Waverley Library (Octavo Edition) (no. 37) (1885 02 03)
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8 not, so she gave herself up to the full enjoy- ment of her dream, undisturbed by visions of Dorrance’s disloyalty, feeling herself blessed among women because he had told her how he loved her. He had sworn to her how precious she was to him; and then, feeling secure be- cause their stations in life lay so far apart, had one direct to Florence Arbuthnot and sued for | er hand! ; He loved—if such selfish and unprincipled men can experience the emotion—I say he loved sweet Florence far the best. vanity was delicious] enceeshown him by Gussie Palliser; and, Flor- ence failing him, he was not adverse to marry- | ing the other. As far as the money was concerned, Florence was, on that score, less acceptable in her lack of riches, than Gussie with her snug fortune. And he loved Florence a thousand-fold the best, he said, even as he walked up the circu lar path that led to Lakeview, whose dozens of lighted windows gave evidence of Gussie’s own bright presence. He went to her with lies on his lips, while she wore a ring he had given her; he kissed her for a welcome, wondering what she would say if she knew; and then like a reve- lation it flashed across bim that he had been a consummate fool to have gone to Chessom’s Pride as he did, avowing his interest in Florence Ar- buthnot, and Gussie going there so soon, when she surely would learn all. But he consoled himself with the thought that all might be de- cided before Gussie went to Chessom’s Pride. If his plans worked, as he hoped they would work, Florence would be his own before Arch Chessom could tell Gussie of his perfidy. And so intent were his thoughts, that more than once Gussie tapped his cheek with her fan, and offered a penny tor his meditations. CHAPTER V. THE BEGINNING OF WRATH. Gussiz PALLISER never looked more regally than she did that night; and Mr, Dorrance, as he noted the short, boyish curls of sunny brown To be sure, his | flattered by the prefer- | THE WINGED MESSENGER. Tt had happened curiously, and yet the finger of Fate could be plainly discerned. After Ellis Dorrance had bade her good-night, and had got as far as the fountain, Gussie sud- denly remembered a message she had particu- larly desired to tell him. Snatching a shawl from the hat-rack in the corridor, she had flown after him; there, just where a large evergreen tree had interposed be- tween them, she had heard the mysterious salu- tations exchanged between Dorrance and the stranger. What was more natural than that her love and jealousy should be outraged and inflamed when she heard her betrothed husband discuss- ing the subject of another lady’s receiving a letter from him, and he awaiting the answer? Gussie Palliser was a person of strong pas- sions; one who could love as few women do, and | hate, despise, as well. At first, as she heard the words that struck a sickening chill to her heart, she had ee a pang of agony, because she loved Ellis Dor- rance so well, and the thought of losing him was death to her, Then, as his cool, cautious tones continued, she wondered who it was that had won him from her, So, when Dorrance walked on, her first im- —— was to stop him, and demand what she ew was her just right to know. Buta sec- ond’s thought told her to find out for herself, and so she walked noiselessly on, twenty yards behind him, with wild fires surging in her veins. For a moment, as sbe gazed after his tall, handsome figure, she verily believed she want- ed to kill him for his falseness; a keen desire to punish him to the fullest extent of her power— and her dark, clouded face wore a strange smile as she thought how little he, or any one, knew her power, the power a passionate, reckless, jealous temper gives into its possessor’s hands. It was a long walk from Lakeview to the end of the village where Florence Arbuthnot lived | and the snow was cold under her feet. But Gussie kept on, never regarding the time hair that clustered around ber shapely head, and | or the distance—only wondering how Ellis Dor- saw the dusky splendor of her black eyes as the fairly scintillated with merriment, wondered if, beneath that gay, joyous exterior, was a heart | whose vengeance he would dread to encounter when he proved false to her; and then he wished he had never seen her, or else had never known Florence Arbuthnot. He bade her adieu early, and at the gate held a hurried consultation with a rusty-looking man awaiting him. “Well, Palmer, did she get the letter? Did you see the man leave it?” “With my own eyes; and if you want the answer to it, the sooner you are on the grounds the better.” ‘**Then you hasten back, and if Iam not there in time, attend toit yourself.” Dorrance sauntered slowly along, not desiring to attract even chance attention by undue haste in leaving the grounds of Lakeview; so he | lighted a cigar, and walked leisurely along, all unconscious of the presence of Gussie Palliser, as she followed bim, rapidly walking to keep pace with his longer strides. rance could be so treacherous; he, whom she had exalted to agod among men; and compres - sing her red lips as she thought how dearly he should suffer if he had dared trifle with her. At the corner Dorrance quickened his steps; and then, when he had reached the sidewalk di- rectly opposite the residence of the Arbuthnots, he paused and steadily regarded the light win- dows of Florence’s room. The moon was going down, but it was light; oon on account of the snow; so that Gussie, rom her post of jealous observation—a tree- box, just around the corner, where she might have stood in the broad sunlight and never have been observed—could watch every play of Dor- rance’s features, as he gazed at the gleami windows. Directly the gas was arnt off; an then Gussie saw a young girl come to the win- dow, raise the sash and look out. Dorrance was earnestly watching her, a half-audible exclama- tion on his lips; and Gussie, her beart perpen wildly, made up her mind that this fair-fa girl was the one who had robbed her of all she ' held dear.
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