CHAPTER XXXVIII.

WAS IT A VICTORY?

“The battle is won. There will be no more trouble between Laurie and his bride now. How beautiful she looked lying there with her golden hair loose upon the pillow, her white neck and arms gleaming through the lace of her snowy robe! No man in his senses could resist such charms!” Mrs. Ritchie thought complacently, as she retired to her own apartment with the triumphant pride of a general who has scored a great victory.

She sat down by the open window, musing over the events of the past two weeks.

She had had a lasting disappointment in Lelia’s failure to inherit Miss Willoughby’s money.

In the privacy of their own apartments she and Lelia showered the old woman’s memory with maledictions, and entirely forgot to be grateful for the liberal legacies they had received.

They congratulated themselves on the master-stroke by which they had inveigled Laurie into marriage, for otherwise they would have lost him as well as the money.

As he was wealthy through a fortune inherited from his mother and would also come in for his father’s wealth, he was a prize greatly to be desired by a girl whose own fortune was very much less than outsiders supposed.

Besides, Lelia loved him with the passion of her life.

She declared passionately to her mother that nothing would console her for the loss of the money but to regain Laurie’s love, lost by her jealousy and ill temper.

As she sat by the window gazing out into the summer night, and slowly pulling the pins from her fair hair, she congratulated herself that all would be plain sailing now.

“They will be like two turtle doves directly, and I hope they will go off very soon on a long bridal-tour, and give me a rest, for really I am a little unnerved by all that has happened. And then those frightful nights with Lelia before that girl went away were very trying. I am glad she does not dream those frightful things any more!” and she stood up and shook back her loosened hair, yawning with weariness.

How quiet and still was everything after the late excitement and trouble! The Crags began to take on its calm, reposeful aspect again.

“I shall sleep well to-night,” she murmured, drawing down her curtain.

Then she started and turned her head toward the door.

Was that a low, deprecating rap?

Yes, it came again, a little louder, distinctly impatient.

With a quickened heart-throb she threw the door open.

There was Laurie, very pale and startled-looking outside.

“Will you come to Lelia? She is acting very strangely,” he said, in a tense voice.

Her heart sank, but she determined to brave it out. Forcing a calm demeanor, she said:

“You know I told you that she has been ill and nervous ever since the trouble happened about that girl; she has had bad dreams about the attempted murder, fancying the most absurd things! But for several nights she has been improving, and really I am too tired to go to her to-night. I am sure that you can soothe her without my assistance. Wake her and tell her she has been having bad dreams, and she will be herself again directly.”

“You refuse to come?” sternly.

“I beg your pardon, but I am too weary. I was just about retiring. Do leave me to rest, that’s a dear boy!” coaxingly.

“Very well, have your way,” and he turned on his heel.

She shut the door softly, with a frightened face.

“What could I do if I went? She is having that horrible dream again, and I thought she was cured! It is only a dream; Laurie must get used to it, the sooner the better, and my presence can do no earthly good. Why did she fall asleep so soon? She could barely have spoken a word to him. I must have given her too much of the anodyne.”

She sank back into her chair irresolute, feeling that fate had played her a dastardly trick, and wondering what would be the outcome of it all.

General Willoughby, on the other side of the hall, hearing the voices in dispute, came out in his dressing-gown just as Mrs. Ritchie closed her door.

“Is anything wrong?” he whispered, and his son returned:

“I am troubled over Lelia. She seems to be ill and wandering in her mind; but her mother refuses to come to my assistance. What shall I do?”

“Let me see her. Perhaps I can be of some help. She may have a fever. As a child she talked in her sleep when not well.”

“Come, then,” Laurie answered gratefully, and led the way to his bride’s room, adding: “I hope she has quieted down by now, for it is simply frightful!”