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

gathering, and might have been the belle of everything had she so

chosen; but she was shy and cold with all other men, in her loyalty to

her noble lover.

There came a day, toward the second week in July, when Mrs. Ellsworth

asked her step-son for a private interview in her boudoir.

"I am obliged to speak to you on a very important subject," she said,

anxiously.

He bowed inquiringly.

"Can you not guess the subject to which I refer?" she continued. "Have

you forgotten the peculiar provisions of your father's will, by which

you will be disinherited in my favor unless you marry on or before your

twenty-sixth birthday?"

"I have not forgotten," he replied, calmly.

"Then perhaps you have forgotten that the first day of August will be

your birthday?"

"I have not forgotten that, either," he replied, coolly.

The handsome old lady regarded him with some irritation, and snapped

out:

"Then perhaps you will condescend to explain the reason for your strange

shilly-shallying? Your birthday scarcely three weeks off, and your

inheritance dependent on your marriage, yet not even engaged!"

"Dear madame, there is plenty of time yet," he replied, with provoking

coolness.

"You expect, then, to be married on your birthday?"

"Certainly, madame. You can not suppose that I am going to remain

single, and resign my birthright to you or any one?"--sarcastically.

"I scarcely thought you such a fool," she said, tartly; adding: "But I

consider your behavior very strange. You are not yet engaged that I know

of, and the bride ought to have more than three weeks to prepare her

trousseau."

"That is all nonsense about an elaborate trousseau. She will need only a

wedding and traveling-gown, and the other finery can be bought while we

are on our wedding-tour in Paris," he returned, airily.

She exclaimed, suspiciously:

"Perhaps you are engaged already to some grand foreign lady, and intend

to return to Europe in time to marry her on your birthday?"

"You are mistaken, madame. There is no girl in the world for me but one

of our lovely Americans. That is why I came home from my wanderings. I

wanted to choose one of my own beautiful country women to be my bride."

"I applaud your taste," she smiled. "I have traveled over the whole

world, but I found no women as charming as the Americans; and I am glad

you will choose one to reign at Ellsworth. But have you made your

choice?"

"Ah, madame! that is hard to do among so many lovely girls," he replied,

evasively.

She studied him gravely a moment, then exclaimed, boldly:

"I wish you would make your choice between my nieces, Olive and Ela."

"Dainty is your niece, too, I believe?"--coolly.

"Only my half-niece--the daughter of a half-brother I never loved. I

simply asked her here through kindness to give her a good time. But with

the other two it was different. I own to you I desired you to fall in

love with one, and marry her, while I would make the other my heiress,

thus settling them both luxuriously in life."

"Ah! And what did you expect to do for pretty little

Dainty?"--curiously.

"Nothing. She would return to Richmond, and become a

school-teacher"--irritably.

Love said nothing, only regarded her so gravely, that she snapped:

"Well, what do you say? Can you fall in with my plans?"

"Really, I can't say, you have taken me so much by surprise. Besides,

the choice is very limited. Put Dainty in the balance with the other two

nieces, and I will promise to choose between the three."

"Love, you are surely not thinking seriously of Dainty Chase for a wife?

I assure you that she would not make a fitting mistress for Ellsworth.

You admire brave, spirited women, I know, and Dainty is a weak,

hysterical little coward, taking dreams for realities. Sheila Kelly

assures me that every night since she has been sleeping in her room she

has had a hysterical spell, declaring that she has either seen or heard

the old monk, although nothing at all supernatural has happened to

Sheila, showing that it is nothing but bad dreams and hysterics on

Dainty's part. If she goes on in this way long, she will either lose her

health or her reason; and I am thinking seriously of sending her home to

her mother."

"You will do nothing of the kind. Write at once, and invite her mother

to come to Ellsworth," he said, so sternly that she started with anger,

exclaiming:

"I will not do it! Instead, I will send away this hateful girl who is

trying to thwart all my hopes and plans for Olive and Ela!"

She saw by the pallor of his face and the flash of his eyes that she had

gone too far, and her heart sank as he said, haughtily:

"Take care that you do not transcend your authority, madame, in thus

threatening to send away the future fair mistress of my home! Yes, I

will trifle with you no longer. You shall hear the truth, and govern

yourself accordingly. Dainty Chase is my promised bride, and we will be

married on the first of August, my happy birthday!"

She could have killed him for the pride and joy that rang in his voice,

as he towered above her, proclaiming the truth. An insane rage rose

within her, as she hissed:

"It is as I feared and suspected. The sly minx has made a fool of you,

and you will be insane enough to marry her; but she does not love you.

She only angled for you because you are rich! She had a lover in

Richmond, poor like herself, whom she threw over as soon as she found

she had a chance to win you. Already he has followed her here, and they

have had two secret meetings in the grounds at twilight. Even the

servants are gossiping about it."

His eyes blazed, his face grew ashen, and his teeth clinched, as he

stormed in bitter wrath:

"It is a hellish falsehood!"

"Do you say so? Then here are the proofs--the notes she lost, that were

picked up by a servant, and brought to me. Read them, and be convinced!"

she cried, in coarse triumph.

His eyes flashed on her like sheet lightning, as he clinched them in his

hand.

"Read them!" she repeated, sharply; and she shrank back in bitter

humiliation, as he thundered:

"Do you forget I am an Ellsworth--a descendant of that grand old race

whose motto is: 'Honor before everything'?"

"Well?" she cried, cringingly.

"Do you think that an Ellsworth--a born Ellsworth, I mean, not one by

the accident of marriage, like you--could stoop to the meanness of

invading another person's private correspondence? It is the act of a

hound, not a gentleman! No; I will not read these papers; but I will

restore them to their owner, and she shall explain or not, as she will,

the foul aspersion you have cast upon her honor in declaring she has

another lover. I trust in her as I do in Heaven!" and he rushed

violently from the room in search of Dainty.