"Well, but why didn"t you come? We had a glorious time. I have half a mind not to tell you what I heard said of you, but I believe you may have it second-hand. Fred Vincent was as grum as a preacher all the evening, and when I asked him what on earth made him so surly and owlish, he said, "It was too provoking you would not come, for no one else could dance the schottisch to his liking." Now there was a sweet specimen of manners for you! You had better teach your beau politeness."
Cornelia was leaning listlessly against Clara"s desk, and Beulah fancied she looked very sad and abstracted. She colored at the jest, and answered contemptuously:
"He is no beau of mine, let me tell you; and as for manners, I commend him to your merciful tuition."
"But what was your excuse?" persisted Pauline.
"I should think you might conjecture that I felt no inclination to go to parties and dance when you know that we are all so anxious about my brother."
"Oh, I did not think of that!" cried the heedless girl, and quite as heedlessly she continued:
"I want to see that brother of yours. Uncle Guy says he is the handsomest boy in the city, and promises to make something extraordinary. Is he so very handsome?"
"Yes." The proud lip trembled.
"I heard Anne Vernon say she liked him better than all her other beaux, and that is great praise, coming from her queenship," said Emily Wood, who stood near.
Cornelia"s eyes dilated angrily, as she answered with curling lips:
"Eugene one of her beaux! It is no such thing."
"You need not look so insulted. I suppose if the matter is such a delicate one with you, Anne will withdraw her claim," sneered Emily, happy in the opportunity afforded of wounding the haughty spirit whom all feared and few sympathized with.
Cornelia was about to retort, but madam"s voice prevented, as, leaning from the platform opposite, she held out a note, and said:
"Miss Graham, a servant has just brought this for you."
The girl"s face flushed and paled alternately, as she received the note and broke the seal with trembling fingers. Glancing over the contents, her countenance became irradiated, and she exclaimed joyfully:
"Good news! The "Morning Star" has arrived at Amsterdam. Eugene is safe in Germany."
Beulah"s head went down on her desk, and just audible were the words:
"My Father in Heaven, I thank thee!"
Only Clara and Cornelia heard the broken accents, and they looked curiously at the bowed figure, quivering with joy.
"Ah! I understand; this is the asylum Beulah I have often heard him speak of. I had almost forgotten the circ.u.mstance. You knew him very well, I suppose?" said Cornelia, addressing herself to the orphan, and crumpling the note between her fingers, while her eyes ran with haughty scrutiny over the dress and features before her.
"Yes, I knew him very well." Beulah felt the blood come into her cheeks, and she ill brooked the cold, searching look bent upon her.
"You are the same girl that he asked my father to send to the public school. How came you here?"
A pair of dark gray eyes met Cornelia"s gaze, and seemed to answer defiantly, "What is it to you?"
"Has Dr. Hartwell adopted you? Pauline said so, but she is so heedless that I scarcely believed her, particularly when it seemed so very improbable."
"Hush, Cornelia! Why, you need Pauline"s tuition about as much as Fred Vincent, I am disposed to think. Don"t be so inquisitive; it pains her," remonstrated Clara, laying her arm around Beulah"s shoulder as she spoke.
"Nonsense! She is not so fastidious, I will warrant. At least, she might answer civil questions."
"I always do," said Beulah.
Cornelia smiled derisively, and turned off, with the parting taunt:
"It is a mystery to me what Eugene can see in such a homely, unpolished specimen. He pities her, I suppose."
Clara felt a long shiver creep over the slight form, and saw the ashen hue that settled on her face, as if some painful wound had been inflicted. Stooping down, she whispered:
"Don"t let it trouble you. Cornelia is hasty, but she is generous, too, and will repent her rudeness. She did not intend to pain you; it is only her abrupt way of expressing herself."
Beulah raised her head, and, putting back the locks of hair that had fallen over her brow, replied coldly:
"It is nothing new; I am accustomed to such treatment. Only professing to love Eugene I did not expect her to insult one whom he had commissioned her to a.s.sist, or at least sympathize with."
"Remember, Beulah, she is an only child, and her father"s idol, and perhaps--"
"The very blessings that surround her should teach her to feel for the unfortunate and unprotected," interrupted the orphan.
"You will find that prosperity rarely has such an effect upon the heart of its favorite," answered Clara musingly.
"An unnecessary piece of information. I discovered that pleasant truth some time since," said Beulah bitterly.
"I don"t know, Beulah; you are an instance to the contrary. Do not call yourself unfortunate, so long as Dr. Hartwell is your friend.
Ah! you little dream how blessed you are."
Her voice took the deep tone of intense feeling, and a faint glow tinged her cheek.
"Yes, he is very kind, very good," replied the other, more gently.
"Kind! good! Is that all you can say of him?" The soft brown eyes kindled with unwonted enthusiasm.
"What more can I say of him than that he is good?" returned the orphan eagerly, while the conversation in the study, the preceding day, rushed to her recollection.
Clara looked at her earnestly for a moment, and then averting her head, answered evasively:
"Pardon me; I have no right to dictate the terms in which you should mention your benefactor." Beulah"s intuitions were remarkably quick, and she asked slowly:
"Do you know him well?"
"Yes; oh, yes! very well indeed. Why do you ask?"
"And you like him very much?"
"Very much."
She saw the gentle face now, and saw that some sorrow had called tears to the eyes, and sent the blood coldly back to her heart.
"No one can like him as I do. You don"t know how very kind he has been to me--me, the miserable, lonely orphan," murmured Beulah, as his smile and tones recurred to her.