Why should he not see Bernardine for another week? It would not harm her, and it would be his last gleam of happiness.
At this time another suitor for Bernardine's hand appeared upon the scene. On one of his visits to the Moores' home he met a young man there. The old basket-maker introduced him, with quite a flourish, as Mr. Jasper Wilde, a wine merchant, and his landlord. The two men bowed stiffly and looked at each other as they acknowledged the presentation.
Doctor Gardiner saw before him a heavy-set, dark-eyed young man with a low, sinister brow. An unpleasant leer curled his thin lips, which a black mustache partially shaded, and he wore a profusion of jewels which was disgusting to one of his refined temperament.
He could well understand that he was a wine merchant's son. He certainly gave evidence of his business, and that he had more money than good breeding. The word roué was stamped on his every feature.
Jay Gardiner was troubled at the very thought of such a man being brought in contact with sweet Bernardine. Then the thought flashed through his mind that this was certainly the man whom the woman on the doorstep had told him about.
Jasper Wilde, looking at the young doctor, summed him up as a proud, white-handed, would-be doctor who hadn't a cent in his pocket.
"I can see what the attraction is here – it's Bernardine; but I'll block his little game," he muttered. "The few weeks that I've been out of the city he has been making great headway; but I'll stop that."
The young doctor noticed that what the woman had told him was quite true. He could readily see that Bernardine showed a feeling of repugnance toward her visitor.
But another thing he noticed with much anxiety was, that the old basket-maker was quite hilarious, as though he had been dosed with wine or something stronger.
Jay Gardiner knew at once that this man must have known the basket-maker's failing and slipped him a bottle, and that that was his passport to favor.
Doctor Gardiner talked with David Moore and his daughter, addressing no remarks whatever to the obnoxious visitor.
"The impudent popinjay is trying to phase me," thought Wilde; "but he will see that it won't work."
Accordingly he broke into every topic that was introduced; and thus the evening wore on, until it became quite evident to Doctor Gardiner that Mr. Jasper Wilde intended to sit him out.
Bernardine looked just a trifle weary when the clock on the mantel struck ten, and Doctor Gardiner rose to depart.
"Shall I hold the light for you?" she asked. "The stair-way is always very dark."
"If you will be so kind," murmured the doctor.
Jasper Wilde's face darkened as he listened to this conversation. His eyes flashed fire as they both disappeared through the door-way.
On the landing outside Doctor Gardiner paused a few moments.
How he longed to give her a few words of advice, to tell her to beware of the man whom he had just left talking to her father! But he remembered that he had not that right. She might think him presumptuous.
If he had only been free, he would have pleaded his own suit then and there. That she was poor and unknown, and the daughter of such a father, he cared nothing.
Ah! cruel fate, which forbid him taking her in his arms and never letting her go until she had promised to be his wife!
As it was, knowing that he loved her with such a mighty love, he told himself that he must look upon her face but once again, and then it must be only to say farewell.
"The night is damp and the air is chill, and these narrow halls are draughty. Do not stand out here," he said, with eager solicitude; "you might catch cold."
She laughed a sweet, amused laugh.
"I am used to all kinds of weather, Doctor Gardiner," she said. "I am always out in it. I make the first track in winter through the deep snows. I go for the work in the morning, and return with it at night. You know, when one is poor, one can not be particular about such little things as the weather; it would never do."
CHAPTER XI
Sweet Bernardine Moore laughed to see the look of amazement upon the young doctor's face.
He who had been reared in luxury, pampered and indulged – ay, spoiled by an over-indulgent mother, what had he ever known of the bitter realities of life, the struggles many have to undergo for their very existence?
He looked at this delicate, graceful girl, and his lips trembled, his eyes grew moist with tears.
Oh, if he but dared remove her from all this sorrow! The thought of her toiling and suffering there was more than he could calmly endure.
He turned away quickly. In another moment he would have committed himself. He had almost forgotten that he was bound to another, and would have been kneeling at her feet in another minute but for the sound of her father's voice, which brought him to himself.
"Bernardine!" cried her father, fretfully, "what are you doing out there so long in the hall? Don't you know that Mr. Wilde is waiting here to talk with you?"
A pitiful shadow crossed the girl's face. Evidently she knew what the man had to say to her.
Tears which she could not resist came to her eyes, and her lovely lips trembled.
Doctor Gardiner could not help but observe this.
"Bernardine," he cried, hoarsely, forgetting himself for the moment, "I should like to ask something of you. Will you promise to grant my request?"
"Yes," she murmured, faintly and unhesitatingly.
"Do not trust the man to whom your father is talking."
"There is little need to caution me in regard to him, Doctor Gardiner," she murmured. "My own heart has told me that already – "
She stopped short in great embarrassment, and Doctor Gardiner thought it best not to pursue the subject further, for his own peace of mind as well as hers.
He turned abruptly away, and was quickly lost to sight in the labyrinth of stair-ways.
With slow steps Bernardine had re-entered her apartments again. As she approached the door, she heard Jasper Wilde say to her father in an angry, excited voice:
"There is no use in talking to you any longer; it must be settled to-night. I do not intend to wait any longer."
"But it is so late!" whined the basket-maker in his high, sharp treble.
"You knew I was coming, and just what I was coming here for. Why didn't you get rid of the poor, penny doctor, instead of encouraging him?"
"I could not say much to the doctor, for he had my life in his hands, and saved it."
"There might be worse things for you to face," replied the man, menacingly. And the poor old basket-maker understood but too well what he meant.
"Yes, yes," he said, huskily, "you must certainly speak to Bernardine this very night, if I can get her to give you a hearing. I will do my best to influence her to have you."
"Influence!" exclaimed the man, savagely. "You must command her!"
"Bernardine is not a girl one can command," sighed the old man. "She likes her own way, you know."
"It isn't for her to say what she wants or doesn't want!" exclaimed the man savagely. "I shall look to you to bring the girl round to your way of thinking, without any nonsense. Do you hear and comprehend?"
"Yes," said the old man, wearily. "But that isn't making Bernardine understand. Some young girls are very willful!"
Trembling with apprehension, the old basket-maker dropped into the nearest chair.
His haggard face had grown terribly pale, and his emaciated hands shook, while his eyes fairly bulged from their sockets. The agony of mind he was undergoing was intense.
"Will