Lillian's vow or, The mystery of Raleigh House
papa may object--I--I shall marry him anyway! I am of age, fortunately.”
And then there flitted through her brain the thought of poverty, even
though genteel poverty, with the man she loved, and her heart grew
faint and sick within her breast.
“I could not bear to be poor!” she muttered, with a shudder of
aversion. “I just could not endure it.”
And she sat in the drawing-room attired in a soft gray satin gown with
a great deal of white lace, a subdued, Quakerish costume, quaint and
becoming, and chatted with Bessie Vernon and the rest, and all the time
her heart was listening for a ring at the door-bell, the sound of a
familiar step in the hall.
“Rosamond,” whispered Mrs. Vernon, after awhile, “I have something to
tell you--something rich! Are you engaged for twelve to-morrow? No?”
as Rosamond shook her head in the negative. “Then I will call and see
you. I want to tell you something, but you must be sure and never
mention it, never, as long as you live. It is something about Lenore
Van Alstyne.”
Rosamond started.
“Very well, I shall expect you to-morrow. And you may rely upon my
secrecy, Bessie.”
And then Mrs. Vernon’s carriage was announced, and Mrs. Vernon took her
departure, with a whispered reminder to her hostess of the morrow’s
engagement. And then the other callers left. Still Jack Lyndon had not
made his appearance. What did it mean?
Feeling restless and uneasy, full of a strange disquiet, Rosamond threw
a wrap about her shoulders and went out into the grounds. A glorious
moonlight night. She wandered slowly down the nearest walk, and at last
found herself in the vicinity of the east gate.
“I wonder what Rick meant by being out here last night with Lillian?”
she muttered. “Some mischief, I have no doubt. But I don’t care what
happens if only he keeps her away from Jack. I firmly believe that Jack
cared for her; but I will kill her before she takes him from me.”
She came to a halt with a start of surprise. She had nearly reached the
east gate, and her quick eyes had caught sight of two dark forms.
Just at that moment the clock in the steeple struck ten.
“I declare!” panted Miss Raleigh, in a low, wrathful voice, “it is Rick
and that girl again. Now, this is too much--too much altogether. Papa
would be so angry if he knew.”
Even as she gazed upon the scene Richard Raleigh took Lillian’s slight
form in his arms and kissed her unresisting lips.
Miss Raleigh could endure no more. She darted swiftly forward and
confronted the pair in the radiant moonlight, pale and wrathful.
“You shameless creature!” she panted, bringing her hand down upon
Lillian’s shoulder with a fierce grip. “You shall leave my employ at
once--this very night! As for you, Richard Raleigh, I shall tell papa
of your shameful conduct, this moment--this very moment, sir, and he
will settle with you. The idea of a disgraceful affair like this going
on right under our very eyes!”
And before Lillian could recover from her bewilderment, Rosamond
turned swiftly about, and rushed like a mad woman back to the house.
She burst into the drawing-room quite pale with excitement, and she
came to a startled halt as her eyes fell upon Jack Lyndon. He had been
closeted all the evening with Grafton Raleigh, though Rosamond had not
suspected his presence in the house; and now in the drawing-room--the
interview over--they sat conversing with Mrs. Raleigh and waiting for
Rosamond to appear.
There was a hurried greeting, after which Rosamond, pale and excited,
turned to her father.
“Papa--mamma, I beg your pardon, and Mr. Lyndon’s also, for rushing
in upon you in this fashion. But really I must speak or you may
reproach me for my silence later on. Papa, last night I saw your son,
Richard Raleigh, down at the east gate, where he had evidently gone by
appointment to meet my waiting-maid, Lillian Leigh. To-night I walked
out into the grounds. I felt lonely,” with a glance of tender reproach
into Jack’s startled face, “and chancing to walk in the same direction,
I saw them there again. And, papa, Richard had that girl in his arms
and--was actually kissing her!”
“Rosamond!” This from Mrs. Raleigh.
But the master of the house uttered no word. Pale and faint, Jack
Lyndon leaned heavily against the marble mantel, supporting his head
upon his hand and waiting for what was to come next.
“Mamma, it is true. Do not look so angry. It is not my fault. But I
consider his conduct shameful--shameful! And that girl is a bold,
shameless creature, not fit to be in the house with refined ladies. She
is--”
“Hush! Not another word, Rosamond Raleigh!” She wheeled about swiftly,
and there upon the threshold stood her brother, and at his side, pale
and trembling, Lillian Leigh. “Not another word!” repeated Richard
Raleigh, fiercely--“or you shall answer to me for your insults!
Father, I have good news to tell you. I have asked Lillian to be my
wife, and she has consented.”
CHAPTER XVI.
A TRYING ORDEAL.
It was as still as death in the luxurious drawing-room--the sudden,
awful silence of the grave itself, so intense that it was almost
palpable. It was broken at last by Helen Raleigh’s cold, cutting,
imperious voice:
“Grafton,” her hard eyes uplifted to her husband’s face, “you are
master here. I desire you to put an end to this shameful, disgraceful
scene. Your son--my son,” with a hysterical sob, “who dares stand there
and insult his own mother--I demand that he be punished as he deserves.
And as for you,” she glided swiftly over to where Lillian stood, pale
as marble and trembling like a leaf, and brought one white, jeweled
hand down with a grip of iron upon the girl’s shrinking shoulder,
“leave my house this moment, you miserable little wretch--you beggar!
Begone, I say, or I shall--”
“Mother--stop! Not another word!” Richard Raleigh’s face was pale as
death and his eyes flashed ominously. “I command you to be silent.
This lady is my promised wife, and as such I swear that she shall be
respected! Father, are you never going to speak?”
Grafton Raleigh wheeled about and confronted his astonished wife.
“Helen,” his voice was low and stern, “cease this tirade at once.
Richard is right, and--and”--in a whisper--“he has reasons--good
reasons--for the step. The girl is placed in a position which she is
not fitted to fill,” he went on, in a louder tone. “She is pure and
lovely; and Richard--ahem!--loves her, and she--ahem!--loves Richard,
and I have promised not to interfere. I do not see--I do not see why
they should not marry.”
Mrs. Raleigh could only stand and stare blankly into her husband’s
flushed face. Sinking at last upon a velvet sofa, she still sat in
blank, wordless silence, too overwhelmed to speak--too crushed by the
suddenness of the blow to find words to utter. At last:
“Great heavens! am I mad, or am I dreaming? Grafton Raleigh, are you
in your senses? You, Grafton Raleigh, millionaire--you, who have just
listened quietly to the proposal for the hand of your only daughter
from a beggarly journalist,” Jack Lyndon bowed mockingly, “you, who
have listened, I say,” went on the irate lady, “and have decided to
give him a chance to win Rosamond, your only daughter--”
A pause during which Rosamond flashed a swift glance into the pale
face of her prospective betrothed, but failed to see any ecstatic joy
mirrored upon his countenance. Mrs. Raleigh continued:
“You now permit your son--your only son--to say such words to a
servant-girl--a common servant-girl--your daughter’s waiting-maid!
Your son, who might have had his choice of half a dozen wealthy and
fashionable women! Grafton Raleigh, if I did not believe--ay, know
that you had gone mad--I would promise you to be revenged for this.
But you are out of your senses, and I must be patient as possible. But
I can not be patient!” she sobbed, starting to her feet and beginning
to pace up and down the great room with nervous tread. “I shall die!
I--shall--die! Oh, somebody do something for me--quick! I am going to
faint--to die--to--die!”
And then followed an attack of hysterics which prostrated the irate
mother entirely, and made Jack Lyndon cast wistful glances toward the
door, through which for the present he dared not attempt to escape.
After a little Mrs. Raleigh’s maid appeared and the patient was carried
up to her own room, and a physician telephoned for, after which silence
settled down once more.
Pale and still, the group in the drawing-room below stood gazing into
each other’s faces. Jack was the first to break the strange, oppressive
silence. He walked straight up to Lillian and held out his hand.
“Allow me to congratulate you, Miss Leigh,” he said, in a cold, hard
voice. “You have done the best thing possible--for yourself.”
Lillian’s eyes flashed, she bowed coldly, but she did not seem to
notice his offered hand. She could not take it. She could not shake
hands with the man whom Richard Raleigh had accused of her father’s
murder. With a shudder she turned aside, then she forced herself to
glance back into his face again.
“And you,” she returned, quietly, her face pale with righteous
indignation, “may you be as happy as you deserve.”
He turned away, pale and trembling, and with a brief, comprehensive
good-night to the others, left the room.
Rosamond followed him into the hall.
“Jack,” in a low tone, “I am not yet clear as to the result of your
interview with papa. He said--”
“That he would make no objection for the present--would let affairs
take their own course, etc., etc.; but he stipulates that there shall
be no engagement, and that the matter be kept secret for a year. Only I
may call as often as I please, and be looked upon as an honored guest,
and all that sort of thing, while you are to be left untrammeled. If
any other suitor appears with more money, more brains, more good looks
than I possess--”
“Jack!” in a tone of protest, and with a girlish giggle Rosamond threw
herself into his arms.
For just a moment he submitted to the embrace, shutting his teeth down
fiercely into his under lip; then he removed her clinging arms and
turned toward the door.
“I must go, Rosamond,” he said, firmly. “I am expected down at the
office for a good six hours’ work.”
“Poor fellow!” in a tone of tender compassion; “that shall soon be a
thing of the past. For, of course, we shall be married some time, Jack,
and--and then you need never work again.” He shuddered. “And it is
absurd in papa,” she went on, vehemently, “to impose such conditions
upon us. As though I could ever care for any one else. And if a richer
suitor should make his appearance”--“Heaven grant it!” was Jack’s
mental ejaculation--“it would make no difference to me, Jack, I assure
you. Ah, must you go? Good-night, then.”
And a pair of thin lips were held up suggestively, so what could Jack
do but bend his handsome head and touch them lightly with his own?
The first kiss! But, alas! Jack Lyndon was thinking even then of the
lips which he had kissed only the morning before--or was it a century
ago?
Sick and faint and heart-weary, he closed the door of the Raleigh
mansion behind him and went down the street, pale and wan, his eyes
full of moody light. He looked like a desperate gambler who has staked
his all upon one throw of the dice--and lost.
“I hope to Heaven some wealthy suitor will come along and win her from
me,” muttered this strange lover hoarsely, as he strode on down the
broad, aristocratic avenue, back to the office of the “Thunderer.”
“What a sham--what a miserable sham I am!” he burst forth, impetuously,
“to ask a man for his daughter in marriage, hoping all the time that
he will refuse me. And I actually believed that Grafton Raleigh almost
suspected it, or he would hardly have listened so graciously to a