Chapter. II

This is what I call a worldly paradise!” A girl with a face like dearrnLady Disdain’s sank into a divan placed near the conservatory; her voicernchimed in prettily with the music of a spraying fountain and the softrnstrains of remote stringed instruments.rnrn“Is it a frivolous conceit?” she continued, laughing up to the man whornstood beside her; “or do the soft light of many candles, faint music,rnradiant women, and courtly men, satisfy your predilections also thatrnsuch a place is as near heaven as this wicked world approaches?”rnrn“You forget; paradise was occupied by but two. To my notion, nothingrncan be farther removed from Elysium than a modern drawing-room full ofrnguests.”rnrn“And leaving out the guests?”rnrn“They say imagination can make a paradise of a desert, given thernnecessary contingencies.”rnrn“A solitude of two who love? Dr. Kemp, methinks you are a romantic.”rnrn“You supplied the romance, Miss Gwynne. My knowledge is of the hard,rnmatter-of-fact sort.”rnrn“Such as bones, I suppose. Still you seem to be interested in thernsoft-looking piece of humanity over by that cabinet.”rnrn“Yes; his expression is reminiscent of a boy’s definition of arnvacuum,--a large space with nothing in it. Who is he?”rnrn“And I thought you not unknown! He is the husband of a brilliant woman,rnMrs. Ames, who has written a novel.”rnrn“Clever?”rnrn“Decidedly so; it stands the test of being intoxicating and leaving arnbad taste in the mouth,--like dry champagne.”rnrn“Which is not made for women.”rnrn“You mean school-girls. There she is,--that wisp of a creature listeningrnso eagerly to that elegant youth of the terrier breed. No wonder herninterests her; he is as full of information in piquant personal historyrnas a family lawyer, and his knowledge is as much public property as arnsocial city directory.”rnrn“You have studied him to advantage. Are you sure you have not stolen arnleaf from him?”rnrn“Dr. Kemp!” she exclaimed in pouting reproach, “do I appear asrnpromiscuous as that? You may call me a ‘blue book,’ but spare myrnsnobbery the opprobrious epithet of ‘directory.’ There goes thernfascinating young Mrs. Shurly with Purcell Burroughs in her toils. Didrnyou catch the fine oratory of the glance she threw us? It said, ‘DorothyrnGwynne, how dare you appropriate Dr. Kemp for ten long minutes? Hand himrnover; pass him around. I want him; you are only boring him, though yournseem to be amusing yourself.”rnrnKemp’s grave lips twitched at the corners; he was without doubt amused.rnrn“Aren’t you improvising?” he asked. A man need only offer an occasionalrnbumper of a remark to keep the conversation from flagging, when hisrncompanion is a woman.rnrn“No; you evidently do not know what a feminine sneer is in words. Ah,rnhere comes the Queen of Sheba.” She broke off with a pleased smile asrnRuth Levice approached on the arm of her cousin, Louis Arnold.rnrnSingly, each would have attracted attention anywhere; together theyrnwere doubly striking-looking. Arnold, tall and slight, carrying hisrnhead high, fair of complexion as a peachy-cheeked girl, was a peculiarlyrndistinguished-looking man. The delicate pince-nez he wore emphasizedrnslightly the elusive air of supercilious courtliness he always conveyed.rnNow, as he spoke to Ruth, who, although a tall girl, was some inchesrnshorter than he, he maintained a strict perpendicular from the crownrnof his head to his heels, only looking down with his eyes. Short womenrnresented this trick of his, protesting that it made them stand on tiptoernto speak to him.rnrnThere was something almost Oriental about Ruth, with her creamy,rncolorless face, like a magnolia blossom; her dusky hair was looselyrnrolled from her forehead and temples; her eyes were soft and brownrnbeneath delicately pencilled brows, and matched the pure oval of herrnface. But the languorous air of Southern skies was wholly wanting in thernsweet sympathy of her glance, and in a certain alertness about the poisernof her head.rnrnArnold stopped perforce at Miss Gwynne’s slight signal.rnrn“Where are you hastening?” she asked as they turned to greet her. “Onernwould think you saw your Nemesis before you, so oblivious were you tornthe beauties scattered about.” She looked up pertly at Arnold, afterrngiving one comprehensive glance over Ruth’s toilet.rnrn“We both wished to see the orchids of which one hears,” he answered,rnwith pronounced French accent and idiom; adding, with a slight smile, “Irndid not overlook you, but you were so busily contemplating other groundrnthat it would have been cruelty to disturb you.” He spoke the languagernslowly, as a stranger upon foreign ground.rnrn“Oh, yes; I forgot. Dr. Kemp, are you acquainted with the Queen of Shebarnand her doughty knight Louis, surnamed Arnold?” She paused a moment asrnthe parties acknowledged the curious introduction, and then broke inrnrather breathlessly: “There, Doctor, I shall leave you with royalty; dornnot let your republican ignorance forget her proper title. Mr. Arnold,rnMrs. Merrill is beckoning to us; will you come?” and with a naive,rnsuperbly impish look at Ruth, she drew Arnold away before he couldrnmurmur an excuse.rnrnAt the impertinent words the soft, rich blood suffused Ruth’s face.rnrn“Will you sit here awhile and wait for Mr. Arnold, or shall we go andrnsee the orchids?” The pleasant, deep voice broke in upon her confusionrnand calmed her self-consciousness. She raised her eyes to the dark,rnclever face above her; it was a strong, rather than a handsome face.rnFrom the broad sweep of the forehead above the steady scrutiny of therngray eyes, to the grave lip and firm chin under the dark, pointed beard,rnstrength and gentleness spoke in every line. His personality bore thernstamp of a letter of credit.rnrn“Thank you,” said she; “I think I shall sit here. My cousin willrnprobably be back soon.”rnrnThe doctor seated himself beside her. Miss Gwynne’s appellation wasrnnot inaptly chosen, still he would have preferred to know her morernconventional title.rnrn“This is a peaceful little corner,” he said. “Do you notice how removedrnit seems from the rest of the room?”rnrn“Yes,” she answered, meeting and disconcerting his pleasantlyrnquestioning look with one of swift resolve. “Dr. Kemp, I wish to tellrnyou that my father has confided to me your joint secret.”rnrn“Your father?” he looked bewildered; his knowledge of the Queen ofrnSheba’s progenitors was vague.rnrn“My father, yes,” she repeated, smiling at his perplexity. “Our name isrnnot very common; I am Jules Levice’s daughter.”rnrnHe was about to exclaim “NO!” The kinship seemed ridiculous in the facernof this lovely girl and the remembered picture of the little plain-facedrnJew. What he did say was,--rnrn“Mr. Levice is an esteemed friend of mine. He is present, is he not?”rnrn“Yes. Have you met my mother yet?”rnrnThe mother would probably unravel the mysterious origin of thisrnbeautiful face and this strange, sweet voice, whose subdued tones heldrnan uncommon charm.rnrn“No; but your father is diplomat enough to manage that before thernevening is over. So you know our little scheme. Pardon the ‘shop’ whichrnI have of a necessity brought with me this evening, but have you seenrnany signs of illness in your mother?”rnrn“No; I have been very blind and selfish,” she replied, somewhatrnbitterly, “for every one but me seems to have seen that something wasrnwrong. She has been very anxious to give me pleasure, and I fearrnhas been burning the candle at both ends for my light. I wish I hadrnknown--probably it lay just within my hand to prevent this, instead ofrnleading her on by my often expressed delight. What I wish to ask yournis that if you find anything serious, you will tell me, and allay myrnfather’s fears as much as possible. Please do this for me. My father isrnnot young; and I, I think, am trustworthy.”rnrnShe had spoken rapidly, but with convincing sincerity, looking herrncompanion full in the face.rnrnThe doctor quietly scrutinized the earnest young face before hernanswered. Then he slightly bowed in acquiescence.rnrn“That is a pact,” he said lightly; “but in all probability your father’srnfears are exaggerated.”rnrn“‘Where love is great, the smallest doubts are fears,’” she quoted,rnsoftly flushing. The doctor had a singular impersonal habit of keepingrnhis eyes intently bent upon the person with whom he conversed, that madernhis companion feel that they two were exclusively alone,--a sensationrnthat was slightly bewildering upon first acquaintance. By and by onernunderstood that it was merely his air of interest that evoked thernfeeling, and so gradually got used to it as to one of his features.rnrn“That is so,” he replied cheerily; “and--I see some one is about tornplay. Mrs. Merrill told me we should have some music.”rnrn“It is Louis, I think; I know his touch.”rnrn“Your cousin? He plays?”rnrnRuth looked at him in questioning wonder. Truth to say, the doctor couldrnnot but betray his surprise at the idea of the cold-looking Arnoldrnin the light of a musician; his doubts took instant flight after thernopening chords. Rubenstein’s Melody in F, played by a master-hand, isrnone long sound of divine ecstasy thrilling the listener to exquisiternrapture. Played by Louis Arnold, what the composer had conceived inrnhis soul was magnificently interpreted. As he finished, there was not arnmurmur; and the next minute he had dashed into a quaint tarantelle thatrninstantly dispelled the former spell of grandeur.rnrn“An artist,” said some one standing near.rnrn“Something more,” murmured Kemp, rising as he saw Ruth do so. He wasrnabout to offer her his arm when Mrs. Merrill, a gently-faced woman,rnstepped up to them, and laying her hand upon Ruth’s shoulder, saidrnrather hurriedly,--rnrn“I am sorry to trouble you, Doctor, but Mrs. Levice--do not be alarmed,rnRuth dear--has become somewhat hysterical, and we cannot calm her; willrnyou come this way, please, and no one need know she is in the study.”rnrn“My family is making itself prominent to-night,” said Ruth, with arnlittle catch in her voice, as they turned with Mrs. Merrill through thernconservatory and so across the hall.rnrn“I shall be here, Doctor, if you wish anything,” said Mrs. Merrill,rnstanding without as he and Ruth entered and immediately shut the doorrnafter them.rnrn“Stay there,” he said with quiet authority to Ruth, and she stood quiternstill where he left her. Mrs. Levice was seated in a large easy-chairrnwith her back to the door; her husband had drawn her head to his bosom.rnThere was no one else in the room, and for a second not a sound, tillrnMrs. Levice began to sob in a frightened manner.rnrn“It’s nothing at all, Jules,” she cried, trying to laugh and failingrnlamentably; “I--I’m only silly.”rnrn“There, dear, don’t talk.” Levice’s face was white as he soothinglyrnstroked her hair.rnrn“Oh!”rnrnThe doctor stepped in front of them, and laying both hands upon herrnshoulders, motioned Levice aside.rnrn“Hush! Not a word!”rnrnAt the sound of his stern, brusque voice, the long quivering shriekrnstopped halfway.rnrn“Be perfectly still,” he continued, holding her firmly. “Obey thisrninstant,” as she began to whimper; “not a sound must I hear.”rnrnRuth and her father stood spell-bound at the effect of the stranger’srnmeasures. For a moment Mrs. Levice had started in affright to scream;rnbut the deep, commanding tone, the powerful hands upon her shoulders,rnthe impressive, unswerving eye that held hers, soon began to act almostrnhypnotically. The sobbing gradually ceased; the shaking limbs slowlyrnregained their calm; and as she sank upon the cushions the strained lookrnin her eyes melted. She was feebly smiling up at the doctor in responsernto his own persuasive smile that gradually succeeded the gravity of hisrncountenance.rnrn“That is well,” said he, speaking soothingly as to a child, and stillrnkeeping his smiling eyes upon hers. “Now just close your eyes for arnminute; see, I have your hand,--so. Go to sleep.”rnrnThere was not a sound in the room; Ruth stood where she had been placed,rnand Mr. Levice was behind the doctor, his face quite colorless, scarcelyrndaring to breathe. Finally the faint, even breathing of Mrs. Levice toldrnthat she slept.rnrnKemp turned to Mr. Levice and spoke low, not in a whisper, whichrnhisses, but his voice was so hushed that it would not have disturbed thernlightest sleeper.rnrn“Put your hand, palm up, under hers. I am going to withdraw my hand andrnretire, as I do not wish to excite her; she will probably open her eyesrnin a few moments. Take her home as quietly as you can.”rnrn“You will call to-morrow?” whispered Levice.rnrnHe quietly assented.rnrn“Now be deft.” The transfer was quickly made, and nodding cheerfully,rnDr. Kemp left the room.rnrnRuth came forward. Five minutes later Mrs. Levice opened her eyes.rnrn“Why, what has happened?” she asked languidly.rnrn“You fell asleep, Esther,” replied her husband, gently.rnrn“Yes, I know; but why is Ruth in that gown? Oh--ye-es!” Consciousnessrnwas returning to her. “And who was that handsome man who was here?”rnrn“A friend of Ruth.”rnrn“He is very strong,” she observed pensively. She lay back in her chairrnfor a few minutes as if dreaming. Suddenly she started up.rnrn“What thoughtless people we are! Let us go back to the drawing-room, orrnthey will think something dreadful has happened.”rnrn“No, Mamma; I do not feel at all like going back. Stay here with Fatherrnwhile I get our wraps.”rnrnBefore Mrs. Levice could demur, Ruth had left the room. As she turned inrnthe direction of the stairs, she was rather startled by a hand laid uponrnher shoulder.rnrn“Oh, you, Louis! I am going for our wraps.”rnrn“Here they are. How is my aunt?”rnrn“She is quite herself again. Thanks for the wraps. Will you call up therncarriage, Louis? We shall go immediately, but do not think of comingrnyourself.”rnrn“Nonsense! Tell your mother you have made your adieux to Mrs.rnMerrill,--she understands; the carriage is waiting.”rnrnA few minutes later the Levices and Louis Arnold quietly stole away.rnMrs. Levice has had an attack of hysteria. “Nothing at all,” the worldrnsaid, and dismissed it as carelessly as most of the quiet turning-pointsrnin a life-history are dismissed.