"Oh, I _must_ go back to Uncle John, and--to--to--"
Stanwick had no idea she meant Rex. He took it for granted she meant John Brooks and Septima.
"It is quite uncertain when John Brooks returns to Allendale," he said; "and I suppose you are aware his sister has also left the place--gone, no one knows whither--the Brookses" cottage on the brow of the hill stands empty."
"Gone!" cried Daisy, catching her breath swift and hard, "did you say, sir? Aunt Septima has gone--no one lives in the cottage?" Poor Daisy quite believed she was losing her senses.
"Yes," said Stanwick, smothering a low, malicious laugh, "that is what I said; but I am quite surprised that it is news to you. You are all alone in the world, you see. Of course you could not go back to Allendale. You can do no better than stay in your present quarters for at least a week or so, until you fully recover from your mad frolic on the water and gain a little strength."
"Where am I?" asked Daisy, "and how did I get here? and who lives here?"
"One question at a time, if you please," laughed Stanwick, gazing admiringly at the beautiful, questioning, eager face.
"I suppose," he began, with provoking coolness, "you have been filling that little head of yours with romantic ideas of running away from school, and sailing far out to sea, and straight into the arms of some handsome hero who would save you, and would carry you off to some castle, and turn out to be a prince in disguise! That"s the way they usually turn out, isn"t it? But you found the theory did not work very well in real life, and your little romance came near costing you your life--eh, Miss Daisy? As for the second question, I rescued you, just in the nick of time, by jumping into the turbulent waves and bearing you out of harm"s way and keeping that little romantic head of yours above water until the barge could be stopped, and you were then brought on board. I recognized you at once," he continued; "and to prevent suspicion and inquiry, which would have been sure to follow, I claimed you--as my wife! Do not be alarmed," he said, as a sharp, horrified cry rose to the red lips. "I simply did that in order to protect you from being returned at once in bitter disgrace to Madame Whitney"s. Not knowing what else to do with you when the boat landed, I brought you here, and here you have been ever since, quite unconscious up to date."
"Was it last night you brought me here?" asked Daisy.
"You are not good at guessing. You have been here two nights and two days."
"But who lives here?" persisted Daisy. "Is this your house?"
"Oh, dear, no," laughed Stanwick. "Upon my honor, you are not very complimentary to my taste," he said, glancing around the meagerly furnished apartment. "As near as I can understand it, the house is occupied by three grim old maids. Each looks to be the twin of the other. This was the first shelter I could find, and I had carried you all the way from the boat in my arms, and under the circ.u.mstances, after much consulting, they at last agreed to allow you to remain here. Now you have the whole story in a nutsh.e.l.l."
"Why did they not send to Septima to come to me?" she asked presently.
"Because they thought you were with your best protector--your husband."
"Did you tell them that here, too?" asked Daisy, growing white and ill with a dizzy horror. "Oh, Mr. Stanwick, send for them at once, and tell them it is not so, or I must!" she added, desperately.
"You must do nothing of the kind, you silly child. Do you suppose they would have sheltered you for a single instant if they had not believed you were my wife? You do not know the ways of the world. Believe me, it was the only course I could pursue, in that awkward dilemma, without bringing disgrace and detection upon you."
As if in answer to the question that was trembling upon Daisy"s lips, he continued:
"I am stopping at a boarding-place some little distance from here.
This is not Baltimore, but a little station some sixty miles from there. When you are well and strong you may go where you please, although I frankly own the situation is by no means an unpleasant one for me. I would be willing to stay here always--with you."
"Sir!" cried Daisy, flushing as red as the climbing roses against the window, her blue eyes blazing up with sudden fire, "do you mean to insult me?"
"By no means," responded Lester Stanwick, eagerly. "Indeed, I respect and honor you too much for that. Why, I risked my life to save yours, and shielded your honor with my name. Had I been your husband in very truth I could not have done more."
Daisy covered her face with her hands.
"I thank you very much for saving me," she sobbed, "but won"t you please go away now and leave me to myself?"
_Roue_ and villain as Lester Stanwick was, he could not help feeling touched by the innocence and beauty of little Daisy, and from that instant he loved her with a wild, absorbing, pa.s.sionate love, and he made a vow, then and there, that he would win her.
From their boyhood up Rex and Lester had been rivals. At college Rex had carried off the honors with flying colors. Pluma Hurlhurst, the wealthy heiress, had chosen Rex in preference to himself. He stood little chance with bright-eyed maidens compared with handsome, careless, winning Rex Lyon.
Quite un.o.bserved, he had witnessed the meeting between Rex and Daisy at the fountain, and how tenderly he clasped her in his arms as they waltzed together in the mellow light, to the delicious strains of the "Blue Danube," and knowing Rex as well as he did, he knew for the first time in life Rex"s heart was touched.
"It would be a glorious revenge," Stanwick had muttered to himself, "if I could win her from him." Then a sordid motive of revenge alone prompted him--now he was beginning to experience the sweet thrillings of awakened love himself. Yes, he had learned to love Daisy for her own sweet self.
He smiled as he thought of the last words Pluma Hurlhurst had said to him: "Revenge is sweet, Lester, when love is turned to bitter hatred.
Help me to drag Rex Lyon"s pride as low as he has this night dragged mine, and you shall have my hand as your reward. My father is an invalid--he can not live much longer--then you will be master of Whitestone Hall." As he had walked down the broad gravel path, running his eye over the vast plantation stretching afar on all sides, like a field of snow, as the moonlight fell upon the waving cotton, he owned to himself it was a fair domain well worth the winning.
But as he stood there, gazing silently down upon little Daisy"s face--how strange it was--he would have given up twenty such inheritances for the hope of making sweet little Daisy Brooks his wife.
It was well for Daisy Brooks he little dreamed of the great barrier which lay between them, shutting him out completely from all thoughts of love in Daisy"s romantic heart.
CHAPTER XII.
"Please go away," sobbed Daisy. "Leave me to myself, and I will get up."
"Very well," said Stanwick, involuntarily raising her little white hands courteously to his lips; "and remember, I warn you, for your own sake, not to dispute the a.s.sertion I have made--that you are my wife."
"Why?" asked Daisy, wistfully. "They will forgive me when I tell them how it all came about."
"You do not know women"s ways," he replied. "They would hand you over at once to the authorities; you would bring disgrace and ruin upon your own head, and bitter shame to John Brooks"s heart. I know him well enough to believe he would never forgive you. On the other hand, when you feel well enough to depart, you can simply say you are going away with your husband. No one will think of detaining you; you will be free as the wind to go where you will. It will cost you but a few words. Remember, there are occasions when it is necessary to prevaricate in order to prevent greater evils--this is one of them."
Daisy could not dispute this specious logic, and she suffered herself to be persuaded against her will and better judgment. She was dreadfully homesick, poor little soul! and to go back to Allendale, to Rex, was the one wish of her heart. But would he clasp her in his arms if a shadow of disgrace blotted her fair name? She would go back to him and kneel at his feet, and tell him why she had left Mme.
Whitney"s. She certainly meant to tell him of all that followed, and, with her little, warm cheek pressed close to his, ask him if she had done right.
At that moment the door of an adjoining room opened, and Lester observed the three ladies standing in a row in the door-way. He knew that three pairs of eyes were regarding him intently through as many pairs of blue gla.s.ses.
"Good-bye, my little wife," he said, raising his voice for their benefit; "I"m off now. I shall see you again to-morrow;" and, before Daisy had the least idea of his intentions, he had pressed a kiss upon her rosy lips and was gone.
The three ladies quickly advanced to the couch upon which Daisy reclined.
"We are very glad to find you are so much better this morning," they exclaimed, all in a breath. "Your husband has been almost demented about you, my dear."
They wondered why the white face on the pillow turned so pink, then faded to a dead white, and why the tear-drops started to her beautiful blue eyes.
"I was telling my sisters," pursued one of the ladies, softly, "you were so young to be married--hardly more than a child. How old are you, my dear--not more than sixteen, I suppose?"
"Sixteen and a few months," answered Daisy.
"How long have you been married, my dear?" questioned another of the sisters.
A great sob rose in Daisy"s throat as she remembered it was just a week that very day since she had stood in the dim old parlor at the rectory, while Rex clasped her hands, his handsome, smiling eyes gazing so lovingly down upon her, while the old minister spoke the words that bound them for life to each other. It almost seemed to Daisy that long years had intervened, she had pa.s.sed through so much since then.
"Just a week to-day, madame," she made answer.
"Why, you are a bride, then," they all chorused. "Ah! that accounts for your husband"s great anxiety about you. We all agreed we had never seen a husband more devoted!"