Floyd Grandon's Honor, Amanda Minnie Douglas [you can read anyone .TXT] 📗

Europe, a few weeks later, a decision will be made, for he understands how troublesome the matter is to Grandon, and how anxious he is to have his father's estate settled. If these two young people should choose to settle another point? He must inquire into the young man's character and habits; but if Mr. Floyd Grandon is a sample of the manhood of the family, there can be no trouble on that score. Grandon Park is aristocratic, undeniably elegant, and, so far as he can see, less given to "shoddy" than many of the new places.

The evening is perfection to those who dance and full of enjoyment to those who do not. There are card-tables, and a disused conservatory is transformed into a luxurious smoking-room, from which the mazy winding German can be seen. There are no wall-flowers, no dissatisfied young women with scorn-tipped noses, and the promenaders, mostly married guests, are well paired. Mr. Murray, who has seen society almost everywhere, is charmed with this.

"What a magnificent woman Madame Lepelletier is," he says to Grandon. "We have some friends who met her in New York last winter, and I do not wonder at their enthusiasm. I little thought I should have the pleasure. There are not many of our countrywomen who could give so charming an evening."

Grandon is pleased with the praise. His eyes follow the regal woman.

"If I had been in his place I would have made a bid for her," says Mr. Murray to himself, and he wonders what induced Grandon to marry such a child as Miss St. Vincent must have been a year ago.

After the supper there is some miscellaneous dancing, a few new steps the younger portion are desirous of trying, and a waltz that delights Violet, since she has her husband for a partner. She is full of pleasurable excitement, and seems alive with some electric power. He goes back to their first waltz; what is it that has fallen between and made a little coldness? Why does he study her now with such questioning eyes, and why is she, with all her brilliance, less tender than a month or two ago? That quaint little touch of entire dependence has merged into a peculiar strength, and she seems quite capable of standing alone. He is strangely roused, piqued as it were.

Violet has been studying a rather ponderous subject for a ball-room, and she is somewhat elated at having arrived at a conclusion unaided, except by the trifling suggestion Mr. Latimer has thrown out. It was Mr. Murray whom Mr. Grandon had some business with awhile ago; she remembers seeing his name in a letter. His friend went to Europe, and this is the Mr. Haviland they talk about. She can almost guess the rest. How odd if Eugene should marry into the new business house, as his brother married the daughter of a member of the old one. Violet resolves that he shall love her. She is sweet and engaging and quite captivated by him, as is evident by her girlish frankness and admiration.

The two go up-stairs together, while the gentlemen indulge in a last cigar.

"It was delightful!" Miss Murray says. "Why, I never saw anything really lovelier at Newport, though there is more magnificence. And Mr. Grandon's dancing is perfection. I never enjoyed a partner better. How very handsome he is! I _was_ envied," she cries, with eager delight; "I saw it in the eyes of the other girls. Tell me if you think he is given to flirting; but you know girls _do_ run after such a handsome young fellow! I never should," she declares, naively. "Oh, Miss Brade has asked us to lawn tennis to-morrow, with tea and a little dancing in the evening! And if you want to give _me_ a pleasure," she adds, with a seductive smile, "let it be a German. I do adore Germans."

She kisses Violet good night in a sweet, girlish way, and her last thought is of Eugene Grandon's handsome face.


CHAPTER XXVI.

"And what's the thing beneath the skies We two would most forget?"

Lucia Brade comes over the next morning and renews her invitation to the rather impromptu lawn tennis, including Violet.

"Of course you will go," decides Miss Murray, persuasively, for she must have some one to keep her in countenance with this attractive young man.

It proves rather dull for Violet, though Eugene insists upon giving her a few lessons, and she feels really interested, but she does not want to detach him from Miss Murray. The supper is out of doors and is undeniably gay. Violet obligingly plays most of the evening, accompanied by a violin. She has discussed the German with Lucia, and that evening lays it before her husband.

"Of course," he answers, indulgently. "Let it be Tuesday evening. I wish Eugene would attend to it."

Eugene is elated at being master of ceremonies. They write invitations,--just a young people's party in honor of Miss Murray. Of course madame must be included.

"I don't see why," says Eugene.

"I think Mr. Grandon would rather," Violet replies, with a faint touch of entreaty.

Miss Murray studies on this problem, and afterwards says privately to Eugene, "If I was Mrs. Grandon I should be jealous of that superb woman. Why, she looks as if she could beguile any one."

"Floyd isn't the kind to be beguiled, you see," and he gives a short laugh, but presently admits the old fancy between them.

"Well," says Miss Murray, plaintively, "it _was_ something to be a countess. Still, I couldn't give up the man I loved. I wonder--if he at all resembled you when he was that young?"

"No, indeed," and Eugene assumes an air of serene audacity. "The family beauty was kept inviolate for my sister Laura and your humble servant."

The baby blue eyes have a look of admiration that is extremely gratifying to the young man's vanity.

The three are deeply engrossed day and evening with pleasures of all sorts. Pauline Murray takes them with a zest that quite repays her pretty hostess.

"Your sister-in-law is the sweetest little body in the world!" she declares, enthusiastically. "It is quite ridiculous to think of her being step-mother to that lovely Cecil. I wouldn't be called mamma! Fancy Mrs. Grandon taking her into society a few years hence. Why, they will look like sisters."

"Of course," answers Eugene, tartly. "Only an idiot would imagine it a real relationship."

"Was she very much in love with him?" Miss Murray asks, innocently.

"I don't know," returns Eugene, rather impatiently. "I was away when it happened. I think the marriage was hurried a little on account of Mr. St. Vincent's illness."

Pauline Murray speculates. Eugene is very fond of his pretty sister-in-law.

"Do you always go out together?"

"Go out together?" he repeats, with a show of anger. "Why, we never do. At least I never took her to but one party,--my sister's,--and then Floyd was in Baltimore."

"He and papa went to see Mr. Haviland, who was going to Europe." Miss Murray studies him with her innocent baby eyes. Already she is wise in the lore of women's ways, especially young married women who make a bid for the attention of gentlemen. But she has to admit that Mrs. Grandon is very generous of her brother-in-law, and the most delightful chaperone.

Marcia and Mr. Wilmarth have been to Canada for a week, and return in time to be invited to the garden party, which Floyd honestly regrets. True, no business plans have been agreed upon; when Mr. Haviland comes back, if a formal offer can be made, it will be time to explain.

Eugene and Miss Murray have made the garden party as perfect as zest and large opportunity could avail. The dancing is to be a German, principally, but here they have not madame's experience in selecting and arranging partners. Miss Murray does not mind, since she has secured Eugene. With all her watching she cannot detect any especial fondness on the part of pretty Mrs. Floyd.

Violet is oddly consequential as a chaperone. She has never taken such warm interest in pleasures, and it becomes her youth and vivacity. She is bright and charming, with a touch of authority here and there that renders her quite bewitching.

Yet she has been thinking all this time of her own lot. Had she been alone she would no doubt have brooded over it despondently; but Miss Murray's almost volatile nature kindles the philosophy of hers. She knows now that Floyd Grandon did not marry her for love, that he did not even profess to, and that in most marriages there is at least a profession of love at the beginning, and it is very sweet. Even such half-jesting love as these two young people make unblushingly before her face, in the naughty audacity of youth, is delightful. Mr. Grandon could never do or say such things; he is too grave and sensible.

The house and lawn are lighted up again. There are elegant young men and diaphanous fairies; there is music and dancing; there is nectar and ambrosia and general satisfaction. Violet is too busy to dance, although if she had but known her husband was foolish enough to long to try the seductive atmosphere with her, she would not have been so resolute. Everybody looks happy and content.

"Polly," Mr. Murray says, the next morning, at the late breakfast, "we must be considering our departure. I shall have to go to New York. What part of the earth will it be your pleasure to visit next?"

"Oh," ejaculates Miss Murray, with a regretful emphasis, "the mail has not come in yet?"

"It has not come down. Briggs will be here presently with all personal matters."

Even as he speaks, the supple young fellow, with his well-trained deference, comes in with a budget of letters.

"Hillo!" exclaims Murray, glancing up. "Why, Haviland will be back in about a fortnight! See here, Grandon, can you run out to Chicago with me? The word is favorable, I must go to the city to-day, Polly."

"Why not let Miss Murray remain here, if she is not homesick?" says Grandon.

Pauline Murray's eyes light up with an expression quite the reverse of homesickness.

"I am afraid we shall trespass on a most generous hospitality."

Violet seconds her husband's request. They were to take in Long Branch as they went down, but it will be out of season now, and Pauline must go to her aunt at Baltimore or remain with some friend until the business is settled. So the Grandons' invitation is cordially accepted.

Mr. Murray spends the next two days in the city, while Mr. Grandon is busy with his own affairs, as on the evening of the third they are to start for Chicago. He finds his daughter serenely happy and not yet at the end of pleasures.

"But I think you had better be careful about the young man, Polly," says her father, as they are promenading the lawn at the river's edge, in confidential chat.

"Be careful!" Miss Murray's fair face is a vivid scarlet, and she fans herself violently with her chip hat, as if overcome with the heat.

"Yes, he is a handsome young man, but----"

"And he is pleasant, he has a lovely temper, and--and--I don't know why you should find fault with him, papa," she answers, warmly.

"Why, I have not found fault with him"; and there is a funny twinkle in her father's eye.

"When people say 'but' it always seems like finding fault,"