The Silver Lining - Part 24
Library

Part 24

"I think I shall go," she said to herself.

She spoke to her father about it. He answered her not unkindly: "I believe you would travel twenty miles to see a flower; if you wish to go, you may."

She dressed herself in a dainty costume, set out, and arrived in St.

Peter-Port just as the clock of the Town Church struck five. Going to the market, she paid the entrance fee, and proceeded leisurely to examine the flowers.

While she was doing so, Frank Mathers entered the exhibition, utterly unconscious of her being there. He was walking about in the crowd, which, as evening approached, was getting thicker and thicker, when he perceived Adele intently bent upon examining the cut flowers.

He was quite upset. When he had recovered sufficiently to think; "She is alone, why is not her lover with her," he mused. He could not unravel this mystery.

Hope sprang within him; he shook it off. "He will be back presently," he said to himself; "she is waiting for him while pretending to examine the flowers."

He gazed upon her with admiration, unheeding the throng that continually jostled him.

Suddenly, he was startled by a burst of laughter behind him. He turned round to ascertain its cause.

Two burly fellows who were watching him, were having a merry time of it at his expense.

He moved from his place and walked away, pa.s.sing quite close to Adele, who did not notice him. He stopped a few paces from her, watching her narrowly all the time.

She looked up, saw him, recognised him, and nodded. He raised his hat; then, a strange delicacy of feeling overcoming him, he walked away.

Adele saw him go and felt stung. Why had he not spoken to her? he might have done so. She had been on the point of advancing towards him, and he seemed to have deliberately avoided her.

"I was not mistaken when I fancied he loved another one," she said to herself. In spite of that, she walked in a contrary direction to him, hoping to meet him, a thing which she could not fail to do if they both kept advancing in contrary directions. She did not stop to think that he would perhaps pa.s.s haughtily by her. Love is blind.

Like the two gentlemen who circ.u.mnavigated the globe, the two young people met. Frank inquired after Mr. Rougeant's health, and made a few remarks about the exhibition. He always expected to see her intended appear on the scene. Finally, he ventured to ask: "Are you quite alone?" "Yes, quite," she answered.

They walked together for fully one hour, examining the flowers and fruit. "Is not this a beautiful specimen of the Dahlia?" Adele asked, pointing to a flower of that name.

"I am afraid I do not possess the necessary qualifications to form an opinion," he said; "I have not studied botany."

"I think you would find the study very captivating," she said; "our little island contains quite a number of beautiful specimens. There are a great many hard names to learn, but I feel certain that you would soon overcome that difficulty."

"You have a rather high opinion of my intellectual powers," he said; "I feel quite flattered. For the present, I will abide by your decisions. The flowers that you will praise, I shall call beautiful; those that you will condemn, I shall call ugly."

"I shall not condemn any," said she, "all flowers are beautiful to my eyes, only some are more perfect than others."

"You love flowers?" he questioned.

"Immensely, they are almost my constant companions; I should like to possess the whole of this collection," said Adele.

"All to yourself. Is it not a trifle selfish?" he said, looking at her with a pair of laughing blue eyes.

"Perhaps it is. Look at this beautiful collection of ferns." She began to name them. "This one on the left is _Adiantum Capillus Veneris_, or _Maiden Hair_, a rare European species; this one is _Adiantum Pedantum_, of American origin, and that one behind there, which is partly hidden, is _Adiantum Cuneatum_."

"I will not learn botany," he said; "you have quite frightened me with all those Latin names; when I wish to know the name of some plant, I shall come and ask you."

"I shall be delighted if I can be of any service to you," she said ingenuously. Frank thought these words were significant, but they were not.

Adele was anxious to get home early. Frank saw "Les Marches" that evening with hopeful eyes.

Afterwards, they often met. One day, Tom Soher, who was now completely cured, came face to face with his cousin Adele, who was accompanied by Frank. He stopped short, looked hard at his cousin, then resumed his walk.

When Tom was a little way off, Frank said to Adele: "What a queer fellow, one would think he was insane." "He is a cousin of mine,"

she said.

"Ah! doubtless he was surprised at seeing you in such company."

"Why?" she questioned.

"Perhaps he is afraid of losing caste," said Frank, anxious to know the cause of Tom's sullen countenance.

Adele laughed; "Losing caste!" she said, "the idea is preposterous."

"Miss Rougeant," said Frank, suddenly becoming grave, "do you want to oblige me?"

She looked up. "Of course I do," she replied.

"And will you answer my question?" he continued.

She looked down. "What can he mean?" she said inly. The twilight partly hid the deep blush that suffused her cheek.

He noticed her embarra.s.sment and hastily spoke: "I was going to say this. Some time ago, I heard that you were engaged to a young man named Tom Soher. Would you be kind enough to explain me the riddle.

But, you need not do so, if you do not feel inclined to."

Her manner suddenly changed. She had imagined that he had something of far greater importance to ask her. She replied: "I have never been engaged to him; you must have heard false news."

"Probably," he said, "it was Old Jacques who told me so."

"Ah, I see," said she, "he saw my cousin coming home to visit us rather often, and he invented that little piece of news. It was he--Tom Soher--whom we met just now, and who scrutinized us so."

Then Adele told him all about her father's intentions. She tried to look bright, but Frank saw what she endeavoured to conceal: a painful contraction of the forehead at times. When she had finished, she asked smilingly: "What do you think of my father's mode of procedure?"

Frank looked at her anxiously. "I hope it will never be," he said.

"Indeed!"

"Because," he continued, "I should be extremely grieved to see you forced into an union without love."

"How do you know that it would be such an one?" she asked.

"Because," responded he, "when you told me about your father's plans, I saw your face. If there is any truth in physiognomy, you recoil with horror at the prospect of one day marrying Tom Soher."

She changed the subject of the conversation and nothing more was said about it that evening.

Going home; Frank thought of the difficulties that were rising before him. He soliloquized: "It is always the same old story; a greedy, avaricious, grasping father, sacrificing his daughter's happiness for the sake of his pride. But it must not be. I can and will save her from such a terrible fate."

He was full of indignant wrath against her father. "To think that she shudders at the thought of it," he muttered.