--but Lesterwas so impatient that he would consent to no such arrangement. He wantsthe ceremony performed with as little delay as is absolutely necessary."
"Lester!" The name went through Faynie's heart like the thrust of aknife.
For an instant every nerve in her body seemed to tremble and throb withquick, spasmodic pain, then to stand still as though the chill of deathwere creeping over her. Her eyes grew dim with an awful darkness, andClaire's voice seemed far off and indistinct. Then the world faded fromher altogether and she fell at Claire's feet all in a little heap, in adead swoon.
Mischievous Maid Faynie Page 22
