CHAPTER IV.
JEALOUSY AS CRUEL AS THE GRAVE.
Miss Willoughby did not have the household waiting on the steps to welcome her visitors, for they arrived in a downpour of sleet and rain, and had to be escorted indoors under the shelter of two umbrellas.
The rain had blown into the open sides of the carriage and drenched them both, but it had not cooled the heat of the blue-eyed beauty’s temper, and, though she forced a few chilly smiles for her Aunt Cyrilla, she made up for it by violence to the luckless servants who waited on her, bringing a pretty wrapper of the old lady’s to replace her wet garments until the wagon with her trunks arrived from the station.
She lay down then on her white couch to rest, but presently her aunt came in, all anxiety, to ask about the wound to her temple, of which she had just heard from Laurie.
“Oh, no, I don’t need any court-plaster. It is nothing, a mere scratch. Please don’t fuss over it!” she said petulantly.
“Poor dear, you are nervous--and no wonder! Laurie has just been telling me all about your thrilling experience. I am very sorry it happened. Satan has always been skittish, but he never behaved so badly before. As for Saint, he is very gentle, and never gives any trouble, except when he follows his brother’s bad example. I shudder when I think what a narrow escape you and Laurie had from death! How fortunate that Gipsy came to the rescue just in the nick of time.”
“I suppose Laurie has been making her out quite a heroine to you!” sneered Lelia spitefully, as she shook out the damp lengths of her golden tresses over the back of her chair.
“You don’t like poor Gipsy any better than you did in your juvenile days, I see.”
“Why should I? She was an interloper, and had no more business at The Crags than a stray dog. I can’t understand why you have let her stay here all this while, Aunt Cyrilla!”
She was startled and angered, when the old lady replied placidly:
“Really, I don’t see how I could ever get along without Gipsy now!”
“You don’t mean that you have taken her for your maid?”
“Oh, no, not that! I still have Lucinda, the mulatto; though, like her mistress, she is getting old and feeble. But since my faithful companion and secretary, Mrs. Bond, died six months ago, Gipsy has just slipped into her place, and fulfils her duties remarkably well.”
Lelia’s heart gave a strangling throb of jealous anger, and she said bitterly:
“You don’t mean that you stooped to educate the gipsy brat--made a lady of such scum!”
Miss Willoughby, without in the least comprehending the depth of her niece’s rage, returned somewhat huffily:
“I think nature made a lady of her in the beginning, Lelia, for Gipsy has never been any trouble to any one, and has gained friends where least expected.”
“Laurie for one!” cried Lelia furiously.
“Oh, my dear, you talk like you were jealous! Can’t you trust Laurie, who has been devoted to you all your life?”
“I am not jealous, Aunt Cy, I despise the gipsy, that is all, and I am astonished that you should have wasted your money giving her an education.”
Her cheeks flamed scarlet, her blue eyes blazed, she looked like an incarnate fury; but she was holding herself in as well as she could, in her rage and amazement at all she was hearing.
Miss Willoughby said firmly, as though defending herself:
“I don’t think money was ever wasted in educating any one, Lelia, but I am sorry I cannot take the credit of ever spending anything to improve poor Gipsy’s mind. In fact, I never noticed her, and she just ran wild about the place until her foster mother, Jane Dobbs, got married, and her husband refused to adopt the waif. So, in her extremity, Heaven raised her up another good friend.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, this time it was my secretary, Mrs. Bond. Ever since she came to me, two years before, she had admired the child, and pitied her. So she said to Jane: ‘I’ll care for Gipsy, if Miss Willoughby will permit me. I’ve no one to spend my money on, and I’ll pay her board at The Crags, and teach her something, so that by and by she can go out into the world and earn her own living.’”
“I should think she might do that by telling fortunes and stealing!” cried Lelia sharply.
“How severe you are, Lelia--just like your father!” commented her aunt, continuing:
“But as I was saying about Mrs. Bond’s kind offer, I told her that Gipsy was welcome to her board, and that little room next to hers, and that she might do whatever else she pleased for her, it would be no concern of mine. I didn’t know till long afterward that they had a night-school up in her room for years, and that Gipsy got thoroughly grounded in all that she needed, and can even play the piano and sing like a bird, besides running the typewriter as well as Mrs. Bond herself. So when the poor woman, who had been in a decline for years, was dying of consumption, and I was saying how hard it would be for me now to get used to a new secretary, she begged me to try Gipsy, saying she had been training her a long time to fill her place acceptably, and was sure she could do it.”
“So you actually employed her, aunt?”
“Yes, and she has given me perfect satisfaction,” the old lady answered quickly, to Lelia’s infinite chagrin.
She said bitterly:
“This is a great surprise to me, and I may add, a great disappointment. I did not bring a maid with me, for mama remembered that girl, and she said you would no doubt let her wait upon me while I am here.”
Miss Willoughby did not hesitate to answer bluntly:
“Oh, dear, no, the plan would not be feasible at all. These gipsies, you know, have free, proud blood, that would never brook a condition of servitude. Besides, I am always needing Gipsy myself. She has become, as it were, eyes and hands to my old age, and no one else could fill her place.”
Every word she was uttering filled Lelia’s mind with dread and chagrin.
This was what her mother had often predicted--that the cranky old maid might become fond of Gipsy, might even adopt her and make her an heiress. She ought to be got rid of somehow before such a fatal thing happened, complained Mrs. Ritchie.
Lelia said to herself in dismay:
“It has almost happened. The artful piece has already wormed herself into Aunt Cy’s heart, and the rest is apt to follow. We have let this thing run on too long without taking active steps to get her away from The Crags. There is a new danger for me, too. Laurie is deeply interested in her, more than he realizes in his foolish gratitude. For she really didn’t run any risk stopping those horses. She said they would obey her least word. Oh, what shall I do to rid myself of this interloper, who has crossed my path in so fatal a fashion?”
Controlling her passionate anger with a strong effort of will, she exclaimed bitterly:
“Grant me at least one favor, dear Aunt Cyrilla. Do not thrust this girl upon us, expecting us to treat her as an equal, or show her any kindness.”
Miss Willoughby was plainly nettled at her niece’s lofty tone, and she said with asperity:
“I should indeed be stupid to think it of you, Lelia, knowing all your pride, and how cruelly you treated the poor little tot in her childhood; besides acting ungratefully toward her now, after she has saved your life!”
“Oh, Aunt Cy, this from you, when I have not visited you before for five years! Oh, I am sorry I came! I will go back to mama to-morrow!” sobbed Lelia, in commingled rage and grief.
“You will do nothing of the kind, my dear child. You are silly and overwrought, and nursing a foolish jealousy of Gipsy Darke to-day, but by to-morrow you will feel better, and own yourself ashamed of this childish outbreak of spleen. I am not going to thrust poor Gipsy upon either you or Laurie, and you will scarcely know she is at The Crags, for she has her work to do, and at other times is mostly out in the open air.”
“Gipsylike!” sneered Lelia.
“Yes, if you wish to call it that,” Miss Willoughby returned dryly, adding, with patient kindness:
“I hope you will get over this little spell soon, Lelia, and enjoy your visit to The Crags; for, together with our nearest neighbors, I have planned many pleasant things for you and Laurie. We will have a house-party of ten, including yourselves, and no pains will be spared to contribute to your daily pleasure and entertainment.”