"Then his name--his name is--is not----"

Now here was a situation for a diplomat. To say that Bra.s.sfield was an a.s.sumed name, an alias, was to shock the girl's womanish conservatism to its very base. Madame le Claire proved herself a diplomat.

"Why," said she, as if the matter were, after all, of no importance, "the name of Bra.s.sfield is his, legally, Judge Blodgett says, and morally. These business names, as distinguished from others, are quite common now, I am told--take mine, for instance. Eugene Bra.s.sfield was not his name until five years ago, when this happened. He is really Florian Amidon, son of the chemist Wilford Amidon, of whom, I have no doubt, you have read."

The fact that the name of Wilford Amidon had never reached her ears, did not occur to Elizabeth. Madame le Claire's choice of expression sounded like the announcement that Florian was a prince just throwing off his incognito. The subtle sophistry of this way of putting it found grateful harborage in Elizabeth's hungry soul. For a moment she felt comforted. Then came back the thought that, after all, she had found out nothing of the matters she had come to search out.

"It is very strange," said she, "but, after all, it only adds to the mystery. Why did he do those things? Did you make him do them? And why did he say that he knew Mrs. Hunter, and then deny it? And if he knew about his past when he said he knew her, did he not know it as well afterward? I can not be blinded to these matters by a statement of things merely mysterious and strange. I must have----"

"My friend," said Madame le Claire, "all these things will be explained, trust me. The person tapping at the outer door is Judge Blodgett with Mr. Am----with your future husband. Things will occur of which you should know, and which can not take place if they know you are here. It will be most honorable for you to stay. Remain here and note well what happens, and you will get much light on your troubles, and on his--of some of which you do not yet know, which I do not understand, but which will be cleared up. You will say nothing, but watch and listen."

Before Miss Waldron could protest, the other woman was gone. Florian and Judge Blodgett were brought into the middle room, and seated with their faces from the portiere, behind which Elizabeth waited, wondering what she should do, feeling that she had the right to know, and obedient to the mesmerist's commands. Mr. Amidon began _in medias res_, too full of grim determination for any circ.u.mlocution.

"Madame le Claire," said he, "recently, as I sat at supper, I was notified that this Miss Scarlett has begun suit against me for breach of promise."

"Yes," said Madame le Claire, "I have heard of it. It is most unjust."

Elizabeth, astounded at Amidon's statement, heard her new friend's reply as some far-off note of succor in doubtful and deadly battle.

She sat close, now, and listened.

"Ever since I came to myself," went on Amidon, "and through your wonderful power found out about this life of mine here in Bellevale, the name of Miss Scarlett has come up from time to time as connected with it. I have always shrunk from having you find out just what our--relations--have been, and the whole thing has been dark to me--dark and forbidding. What wrong I--this man Bra.s.sfield--may have done her, I can not know without your aid. I must know this, now. If she has been wronged, she shall have reparation, as full as I can give."

"What do you mean," said Madame le Claire--and Elizabeth held her breath--"by full reparation?"

"First let us know the wrong! If that exists, the reparation will be for Miss Scarlett and her advisers to name."

"But they may name the keeping of the promise they say you have made!"

"I have thought that all over."

"But your engagement to----"

"The lady you are about to mention," said Amidon, "must have ceased to care much for me, after what I am told took place the other night; and when she learns of this other disgrace, as she must before she sees me again--if she ever does--it will be all over--for ever--except the wrong to her--for which reparation can never be made. I----"

"Oh, it is too dreadful!" cried Madame le Claire. "And for that worst thing--the other night--I only am to blame! I put into you the character in which you have become weak and drawn aside by suggestions not natural to your own character. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I have never thought of blaming you!" he protested. "You? Why, no one ever had so good a friend; all the chance I have had to win happiness here, you gave me. I have lost that--by misfortune. Now help me to make things as near right as I can. Put me back into the world of Bra.s.sfield, and let me know the worst that I--he--has done."

"Coom een!" said the voice of the professor in the corridor. "Coom een! Clara iss not here now: den she must be someveres. Pe bleaced to sit vile I look. Anyhow, she vill soon return. Ach, Herr c.o.x, ve missed you creatly at our supper--eatings of reasons and sdreams of souls! Ach! Here iss our friendt te chutche, ant Herr Amidon--Bra.s.sfield, I mean!"

Madame le Claire appeared in the archway.

"Ah, Miss Scarlett," said she, "you are early. May I ask you to return, in----"

"No!" It was the voice of Miss Scarlett which replied. "No, I'm not going! And if 'Gene Bra.s.sfield is in there, Billy c.o.x has something to say to him. Here, Mr. Alvord, you come in, too; he's out there hunting for 'Gene. Billy, do your duty now!"

"Pardon me," said Mr. c.o.x, advancing into the next room, followed by Miss Scarlett. "Pardon me, Judge Blodgett, I have a few words for you and your client. Miss Scarlett has made me agree to apologize to Mr.

Bra.s.sfield about that summons; and if 'Gene Bra.s.sfield thinks I owe him any apology for putting it on to him a little before his out-of-town friends, I'll make it. But here are the facts, and he knows it: for four years he's been rawhiding me at every chance with his practical jokes. He had me arrested and detained for a whole day on fake telegrams at Wilkesbarre, only last fall; and just before that he got everybody at the Springs to thinking I was Tascott, and induced a rural constable to take me into custody. Why, Alvord here in his worst estate hasn't been as bad as he's been. If he's lost any opportunity, I don't remember it; and, of course, I've got back once in a while, and may be about even. But everything has been good-natured and brotherly, as ought to be between members of the gang. _And_, of course, when the cannon-crackers began to go off that night, I knew he was doing it. I was over in Major Pumphrey's parlor, where Daisy had invited me, during the eruption, and I told her about these things, and wished for some way of getting even, and--and some one spoke of this breach of promise suit, and we--that is, I--got up the summons, and I told Ed Tootle to serve it on you at your orgy--you had no business to expect me to enter any free-for-all inebriates' compet.i.tion--you know that, 'Gene! It may have been a little extreme as a joke; but if you'd laughed it off as you always do, n.o.body would have thought anything of it except to chaff you about it. But what do you do? You make as serious a thing of it as if you hadn't been trotting with our crowd for five years or so.

You set this old--my learned friend from the West--briefing it up, and you make a fool of me. Worse than that, you place Daisy in a most objectionable position; and, by George, 'Gene, I claim the apology is due from you, to me and Daisy!"

That he, Florian Amidon, had ever been guilty of playing such pranks as the ones described by Mr. c.o.x, seemed incredible; but his sense of relief at the way his burden rolled away in the light of c.o.x's indignant apology overcame all other sensations. He sprang forward to offer his hand cordially to Mr. c.o.x.

"I agree with you!" said he. "I do owe you an apology, and I freely offer it. As for the offense I have given Miss Scarlett, I can only say that I have had a very strange mental experience lately, of which my friends here can tell you, or I should never have--never have taken the matter--as I did. I beg you both to forgive me!"

"'Gene," said Miss Scarlett, offering her hand, "I'm too game a sport to go mourning because I lost out, and you ought to have known--I declare, I believe you've been crazy! I told Billy--Billy and I are engaged, now, and are really going to be married--I told Billy how, when we were at the watering-place, I insisted that it seemed a shame not to be engaged, and how we fixed it to be engaged for a week, and it made him furious! But as good a fellow as I've been, the way you took our joke was shabby. You people may know some good excuse, but----"

Madame le Claire was not only a diplomat: she was a strategist. Now, she saw, was the supreme moment in which to complete for Florian the good work she had begun.

"Please excuse Mr. Bra.s.sfield," said sha. "He is wanted in the back parlor; come, Mr. Bra.s.sfield, give me your arm!"

Through the portiere she swept, bearing Amidon as on wings. There sat Elizabeth, her face bowed down upon her arms, on the back of a sofa.

She rose as they entered.

"Elizabeth!" cried Florian. "My darling!"

He stretched out his hands pleadingly, and walked toward her. She shrank back; and Madame le Claire retreated, knowing that the struggle of Amidon's life was before him.

Yet, gentle reader, why should not Amidon win? To us, a thousand things might seem to need explanation; but to Elizabeth, all this separation of Amidon from Bra.s.sfield was so new, so little realized, that her love bridged the chasm, and nothing was required except the clearing up of a week or two of curious happenings, most of which had already been so glozed over by Madame le Claire's generous plea, that what girl in love would require any greater price in humble wooing than Florian yearned to pay? Why, mesmerism alone covers all sorts of odd and suspicious doings. The case, for instance, of---- But that is beside the point. The point is, that with half of Bra.s.sfield's skill, Amidon will win handsomely. Some scenes ought not to be painted--in this plain and flippant prose. Let us wait, therefore, until the arrival of the voices of Florian and Elizabeth at the pitch of ordinary conversation admonishes us that the prose writer's psychological moment has arrived. Then we may take and transcribe some notes.

"Of course," Florian said, "he must have had some redeeming traits--superficially, or you would never have cared for him----"

"Oh, don't say such things!" she protested. "Your real, real self came uppermost, I am sure, in your behavior to me. You were perfectly lovely, even if you didn't understand me as I wanted you to do--as you do now."

"Dearest!" he whispered. "You never loved him as you do me, did you?"

That little laugh that first charmed him filled the pause.

"Don't say 'him!'" she commanded. "Think of the original absurdity of being jealous of a rival, and that rival yourself! And remember that 'he' was my sweetheart, and for my own sake, don't abuse him. Why, it was you all the time; and I always felt, even at the worst, that hidden in the Bra.s.sfield personality was the one man for me in all the world.

It was this woman's instinct, that men never believe in, and the girl's eyesight. I look at you, and I know you are the same. Don't slander yourself as you appeared in your other mental clothes. I won't have it--but don't change back, dear!"

"But really," said Elizabeth, "is it necessary for us to live in Bellevale?"

"Would you go away--with me?"

There was a silence here, during which something seemed to take place which removed the necessity of answer; for surely, Elizabeth would not have allowed this question to go unanswered otherwise.

"Oh," said she, "there are more places I want to go, and more things I want to see and study--you never would believe it! It will take years and years."

"Well, why not?" answered Florian. "'Whether in Naishapur or Babylon', I want to go to every one of those places myself--and always have. We won't build that house. We'll have Blodgett stay and look after the closing up of the business here by Stevens. We'll run out home so I can say hail and farewell to Jennie and greet my new nephews and nieces there, and then, ho! for j.a.pan and India and the East, on our way to those high places where you want to erect your idolatrous altars.

Elizabeth! Do you realize what a Paradise we're planning?"

"There!" she said quaveringly. "I knew it was too perfect to be true, and that we'd find some obstacle, and I've found it! That miserable office you'll have to fill!"

Chillingly the wet blanket descended on their fervid joy, and they looked at each other in consternation. This public call on Mr.

Bra.s.sfield now became an incubus to Mr. Amidon, pinning him to earth as he essayed to rise and fly. Gradually, as he looked fondly in his lady-love's face, the hope dawned in his heart that perhaps her desire that he should have a "career" might not be much greater than his.

"Dear," said he at last, "would you feel very sorely disappointed if we were to give it up--the state and national capital life, and all that?"