Richard Vandermarck Part 6

"I wonder Uncle Leonard let you off so soon."

"He growled a good deal, but I did not stay to listen."

"That's always the best way."

"And now, Pauline, tell me how you like the place."

"Like it! Oh, Richard, I think it is a Paradise," and I clasped my hands in a young sort of ecstacy.

He was silent, which was a sign that he was satisfied. I went on after a moment, "I don't wonder that you all love it. I never saw anything half so beautiful. The dear old house is prettier than any new one that could be built, and the trees are so grand! And oh, Richard, I think the garden lying on the hillside there in the beautiful warm sun, with such royal flowers and fruit, is worth all the grape-houses and conservatories in the neighborhood. Your sister took us to three or four of the neighboring places a week or two ago. But I like this a hundred times the best. I should think you would be sorry every moment that you have to spend away from it."

"I hope one of these days to live here altogether," he said in a low tone.

It was so difficult for Richard to be unreserved that it is very likely this was the first time in his life that he had ever expressed this, the brightest hope he had.

I could fancy all these few words implied--a wife, children, a happy home in manhood where he had been a happy child.

"It belongs to Kilian and me, but it is understood I have the right to it when I am ready for it."

"And your sister--it does not belong at all to her?"

"No, she only keeps house for us. It would make a great change for Sophie if either of us married. But then I know that it would give her pleasure, for I am sure that she would not be selfish."

I was not so sure, but, of course, I did not say so. At this moment, while Richard smoked and I walked silently beside him, a dark figure struck directly across the path before us. The apparition was so sudden that I sprang and screamed, and caught Richard by the arm.

"I beg your pardon," said the tutor, with a quick look of surprise at me and then at Richard, and bowing, strode on into the house.

"That's the German Sophie has taken for the boys, is it?" said Richard, knitting his brows, and looking after him, with no great approbation. "I don't half like the idea of his being here: I told Sophie so at starting. A governess would do as well for two years yet. What kind of a person does he seem to be?"

"I don't know--that is--I can't tell exactly. I don't know him well enough," I answered in confusion, which Richard did not see.

"No, of course not. You would not be likely to see him except at the table. But it is awkward having him here,--so much of the week, no man about; and one never knows anything about these Germans."

"I thought--your sister said--you knew all about him," I said, in rather a low voice.

"As much as one needs to know about a mere teacher. But the person you have in your house all the time is different."

"But he is a gentleman," I put in more firmly.

"I hope he is. He had letters to some friends of ours. But what are letters? People give them when they're asked for them, and half the time know nothing of the person for whom they do the favor, besides his name and general standing. Hardly that, sometimes." Then, as if to put away a tiresome and unwelcome subject, he began again to talk about the place.

But I had lost my interest in the subject, and thought only of returning to the house.

"Don't," I said, playfully putting out my hand as he took out another cigar to light. "You have smoked enough to-night. Do you know, you smoke a great deal more than is good for you."

"Well, I will not smoke any more to-night if you say so. Only don't go in the house."

"Oh, yes, you know we only came out to smoke."

He stood in front of the path that led to the piazza and said, in an affectionate, gentle way, "Stay and walk a little longer. I have not told you half how glad I am that you are here at last."

"Oh, as for that, you've got a good many weeks to tell me in. Besides, it's getting chilly," and I gave a little s.h.i.+ver.

"If you're cold, of course," he said, letting me pa.s.s and following me, and added, with a shade of anxiety, "Why didn't you tell me before? I never thought of it, and you have no shawl."

I felt ashamed of myself as I led the way up the piazza steps.

In the hall, which was quite light, they were all standing, and Mr.

Langenau was in the group. They were pet.i.tioning him for music.

"Oh, he has promised that he will sing," said Sophie; "but remember he has not had his tea. I have ordered it for you, Mr. Langenau; it will be ready in a moment."

Mr. Langenau bowed and turned to go up the stairs. His eye met mine, as I came into the light, dazzled a little by it.

He went up the stairs; the others after a few moments, went into the parlor. I sat down on a sofa beside Mrs. Hollenbeck. Richard was called away by a person on business. There was a shaded lamp on a bracket above the sofa where we sat; Mrs. Hollenbeck was reading some letters she had just received, and I took up the evening paper, reading over and over an advertis.e.m.e.nt of books. Presently the servant came to Mrs. Hollenbeck and said that Mr. Langenau's tea was ready. She was sent up to tell him so, and in a few moments he came down. When he reached the hall, Sophie looked up with her most lovely smile.

"You must be famished, Mr. Langenau; pray go immediately to the dining-room. I am sorry not to make your tea myself, but I hear Benny waking and must go to him. Will you mind taking my place, Pauline, and pouring out tea for Mr. Langenau?"

I was bending over the paper; my face turned suddenly from red to pale.

I said something inaudible in reply, and got up and went into the dining-room, followed by the tutor.

It was several minutes before I looked at him. The servants had not favored us with much light: there was a branch of wax candles in the middle of the table. Mr. Langenau's plate was placed just at one side of the tray, at which I had seated myself. He looked pale, even to his lips. I began to think of the terrible walks in which he seemed to hunt himself down, and to wonder what was the motive, though I had often wondered that before. He took the cup of tea I offered him without speaking. Neither of us spoke for several minutes, then I said, rather irresolutely, "I am sure you tire yourself by these long walks."

"Do you think so? No: they rest me."

No doubt I felt more coquettish, and had more confidence than usual, from the successes of that evening, and from the knowledge that Richard and Kilian and Eugene Whitney, even, were so delighted to talk to me; otherwise I could never have said what I said then, by a sudden impulse, and with a half-laughing voice, "Do not go away again so long; it makes it so dull and tiresome."

He looked at me and said, "It does not seem to me you miss me very much." But such a gleam of those dark, dangerous eyes! I looked down, but my breath came quickly and my face must have shown the agitation that I felt.

At this moment Richard, released from his engagement in the library, came through the hall and stopped at the dining-room door. He paused for a moment at the door, walked away again, then came back and into the room, with rather a quicker step than usual.

"Pauline," he said, and I started visibly, "They seem to be waiting for you in the parlor for a game of cards."

His voice indicated anything but satisfaction. I half rose, then sank back, and said, hesitatingly, "Can I pour you some more tea, Mr.

Langenau?"

"If it is not troubling you too much," he said in a voice that a moment's time had hardened into sharpness.

Oh, the misery of that cup of tea, with Richard looking at me on one side flushed and angry, and Mr. Langenau on the other, pale and cynical.

My hands shook so that I could not lift the teakettle, and Richard angrily leaned down and moved it for me. The alcohol in the lamp flamed up and scorched my arm.

"Oh Richard, you have burned me," I cried, dropping the cup and wrapping my handkerchief around my arm. In an instant he was all softness and kindness, and, I have no doubt, repentance.

"I am very sorry," he said; "Does it hurt you very much? Come with me, and I will get Sophie to put something on it."

But Mr. Langenau did not move or show any interest in my sufferings. I was half-crying, but I sat still and tried with the other hand to replace the cup and fill it. Seeing that I did not make much headway, and that Richard had stepped back, Mr. Langenau said, "Allow me," and held the cup while I managed to pour the tea into it. He thanked me stiffly, and without looking at either of them I got up and went out of the room, Richard following me.

"Will you wait here while I call Sophie to get something for you?" he said a little coldly.