"That I will, Miss Gerelda!" cried Nurse Henderson, laughing and crying over her.
But when she drew her into the house, and took off the long cloak she wore, she was startled beyond expression to see that she wore a bridal-dress all ruined and torn.
Nurse Henderson held up her hands in wild alarm.
"Oh, Miss Gerelda!" she cried; "what does it mean? I am terrified!"
"Do not ask me any questions, I pray; I am not able to answer them just yet. Some day I may tell you all, but not now."
The old nurse placed her on a sofa, begging her to rest herself, as she looked so pale and worn, saying that she might tell her anything she wished, a little later, when she was stronger.
It was a fortnight before Gerelda had strength to leave her old nurse's home, and during that time she had made a confidante of old Nurse Henderson, pledging her beforehand never to reveal the story she had told her. Nurse Henderson listened, horror-struck, to the story.
"I am going to see for myself, Henderson," she added, in conclusion, "just how much truth there is in this affair. If I find that Hubert Varrick has been so false to me, it will surely kill me. I am going there to see for myself."
"You do not seem to realize, my dear," said Nurse Henderson, "that the people say you eloped with his rival, and that he believes them."
"He should have had more confidence in me, no matter what the world says!" cried Gerelda, with flashing eyes. "He should have searched for me. I have often thought since, that Heaven intended just what has occurred to test his love for me. I firmly believe this. I intend to disguise myself, and go boldly to his home and see for myself whether the report is false or true. Of course, a rival would not stoop to make up any falsehood against him and pour it into my ears. You will help me to disguise myself, Henderson?"
"I have thought it all out," continued the heiress, "while I have been under this roof, and I have been trying to gain strength for the ordeal. Let me tell it to you, Henderson, and you will marvel at my clever plan. You know that from a child I could always do exquisite fancy-work. Well, I mean to make use of that talent. Mrs. Varrick – Hubert's mother – has always said she would give anything to find a person willing to come to her home who could do just such fancy-work, and decorate her boudoir. Now, I mean to go there in disguise, show her a sample of my work, and say that I gave many lessons to Gerelda Northrup, and she will be only too glad to have me come to her home at any price. Then I can see for myself just how much my lover is grieving over my loss. He may be pining away – ay, be at the very gates of death, probably. In that case I shall reveal my identity at once.
"Oh, Miss Gerelda, you could never go through all that! You toil, even for a day, for any one? Oh! pray abandon such a mad idea. Believe me, my dear, such an idea is not practicable."
But all her persuasion could not influence the girl to abandon her plan.
A few days later a tall, slender woman robed in the severest black, with a cap on her head and blue glasses covering her eyes, walked slowly up the broad, graveled path that led to the Varrick mansion.
Mrs. Varrick was seated on the porch. She looked highly displeased when the servant approached her, announcing that this person – indicating Gerelda – desired particularly to speak with her a few moments.
"If you are a peddler or in search of work, you should go round to the servants' door," she said, brusquely.
Gerelda never knew until then what a very cross mother-in-law she had escaped.
"Step around there, and I will see you later," said Mrs. Varrick.
This Gerelda was forced to do. She waited in the servants' hall an hour or more before Mrs. Varrick remembered her and came to see what she wanted. When she saw the samples of fancy-work her eyes lighted up.
"They are very beautiful," she said, "but I am not in need of anything of the kind just now. If you call round here a few months later, I might find use for your services."
Gerelda had been so confident of getting an opportunity to stay beneath that roof, that the shock of these words nearly made her cry out and betray herself.
"Is there no young lady in the house to whom I could teach this art?" she asked.
As she spoke these words she heard a light foot-fall on the marble floor, and the soft frou frou of rustling skirts behind her, and she turned her head quickly.
There, standing in the door-way, she beheld Jessie Bain.
Chapter X.
LIFE WITHOUT LOVE IS LIKE A ROSE WITHOUT PERFUME
For an instant these two young girls who were to be such bitter rivals for one man's love looked at each other.
"Oh, what exquisite embroidery!" cried Jessie. "Are you going to buy some, Mrs. Varrick?"
"I am thinking of engaging this young person to come to the house and make some for me, under my supervision," she returned.
"I would give so much to know how to make it!" exclaimed Jessie.
"If this young woman will give you instructions, you can take them," said Mrs. Varrick.
At that moment Hubert Varrick entered.
"What is all this discussion about, ladies?" he asked.
Gerelda uttered a quick gasp as he crossed the threshold. Her heart was in her eyes behind those blue glasses. She had pictured him as being worn and haggard with grieving for her. Did her eyes deceive her? Hubert Varrick looked brighter and happier than she had ever seen him look before, and, like a flash, Captain Frazier's words occurred to her – he had soon found consolation in a new love.
"This woman is an adept at embroidering," said Jessie, "and she is to teach me how to do it. When I have thoroughly learned it, the very first thing I shall make will be a lovely smoking-jacket for you."
"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Hubert. "Believe that it will be a precious souvenir. I shall want to keep it so nice, that I will hardly dare wear it, lest I may soil it."
The girl laughed a little merry laugh. It was well for her that she did not turn and look at the stranger just then. Mrs. Varrick was making arrangements with her, but she was so intently listening to that whispered conversation about the jacket, that she scarcely heard a word she said. She was only conscious that Mrs. Varrick had touched the bell for one of the servants to come and show her the apartment she was to occupy.
"May I ask the name, please?" Mrs. Varrick said.
"Miss Duncan," was the reply.
From the moment Miss Duncan – as she called herself – entered that household her torture began. It was bad enough to be told by Captain Frazier of her would-be lover's lack of constancy; but to witness it with her own eyes – ah, that was maddening!
"Would that I had never entered this household!" she cried out.
She was unable to do justice to her work. Her whole life merged into one desire – to watch Hubert Varrick and Jessie Bain.
She employed herself in embroidering a light silken scarf. This she could take out under the trees, and see the two playing lawn-tennis on the greensward just beyond the lilac hedge.
There was not a movement that escaped her watchful eyes during the whole live-long day. And during the evenings, too. Would she ever forget them?
Yes, Captain Frazier was right – Hubert Varrick had forgotten her.
She could see that Mrs. Varrick had no love for the girl. Indeed, her dislike was most pronounced; and she felt that Hubert must have done considerable coaxing to gain his mother's consent to bring the girl beneath that roof.
When she learned from the housekeeper that Hubert Varrick was her guardian, her rage knew no bounds.
It was at this critical state of affairs that Hubert Varrick received a telegram which called him to New York for a fortnight.
Mrs. Varrick heard this announcement with a little start, while Jessie Bain heard it with dismay.
To