CHAPTER XII.

A CLOUD.

Two years had gone by since Scott's marriage, when one evening he entered his wife's room and found her standing before the mirror putting the finishing touches to her rich and becoming toilet. Scott's brain was weary, for he had been studying all day over a very perplexing case which he had set out to win, and with very little foundation to work on. He threw himself on the soft velvet cushions of the crimson sofa, placing his hand over his brow, as if to still the throbbing of his temples. Irene, dressed in a pale pink satin, with sweeping train and airy lace overdress looped up with moss rosebuds, with diamond set necklace and bracelets, and the tip of her satin slipper just in view, presented a very pretty picture to Scott, but he was somewhat surprised that she did not speak, or even smile.

"Are you going out?" he asked.

"Oh, Scott! I almost forgot that you were here."

"So I observe."

"Yes, I meant to have spoken of it before. Of course you know that this is the night of the Vandyke ball."

"I had not thought of it."

"Why do you not go?"

"I did not know that anyone wished me to," he answered.

"Oh, dear! Of course you know that I wish you to go, but you are such a recluse of late that you almost seem out of place in society."

"Perhaps I am out of place. It would almost seem that I am out of place in my wife's society."

"How you talk! You have a right to go if you wish. I suppose you were included in the invitation."

"I suppose I have a right, but I have no desire."

"Then I am not to blame."

"Who attends you?"

"Colonel Brunswick."

"That villain? You shall not go with him," he said, starting up.

"Shall not?" she repeated, turning quickly.

"Excuse me, Irene, but it is my wish that you ignore that man's society at once."

"He is one of the most stylish men of my acquaintance."

"He has no principle."

"Oh, Scott!" she said, with a toss of her head. "Really, you do put a wonderful amount of stress on virtue, and think as little of style as though you were raised among a band of gypsies."

Scott's lips closed firmly. Such words from his wife astonished him. He arose, and trying to hide the wound which her words had caused, he said, as he came nearer:

"Irene, it is my wish that you either remain at home or allow me to be your escort."

"How you talk! That would be unreasonable, since I have promised the colonel."

"And you gave your consent without first consulting your husband?"

"Why, yes; I knew you would not think it proper; and you are so taken up with drudgery that you do not seem to care for society, and the colonel really wishes me to go."

"Are his wishes to be consulted before mine?"

"Why, no; but really, Scott, you are making a great ado about nothing. If you went into society more you would see how very fashionable it is for married ladies to allow gentlemen, not their husbands, to escort them to parties."

Scott Wilmer folded his arms across his breast, and with his searching hazel eyes fixed upon his wife's face, he said:

"Irene, if you leave this house to-night with Colonel Brunswick as your escort you do so entirely against my will. I forbid the action."

She fastened her rich carriage cloak with nervous fingers, but she did not say that she would remain. She was too vain to think of giving up the pleasure of being the chosen one of the handsomest and most stylishly dressed gentleman who would be at the party. She was not possessed of enough depth of character to see how vastly superior was the man before her to the handsome, unscrupulous villain who was to bear her company. She did not realize the full value of the pearl she was casting away, and in her weakness she answered:

"I go, leaving you _bon gre, mal gre_."

"He is a bold, unscrupulous villain," said Scott, with a scornful ring in his voice.

"I guess no one thinks so but yourself," Irene answered, angrily, "and you would not if your tastes were----"

"What?"

"_Comme il faut._"

"Thank you!" said Scott, stung to the heart. "I am glad it is so, then. Are you going?"

"I see no way to avoid it now, for the colonel would be much displeased as well as disappointed."

"Very well," he said, closing his mouth in a way that Irene knew just how to interpret.

A knock was heard at the door, and Paul, with a low bow, announced a gentleman waiting in the parlor for Mrs. Wilmer.

"_Au revoir, mon cher!_" said Irene, waving her gloved hand to Scott, who stood gazing after her as she left the room.

"Good bye, Irene!" he said, in a firm, low voice. Then he heard the hall door close, and he knew his wife had gone--left his home regardless of his wishes, or the opinion of others, for a few hours of giddy pleasure.

In the last year she had grown careless of his wishes and more selfish in regard to her own. It seemed that she was growing more fond of the gay world, more desirous of flattery, and more regardless of home happiness.

Scott tried to cover her faults with the generosity of his love, but they were daily becoming more and more apparent. He began to think that the faults had always been there, and that for a time she had been enabled to hide them, and that now, in her weakness, she was unable to do so. The truth was she was simply showing out her nature, which she had deemed it prudent heretofore to conceal.

But she was a Wilmer now, and there was not so much necessity to exert herself to conceal them. She knew, as did others, that she dressed with exquisite taste, and that no lady passed her on the street without a flattering comment. But aside from the outside adornments and fair face none ever thought of praising her. She was two years older than Scott, but she took great care that it should not be spoken of. Scott's family were highly esteemed, and he was called a talented man, and was wealthy. That was Irene's reason for wishing to become a Wilmer. But though Irene grew more and more careless, and less fond of her own home, Scott tried to hide her faults from others, resolving to do his best to persuade her to give up some of her vain, trifling pleasures, and he would do all in his power to make her happy.

As Irene left the house Scott followed Paul to the library. Seating himself beside Paul, he said:

"Paul, I wish to give you some instruction in regard to a little business which I wish you to do for me. In the meantime I wish to ask you why you pass so little of your time in the library of late. Are you tired of your studies?"

"I have not left off my studies, Mr. Wilmer."

"You do not come to the library as much as usual; why is it?"

Paul cast his eyes to the floor. At length he said in a tremulous voice:

"I study in my room."

"That is a new freak, is it not? Do you prefer it?"

"No, sir."

"Then why have you abandoned the habit of coming to the library?"

"I would rather not tell you."

Scott looked searchingly at the boy for a moment and said:

"Paul, I think there is some reason why you have ceased to come to the library. It may be a good reason or a flimsy one; but there is a reason, and I wish to know it."

"Mr. Wilmer, there is a reason, and a very good one; will not that satisfy you?"

"No; I must know what it is."

"You have a right to know, but I would rather you did not."

"Paul," he said, "you have been in my home for some time, and since you came you have never disobeyed me in any way, or deceived me by one act; will you begin it now?"

Paul was silent, and Scott continued:

"It may be a trivial matter, but I wish to know it."

Paul paused a moment, and then as the tears dropped from his heavy lashes, he said:

"Mr. Wilmer, I do not care for myself, but I know it will grieve you. It was Mrs. Wilmer who ordered me to stay away."

"What! my mother?"

"No, sir; your wife."

"What reason did she give?"

"She said she wished to occupy it herself a greater part of the time."

"Is she really so selfish?" Scott asked.

"I think she had a good reason, or she would not have told me so."

"There is another subject that I wish to speak of, and that is the use of your money. You never seem to indulge in any extravagant pleasure, as many a boy does, and I would like to ask you what you are doing with it?"

Paul blushed as he answered:

"I have saved all but that which was necessary for me to spend."

"That is a good plan. I have no doubt you will use it judiciously."

"I hope to place it where it will bring me more value some day."

"One thing more I wish to say to you. Then you may be left to your studies. I wish you to do an errand for me to-morrow evening which I cannot well do for myself, as I shall be busy at the time. I am to meet a friend at the depot who is to take the midnight train, and as it will be impossible for me to be there at that hour, and there is no other whom I feel like trusting, I would like you to do the errand for me. You will not be afraid to be out alone, will you?"

Paul laughed at the idea of a boy of his age being afraid in a little city like Detroit.

Scott left Paul and went to his own room. His brain was too busy for sleep, and he sat down and fell into a deep study. It seemed that there was a world of things on hand to-night. First, there was that intricate suit that he was about to undertake. He was gaining great popularity as a lawyer, and some very important suits had been given into his hands to work up, and now he was about to undertake one which involved a great deal of careful study. Then there was a young man who had held a consultation with him in regard to June. He was desperately in love with her and wished Scott to intercede for him. Then there was Colonel Brunswick, to whom his mind reverted, who was, no doubt, playing the agreeable to his wife, while others were pitying him because she had neglected him for the colonel. He sat studying upon one subject and another, until, weary in body and mind, he sought his couch.