THE MASK THROWN OFF.
As a consequence of this, two days afterward Mary Grey received a tender, affectionate, sympathetic letter from Emma Cavendish pressing her to come down to Blue Cliffs at once and let them love her and nurse her back to health and happiness. And this letter inclosed a check for double the amount of the usual quarterly stipend.
Miss Cavendish, for some coy reason or other, did not allude to her approaching marriage. Perhaps she deferred the communication purposely, with the friendly hope that Mary Grey would visit her at Blue Cliffs, where she could make it to her in person.
Mrs. Grey, who did not dare to let her true handwriting go to Blue Cliffs, lest it should be seen and recognized by Mrs. Fanning, and who could not disguise it safely either, without some fair excuse to Emma Cavendish for doing so, put on a tight glove, and took a hard stiff pen and wrote a short note, full of gratitude and affection for Emma and all the family, and of complaints about her wretched crippled finger, that made it so painful for her to write, and prevented her from doing so as often as she wished; and of her still more wretched health, that hindered her from accepting her dear friend's kind invitation.
In reply to this letter, she got another, and a still kinder one, in which Miss Cavendish spoke of her own speedily approaching marriage, and pressed Mrs. Grey to come and be present on the occasion, adding:
"My dearest, you must make an effort and come. Alden himself will escort you on the journey, and take such good care of you that you shall suffer no inconvenience from the journey. You must come, for my happiness will not be complete without the presence of my dear father's dearest friend—of her who was to have been his bride."
This loving and confiding letter was never answered or even acknowledged by Mrs. Grey. It was entirely ignored, its contents were never mentioned to any one, and itself was torn to fragments and burned to ashes.
Two more letters of precisely the same character were written to her by Miss Cavendish; but they suffered the same fate at the hands of Mrs. Grey.
She had a deep motive in ignoring and destroying those letters. She did not wish the world ever by any accident to find out that she had been informed of the approaching marriage of Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish before it had taken place, or in time to prevent it.
Two weeks passed, and then she received a visit from Mr. Alden Lytton.
She received him alone in the front drawing-room.
He apologized for calling on her after she had forbidden him to do so, but said that he came on the part of Miss Cavendish to ask if she had received certain letters from Blue Cliff Hall, and to renew, in Emma's name, her pressing invitation to Mrs. Grey to come and be present at the approaching wedding.
"Emma wishes me to take charge of you on the journey. And I assure you, if you will intrust yourself to me, I will take such tender care of you that you shall know neither fatigue nor inconvenience of any sort," he added, earnestly.
"I can not go," she answered, coldly.
"Ah, do, for your friend's sake, change your mind," pleaded Alden.
"I can not," she answered.
"But Emma will be so disappointed!"
"I can not help it if she should be. I can not be present at the wedding," she repeated, faintly.
"But why not? Why can you not go?" persisted Alden.
"Man—man," she burst forth, suddenly, as her whole face changed fearfully, "how can you ask me such a question? Do you forget that we were to have been married once?—that we loved each other once? But you threw me over. Now you invite me to your wedding with my rival! And you ask me why I can not go! Do you take me for a woman of wood or stone or iron? You will find me a woman of fire! I told you not to come here—to keep away from me! If you had had sense to perceive—if you had had even eyes in your head to see with, you would have obeyed me and avoided me! I told you not to come here. I tell you now to go away. I will not be present at your wedding. Make what explanation or excuse to Miss Cavendish you please. Tell her, if you like, that the heart you have given her was first offered to me—that the vows you have made to her were first breathed at my feet! Tell her," she added, with keen contempt, "that you are but a poor, second-handed article, after all! Now go, I say! Why do you stand gazing upon me? Go, and never come near me, if you can help it, again! For I fancy that you will not feel very glad to see me when next we meet!" she hissed, with a hidden meaning, between her clinched teeth.
Alden Lytton was so unutterably amazed by this sudden outbreak that he had no power of replying by word or gesture. Without resenting her fierce accusation, or even noticing her covert threat, he stood staring at her for a moment in speechless amazement.
"Are you going?" she fiercely demanded.
"I am going," he said, recovering his self-possession. "I am going. But, Mrs. Grey, I am more surprised and grieved than I have words to express. I shall never, willingly, voluntarily approach you again. If, however, you should ever need a friend, do not hesitate to call on me as freely as you would upon a brother, and I shall serve you in any way in my power as willingly as if you were my own sister."
"Ur-ur-ur-r-r!" she broke forth, in an inarticulate growl of disgust and abhorrence.
"Good-bye!" he said, very gently, as he bowed and left the room.
Nothing but sympathy and compassion for this "poor woman," as he called her, filled his heart.
Her outbreak of hysterical passion had been a revelation to him; but it had shown him only half the truth. In its light he saw that she loved him still, but he did not see that she hated her rival. He saw that she was jealous, but did not see that she was revengeful.
He reproached himself bitterly, bitterly, for ever having fallen under her spell, for ever having loved her, or sought to win her love, and for thus being the remote cause of her present sorrows.
He had never confided to Emma Cavendish the story of his first foolish, boyish love, and sufferings and cure. For Mary Grey's sake he had kept that secret from his betrothed, from whom he had no other secret in the world.
But now he felt that he must tell Emma the truth, gently and lovingly, lest Mary Grey should do it rudely and angrily.
For Mary Grey's sake he had hitherto been silent. For his own and Emma Cavendish's sake he must now speak.
He went straight to the telegraph office and dispatched a message to Miss Cavendish, saying that he should be down to Wendover by the next train to pay her a flying visit.
Then he hurried to his office, put his papers in order, left some directions with his clerk, and hastened off to the railway station, where he caught the train just as it started, and jumped aboard the cars while they were in motion.