By Wit of Woman by Arthur W. Marchmont (book series for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

eagerness in putting the questions lessened my difficulty in answering them; and she fussed about me lovingly, making much of me, caressing me, and thanking me; chattering all the time like a child in her eager anticipation of coming happiness; so that my heart alternately glowed with pleasure that I had held on to my resolve and was heavy with fear lest a crushing disappointment was at hand to blight her love and shut out the sunlight from her bright young life for ever.

Her trust in Gustav was absolute, and her faith in his love unshakable.

"He will be so glad. Does he know yet I am here?"

"No, Gareth, not yet."

"I think I am glad of that," she laughed. "What a great start he will give, and how his eyes will open, and what a light of love will be in them when I run up and put my arms round him."

"Pray God he may," was my thought. I still nurtured the hope that what he had once said to me was true; and that so far as there was room for love in his selfish heart, Gareth filled it. It was largely on that hope, indeed, I was building.

"He will be so glad that—do you know what I have thought, Christabel?"

"No, dear."

"I am going to be very cunning. I am going to use that moment of his delight to urge him to take me to my father and tell him everything. Do you think he will do it?"

"It might be better——" I began, when I stopped suddenly as a new thought occurred to me.

"What might be better, Christabel? Tell me; I am so anxious about this. I have been thinking about it ever since I guessed what your news was, and that you were going to bring Karl to me. Tell me, what would be better?"

"I was thinking it would be better if you could first have done something for him; have won his own father to be reconciled to your marriage."

"Oh, I dare not do that," she cried, shrinking like a frightened child. "Besides, I don't know who is his father."

"I do. He is a very great man—Duke Ladislas of Kremnitz."

"I have never seen a Duke in all my life and couldn't speak to one to save it."

I scarcely heard her, for I was thinking what would be the effect of a meeting between this sweet simple-souled child, and that stern, hard-faced, eagle-eyed old man. I pictured the scene if, his Excellency having told the Duke of Gustav's marriage, I were to lead her in to him and say—"This is Gareth."

"You're not thinking a bit of what I'm saying, Christabel," she cried presently. "And you're looking dreadfully solemn. This might be a funeral, instead of one of the happiest days of my life. But don't let us talk any more about dukes—and such people. I couldn't do what you say without telling Karl first."

"Oh, by the way, that's a little mistake about his name you make, Gareth," I said, as if it were a very trifling matter. "He is not called Karl by his friends and his family—but Gustav. The mistake must have been made at first; and I expect he liked you to call him Karl, as the name you first used."

"What nonsense, Christabel. Why we were married as Karl and Gareth." She was almost indignant.

"I suppose he was just humouring you. But his brother's name is Karl. Perhaps they both have that name; and he liked you to call him by it, because no one else did."

For a moment a great doubt clouded her bright eyes. "Do you think you have made a strange mistake, Christabel, and that it is not my Karl who is coming?"

"No dear, I have made no mistake. I could not do that. I only tell you this, that you may not be surprised if you hear others speak to him as Gustav, and look for you to do the same. If I were you, I should call him Gustav before others, and use the other name when you are alone."

"But it is such an extraordinary thing."

At that moment Mrs. Perry knocked at the door and called me.

"I must go now, Gareth."

Her eyes were shining and her face alight with love and nervous anticipation. "Is it Kar—Gustav?"

"No, dearest. Not yet. He may be some little time yet. You will wait here patiently till I come for you?"

"Not patiently," she cried with the rueful pout of a child.

I kissed her. "Courage and a little patience, Gareth," I whispered; my arms about her and her head on my shoulder.

"Yes. I'll try to be patient—but you don't know what it is to wait like this in such suspense."

"I'll come for you the instant I can," I assured her, and went out to Mrs. Perry.

"The two gentlemen are here, Miss Christabel."

"I'll go down to them;" and I ran down, with no very clear thought of what I was to say to either Colonel Katona or to Karl, until I knew for certain that Gustav would really come.

And there was no news yet from James Perry.

CHAPTER XXVI FACE TO FACE

As I entered the room Karl came to me with both hands outstretched. Utterly regardless of Colonel Katona's presence, he exclaimed in a tone of intense earnestness; "Thank God, for a sight of you again, Christabel."

"Count Karl," I said, half in protest, as I put my hands into his nervously and glanced at the Colonel.

"Never mind the Colonel. He knows everything," he declared in the most unabashed manner, "even that I have come to recant. I must take back the promise I made the other night."

"Good-morning, Colonel Katona;" and I drew my hands away from Karl, who had held on to them with quite embarrassing pertinacity.

The Colonel's hard eyes were quite soft with the softness of Gareth's as he smiled. "You have a lovely garden here, may I go out into it?"

"Indeed you may not," I replied quickly. If Count Gustav caught sight of him he would be scared right away.

"Count Karl wishes to speak to you alone—that's why I asked," he replied in his blunt, soldierly way.

"I think I am too embarrassed to know what to say or do;" and I sat down helplessly. "I believe it would be best for us all if we were to talk for about a quarter of an hour of nothing but the weather."

Karl laughed. "I can say what I want to say before the Colonel, Christabel," he declared. But Colonel Katona read something in my manner which disturbed him, and he looked at me earnestly, with an eager appeal in his eyes.

"I hope with all my heart it will be fine weather," I said with a meaning look; "but fine or wet I am not yet ready to...." I could think of no word to fit the sentence, and came to an impotent stop.

"I can wait," declared the Colonel, in evident relief; and turning his back to me, he stared resolutely out into the garden.

I glanced at Karl, and was pained to see how really worn and ill he looked. The sunken cheeks, hollow eye sockets, and haggard, drawn features told their tale of the struggle through which he had passed.

He placed a chair close to mine and as he sat down he said, in a low voice: "I have kept my word so far, Christabel, but I can't go through with it. It will beat me."

"You must have courage."

He shook his head with a despairing smile. "You'll think me a miserably weak creature, but I can't help it. I broke down yesterday and I had to do something. I wrote to the Duke and told him how it was with me, and that he must give his consent; and that if he would, I'd give mine."

I didn't pretend to misunderstand him. "You should not have done that."

"If you wish to save me, you must give in, too—and marry me. I don't care about anything else. Gustav is the man they all want. Let them have him. I told you I had no sympathy with the whole thing. I only held out because somewhere in the back of my mind there was an idea that the thing was a mistake, and that if I insisted on retaining my heirship, I might stop it all. But that means losing you again. I can't do that. I can't."

He was so dejected, so worn with the struggle which he had made at my bidding and for my sake, that if I had been in a firmer mood I could scarcely have urged him. And if I tell the truth, I was in anything but that firmer mood. The gates of happiness yawned wide in front of me, and my heart was urging and spurring me to enter them. I was very weak just then.

"You are ill and not yourself," I said.

"Yes, I am ill—but worse in mind than in body. If I had known what it meant when you laid your hand on my arm that day in the Stadtwalchen and I gave that little bottle to you, I wouldn't have done it. I would do it again to win you, Christabel, but not to lose you."

"I saw the Duke last night—or rather he came to see me."

"My father?" he exclaimed, in great surprise.

"Yes, he wished to see what Colonel von Dreschler's daughter was like."

"Did he tell you I had written to him?"

"No. He did not mention your name—but he promised that my father's memory should be cleared, and even that his old title and his estate should be restored."

"Then I've done something to help you, after all, Christabel? I'm glad;" and he smiled. He had no knowledge of all that lay beneath the surface; and I did not tell him. "I wonder what he thought of you," he added, after a pause.

"I think I surprised him," I said, drily.

"I'm sure of that," he agreed in a pleased tone. "I think I see. If he consents to our marriage and helps to secure for you the old title, it will be the best proof he can give the world that he knows your father was innocent of everything. So you see you'll have to marry me, Christabel, if it's only to secure your own purpose. Thank God!" he exclaimed fervently.

"Do you mean you would give up your birthright merely for me?" I asked.

"Why, of course. That's just what I told him," he replied, simply.

"Do you think I would let you?"

He glanced at me with another smile. "I shall give it up in any case. You must do what you please, you can't prevent me. But I——" he hesitated and added hopefully: "I think I'm very sure of you."

"You can't be sure yet of the Duke's consent. There is more to come than you know."

He reached forward suddenly and seized my hand. "I don't care what's going to happen now. You love me. That's enough for me to know."

"You are very confident—almost audacious. Very different from what you were when—Miss Gilmore met you before."

"It's your doing—all of it. You've given me backbone enough to be resolute on one point at any rate—I won't lose you."

"You must wait to see what occurs here to-day," I said.

"I tell you I don't care. What is it?"

The answer came in a very unexpected form. The door opened and I snatched my hand from Karl's as I heard James Perry say: "Will you wait here a minute, my Lord?"

He had mistaken the directions I had given him about the room into which Karl's brother was to be shown; and the next instant, Count Gustav entered and was staring at us all in amazement.

James was a shrewd fellow, and having recognized his blunder did the best thing to cover it. He shut the door behind Count Gustav and thus made his retreat impossible.

"I am afraid you have mistaken the house, Count," I said, drily. "This is not General von Erlanger's. But pray sit down."

He was bitterly chagrined,