Dainty's Cruel Rivals; Or, The Fatal Birthday
already, and I thought it a pity to show your heart to a man so
plainly," gibed her tormentor, viciously.
"You were mistaken, Ela. I never thought of loving him, and I hope he
did not think so," cried the proud child, fearfully.
"There's no telling what he thought. Men are very, very vain, and
believe that every girl who gives them a glance is in love with them. I
suppose Love Ellsworth is like the rest; and, rich as he is, I have no
doubt he is a terrible flirt. But there comes a carriage load of young
people, and perhaps you and I may catch a beau, too, Dainty; for Olive
seems to have captured Love," glancing toward her cousin, who was indeed
holding the young man in unwilling chains, while she lamented that her
cousin Dainty was the most arrant little coward in the world, and always
going into hysterics over some trifle, so that she and Ela had been
very sorry she was invited to Ellsworth, feeling sure that her vagaries
would cause dear Aunt Judith no end of trouble.
But in a minute he had to leave her side to welcome the newcomers--three
young men and one girl--which paired the party into four couples; and
after introductions all around, Dainty found that Love Ellsworth had
fallen to her lot; whether by chance or his own design, she could not
tell.
They went down to the golf ground, and played for an hour; but Ellsworth
found his fair companion very shy and _distrait_ all the while; and when
at last they all sat down beneath the trees to rest, he asked,
anxiously:
"Are you offended with me, that you seem so cold and quiet?"
The wistful blue eyes turned gravely on his face.
"I thought you were offended with me, because of last night; you looked
so angry while I was telling you of my scare," she answered, timidly.
"Angry with you, child? How could any one have the heart?" he cried. "I
was angry, I own, but it was because I believed that some of the
servants had played a cruel joke on you. But I have ordered a strict
investigation, and if the plot is discovered, the guilty parties shall
certainly suffer."
"Oh, if I could think it only a joke; but it seemed so terribly real!"
she breathed, tremblingly; and he longed to catch her in his arms and
kiss away her fears.
But the proprieties forbid this soothing process; so he hastened to
assure her that it could not possibly be real, only a trick of some
malicious person, who would certainly be discovered and punished.
"And now, Dainty," he said--"may I call you Dainty?" he added,
tenderly; for she had looked up with a start.
She faltered, "Yes," and he proceeded in a low voice thrilling with
passion:
"Dainty, you told me your story of last night, now I will tell you mine.
When I opened my door at your frenzied knock, and you fell fainting into
my arms, I longed to hold you there forever; for, darling, I lost my
heart to you even before I saw your bonny face, as soon as I heard your
sweet voice sobbing to your mother, inside the window, of the cruel
treatment of your jealous cousins. When I came into the parlor, and saw
you with the tears in your lovely eyes, I thought you fairer than any
flower, and longed to kiss your tears away. All the way to Ellsworth I
was longing to tell you that I loved you so I could not live without
you, and that you must promise to be my cherished bride. Can you believe
in a love so sudden and sweet and overwhelming as this I am confessing
to you?"
"Yes, oh, yes!" the girl murmured, forgetting Ela's caution, that he
must very likely be a dreadful flirt, and carried away by the fervor of
his passion, and the responsiveness of her own heart.
Oh, what a beautiful light of joy leaped to his eyes at her encouraging
reply!
"Bless you, my darling, bless you! Then our hearts have leaped to meet
each other. You will promise to be mine?" he cried, eagerly, his glad
eyes beaming on her face, the only demonstration of love possible under
the circumstances, for they were in plain view of all the other couples.
She trembled with exquisite delight, sweet Dainty, and could not reply
for a moment.
"Answer, darling," he pleaded. "Will you be mine? If you are too shy to
speak, look at me with those tender blue eyes, and I will read my fate."
Slowly, bashfully, the long fringe of her lashes fluttered upward, and
the glorious blue met the passionate dark ones in a long, lingering look
that needed no words to tell of the love that thrilled either heart with
deathless emotion; and he was content. He had won the prize.
CHAPTER VII.
"THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT."
"Your roses are fading in the hot sunshine, dear. Let us get some fresh
ones," said Love to Dainty, anxious to draw her out of sight of the
others, that he might seal their betrothal with a lover's kiss.
They moved away toward the rose-garden, followed by the angry, envious
glances of Olive and Ela, who hated Dainty with jealous hate, now that
they saw how little all their arts had availed to change her lover.
But Love and Dainty had forgotten their existence. They were in Arcady.
--"Love must kiss that mortal's eyes
Who hopes to see fair Arcady,
No gold can buy your entrance there,
But beggared Love may go all bare--
No wisdom won with weariness;
But Love goes in with Folly's dress--
No fame that wit could ever win,
But only Love may lead Love in;
To Arcady, to Arcady."
All around them the flowers bloomed in lavish profusion; the tender-eyed
pansies, the golden-hearted lilies, the fragrant roses, shaking out
perfume on the warm summer air, while the bees and the butterflies
hurried from flower to flower, and overhead the blue sky of June smiled
on the happy lovers--so happy, dreaming not of the darkened future.
Where some luxuriant shrubbery formed a convenient screen, Love drew
Dainty aside, crying, ardently:
"I am dying to kiss you, my own little darling! May I?"
Without waiting for consent, he clasped her in his arms, and kissed her
lips again and again, with the ardor of the honey-bee rifling the
flowers of their sweets, till she struggled bashfully from him, crying:
"But the roses!"
"Come, then, we will get them;" and they sauntered on along the graveled
path in a sort of silent ecstacy, until suddenly Dainty recoiled with a
horrified cry:
"Oh, see that hideous viper!"
Love looked down and saw a large viper crawling across their path, its
hideous head upraised in defiance, hissing venomously at their advance.
"See how angry it is! What a wicked glare in its eyes! See how its red
forked tongue darts at us in rage! Oh, is it not an evil omen to our
love?" half sobbed Dainty, drawing back and regarding the serpent with
fearful interest mixed with unwilling fascination.
"Stand aside, darling, and I will make short work of the evil omen!"
Love answered, gayly, as with two sharp blows of the racquet he carried
in his hand he destroyed the ominous intruder on their peace, and kicked
it aside, saying, soothingly: "Take that as an omen, darling, that I
will always thrust aside whatever interferes between us and happiness."
"Oh, you are so strong, so brave! I am not afraid of anything while you
are with me!" Dainty cried, clinging to the arm of her bold, handsome
lover, who smiled on her so lovingly as he gathered the beautiful roses
to replace those he had sent her that morning, and that were now
withering at her waist.
He took some of the fading flowers, kissed them, and placed them very
carefully in his pocket-book, saying:
"I will always keep them in memory of the happiest day of my life!"
Dainty's heart thrilled with joy at the words; then she shuddered at the
thought of how angry Olive and Ela would be because he loved her so
well.
"Perhaps they will hate me, although I have not done them any wrong. I
did not make him love me. It was God put it into his heart. But I can
guess how they will sneer and say I was bold and forward, trying to get
a rich husband. I wish he were poor--almost as poor as I am--so that I
could tell them I love him for himself alone, which is true, though they
will pretend never to believe it, in their jealous spite," ran her
perturbed thoughts; for she could not get Olive and Ela quite out of her
mind.
The dread of their spite and anger trailed its venom through her
happiness as the hideous viper had trailed across the sunny path, making
her cry out that it was evil-omened. Alas! that spite and jealousy were
destined to work her as deadly ill as the serpent's fangs.
It was this subtle dread tugging at Dainty's heart-strings that made her
murmur wistfully, as they retraced their steps:
"Let us keep our secret awhile yet, lest Olive and Ela should say I was
too easily won."
"What do you care for their opinion!" cried her lover, disdainfully.
"Oh, but you do not know how cruel they would be, what cutting things
they would say to me!" she cried.
And he laughed.
"Dainty, I believe you are an arrant coward, after all, as your cousin
Olive told me this morning."
"Did she say so?"--angrily, the blue eyes flashing.
"Yes; she said you were the most cowardly girl on earth--afraid of your
own shadow--and always in hysterics over something, so that she and Ela
were sorry you came, dreading that you would annoy your aunt."
"Oh, it is false!" she cried, indignantly. "She only said it to turn
your heart against me. And I--I will show her after this whether I am a
coward or not!"
"That is right, my little sweetheart. I adore bravery in women, and I
want you to prove Olive's story false," he cried, encouragingly; adding:
"Of course, if you wish to keep our engagement secret awhile, I will
consent to it; but it seems rather cruel to two of our visitors, who are
already palpably jealous of me. But I warn you, Dainty, not to flirt
with them, for I am the most jealous of men."
"You need not be afraid of me. I can think of no one but you, dear
Love!" she whispered, with the loveliest blush in the world.
They rejoined their companions, and Love forced himself to obey the
demands of conventionality by showing some attention to the other
guests; but his heart was not in his courtesies. He could think only of
the bonny sweetheart he had won by such headlong wooing.
"And it is only yesterday that I saw her first, my darling!" he mused,
tenderly. "It was love at first sight with us both, it seems, and I take
that for a sure sign that Heaven intended us for each other."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ELLSWORTH HONOR.
"Of all that life can teach us,
There's naught so true as this:
The winds of Fate blow ever,
But ever blow amiss."
Since the world began there was never a truer, sweeter love, nor one
that promised more fairly, but, alas! none over which threatening clouds
of Fate ever hung more darkly.
Two weeks passed away, and the lovers kept the secret of their
engagement with difficulty, for Love was passionately anxious to show
his happiness to the whole world.
But Dainty's shrinking from her cousins' comments made her hold her
lover to the compact of silence, hoping by delay to win from them more
kindly thoughts.
And yet every one could see the handsome young pair were in love with
each other.
They could no more hide their mutual tenderness than they could help
breathing. Their glances turned so often to each other, their smiles
were so tender, their voices had so soft a cadence when they called each
other's names, that every one could guess the passion of their hearts.
Ellsworth and the surrounding neighborhood had been very gay the past
few weeks.
Dances and picnics, moonlight rides and tea parties, all varied the
programme, and contributed to the pleasure of Mrs. Ellsworth's beautiful
nieces.
Dainty, even in her simple gowns and hats, was the beauty of every