Chapter 22

TO BE, TO DO, TO SUFFER.

On the day that followed the events last related, Madeline Payne returned to Oakley to resume her self-imposed task.

Leaving the train, the girl took the path through the woods. When she had traversed it half way, she came upon old Hagar, who was seated upon a fallen log awaiting her. Looking cautiously about, to assure herself that the interview would have no spectators, Madeline, or Celine, as we must now call her, seated herself to listen to the report of Davlin's visit, and the success of Hagar's interview with Cora.

Expressing herself fully satisfied with what she heard, Celine made the old woman acquainted with the result of her visit to the city, or as much of it as was necessary and expedient. Then, after some words of mutual council, and a promise to visit her that evening, if possible, the girl lost no time in making her way to the manor, and straight into the presence of her mistress.

Considering that her maid was--her maid, Miss Arthur welcomed her with an almost rapturous outburst. Celine had held high place in the affections of Miss Arthur, truth to tell, since her astonishing discovery of Mr. Edward Percy, in the character of young Romeo, promenading within sight of his lady's window.

"Celine," simpered Miss Arthur, while the damsel addressed was brushing out her mistress's hair, preparatory to building it into a French wonder; "Celine, I may be wrong in talking so freely to you about myself and my--my friends, but I observe that you never presume in the least--"

"Oh, mademoiselle, I could never do that!" cooed the girl, with wicked double meaning.

"And," pursued Miss Arthur, graciously, "you are really quite a sagacious and discreet young person."

"Thanks, miladi." Then, as if recollecting herself, "Pardon, _mademoiselle_, but you are so like her ladyship, _Madame Le Baronne De Orun_, my very first mistress--"

"Oh, I don't mind it at all, Celine. As I was saying, you seem quite a superior young person, and no doubt I am not the first who has made you a sort of _confidante_.

"Merci! no; my lady. _Madame Le Baronne_ used to trust me with _everything_, and often deigned to ask my advice. But French ladies, oui, mademoiselle, always put confidence in their maids. And a maid will die rather than betray a good mistress--"

"Exactly, Celine--are you going to put my hair so high?"

"Very high, _miladi_."

"Oh, well; will it be becoming?"

"Oui; La mode la Francaise," relapsing into ecstacy and French. _"Le coiffeur comme il faut! Chere amie, le-chef-a-oeuvre!_"

Miss Arthur collapsed, and Celine continued to build up an atrociously unbecoming pile of puffs and curls in triumphant silence.

Celine never indulged in her native tongue, so she assured her mistress, except when carried away by momentary enthusiasm, or unwonted emotion. It was bad taste, she averred, and she desired to cultivate the beautiful American language.

Presently Miss Arthur made another venture, feeling quite justified in following in the footsteps of so august a personage as _Madame Le Baronne_.

"Did you see Mr. Percy after you left Bellair?"

"No, mademoiselle."

"Did you observe if he returned in the same train with yourself?"

"No, mademoiselle." Then, with a meaning little laugh: "Monsieur will not remain long from Oakley."

Miss Arthur tried to look unconscious, and succeeded in looking idiotic.

"Pardon, mademoiselle, but I can't forget that night. Mademoiselle is surely relieved of one fear."

"What is that?"

"The fear of being wooed because of her wealth."

Miss Arthur started, then said: "There may be something in that, Celine; and it is not impossible that I may inherit more."

"Ah?" inquiringly.

"Yes. Possibly you have learned from the servants that Mr. Arthur lost a young step-daughter not long ago; just before you came, in fact."

"I don't remember. Did she die, mademoiselle?"

"Yes. She was a very wild, unruly child, a regular little heathen--oh!"

"Pardon, oh, pardon, did it hurt?" removing a long, spiky hair pin, with much apparent solicitude.

"A--a little; yes. As I was saying, this ridiculous girl was sent to school and no expense spared to make a lady of her."

"Indeed!"

"Yes; and then she rewards my brother for all his kindness by running away."

"_Merci_, mademoiselle!" suddenly recalling her French.

"And then she died among strangers, just as provokingly as she had lived. She must even run away to die, to make it seem as if her home was not a happy one."

"What a very wicked young person; how you must have been annoyed."

"We were all deeply grieved."

"And I don't suppose that dead young woman was even grateful for that."

"Oh, there was no gratitude in her."

"Of course not! Now, mademoiselle, let me do your eyebrows," turning her about.

"But," pursued Miss Arthur, "when she died, my brother acquired unconditional control of a large fortune, and you must see that my brother is getting rather old. Well, in case of his death, a part, at least, of this fortune will become mine."

"Yes, madame."

"My brother is too much afraid to face the thought of death and make a new will, and papers are in existence that will give me the larger portion of his fortune. Of course, Mrs. Arthur will get her third."

Celine was now surprised in earnest.

Miss Arthur had spoken the truth. With shrewd foresight, she had made John Arthur sign certain papers two years before, in consideration of sundry loans from her. And of this state of affairs every one, except their two selves and the necessary lawyer, had remained in ignorance.

The girl's eyes gleamed. This was still better. It would make her vengeance more complete.

And now Miss Arthur was thrown into a state of girlish agitation by the appearance of Susan, who announced that Mr. Percy was in the drawing-room, awaiting the pleasure of his inamorata.

She bade Celine make haste with her complexion and, after the lapse of something like half an hour, swept down to welcome her lover, with a great many amber silk flounces following in her wake.

Celine Leroque gazed after her for a moment and then closed the door. Flinging herself down "at ease" in the spinster's luxurious dressing chair, she pulled off the blue glasses and let the malicious triumph dance in her eyes as much as it would.

"Oh, you are a precious pair, you two, brother and sister! The one a knave, the other a fool! It is really pathetic to see how you mourn my loss. I have a great mind to--"

Here something seemed to occur to her that checked her mutterings, and sent her off into a deep meditation. After a long stillness she uttered a low, mocking laugh that had, too, a tinge of mischief in it. Rising slowly from the dressing chair she said, as she nodded significantly to her image reflected back from Miss Arthur's dressing glass:

"I'll put that idea into execution some nice night, and then won't there be a row in the castle? Ah! my charming mistress, if you had spoken one kind or regretful word for poor Madeline, it would have been better for you!"

What was the girl meditating now? What did she mean?

"Yes, good people at Oakley, I believe I'll take a little private amusement out of you _all_, while I feel quite in the mood. I won't be too partial."

Then she betook herself to her own room and let her thoughts fly back to Olive and Claire and--Clarence.

Presently, for she was very weary, spite of the previous night's repose, she fell asleep.

Late that evening she flitted through the woods and across the meadow to the cottage of old Hagar. Sleep had refreshed her and she had dreamed pleasant dreams. She felt stout of heart, and firm of nerve.

Old Hagar was overjoyed to see a smile in her nursling's face, and to hear, at times, a laugh, low and sweet, reminding her of olden days. The girl remained with her old nurse for nearly an hour. When they parted there was a perfect understanding between them, in regard to future movements and plans.

No one at Oakley was aware of Lucian Davlin's flying visit; thus much Celine knew. But of the purport and result of that visit, she knew nothing. Nor could she guess. She must bide her time, for there seemed just now little to disturb the monotony of waiting.

One thing was, however, necessary. When the time came for Miss Arthur to leave Oakley, Celine must remain. To that end she must contrive to fall out with the spinster, and "fall in" with Madame Cora. If that lady could not be beguiled into retaining her at Oakley, she must resort to a more hazardous scheme. She had already taken a step toward ingratiating herself with Mrs. Arthur, and with tolerable success. She was maturing her plans and waiting for an opportunity to put them into action.

No doubt but that by the time she had accomplished her object, if it could be accomplished, the opposite forces would come into conflict.