CHAPTER IV.
“AND THOU WERT GAY, THOUGH I WAS NOT WITH THEE!”
Go—strive the sea wave to control;
Or, wouldst thou keep me thine,
Be thou all being to my soul,
And fill each want divine;
Play every string in Love’s sweet lyre,
Set all its music flowing;
Be air, and dew, and light, and fire,
To keep the soul-flower growing;
Be less—thou art no love of mine,
So leave my love in peace;
’Tis helpless woman’s right divine—
Her only right—caprice!
—Osgood.
Viola did not lose much sleep over Florian’s going that night, for a pleasant excitement had been mixed with her thoughts by Philip Desha’s unexpected call, and her engagement with him for tomorrow.
She thought, mischievously:
“He is putting himself in my power, and no man has resisted me yet when I chose to exercise it. What fun to lead him on a little just to pay him out for detesting flirts!”
When he called for her promptly at ten the next morning, she was quite ready to go, and he started with delight as she came down the steps, her beauty and her costume were alike so flawless, while her bright smile seemed to shed sunshine upon the cold, wintry day.
At the foot of the steps a beggar had paused with outstretched hand and a piteous whine—a poor woman with an emaciated, half-starved babe clutched to her breast.
Viola paused and gazed at the wretched mendicants, the miserable young mother with her pinched face and unkept garb, and the poor infant with its half-clothed body, and blue, half-frozen toes peeping through ragged hose.
Large pitying tears flashed into the girl’s beautiful eyes.
Philip Desha thought he had never seen such a contrast in human life as the wretched, starving beggars and the beautiful, happy heiress. He slipped his fingers into his vest pocket for money, but Viola was quicker than he, she had already drawn out her tiny, silk-netted purse and taken from it a shining gold coin, which she pressed into the baby’s skinny little claw, saying in a voice that trembled with sympathy:
“There now, tell mamma to buy it a cloak and a pair of shoes, and something to eat.”
Philip pressed his silver dollar into the woman’s eager hand, and she burst into tearful thanks and praises.
“No, no, don’t thank us; thank God for putting it into our hearts to help you,” Viola murmured, gently, as she turned away to the carriage.
Professor Desha helped her in, and closed the door. His heart thrilled with sudden admiration, not so much at the charity, for he knew she could afford it, but at the tender pity and sympathy that had gone with the gift.
To his noble heart Viola had looked more beautiful with those tender tears softening the brilliance of her eyes than when sparkling with diamonds in some gala scene she had moved the cynosure of admiring glances. He thought:
“She has a true womanly heart in spite of her coquetry.”
They drove to his cousin’s home, where they were joined directly by a gay party of a dozen or so accomplished skaters, eager for the sport. Directly they sought the beautiful Potomac, whose glassy surface glittered clear as crystal beneath the deep blue sky and fitful sunshine of a cold and perfect winter day.
Viola was an accomplished skater and dearly loved the exercise. She appeared more beautiful upon the ice than in a ball-room. Her perfect complexion glowed with enchanting color, and her luminous eyes caught a peculiar deep blue like the ocean’s waves, her soft, musical laugh disclosed little teeth like rows of pearls between perfect scarlet lips that it would have been Heaven to kiss.
Very naturally she and Desha paired off together, as he, too, was an excellent skater, and soon the bright surface of the river was the scene of exhilarating sport that drew hundreds of gazers to the banks to gaze at the merry crowd, while among them appeared reporters, with their pencils busy taking notes and sketches of the doings of gay society for their respective papers.
Viola was very happy, but now and then a regretful thought of Florian intruded on her gayety like a breath blown upon the clear surface of a sparkling mirror.
“Poor, dear Florian! I wish that he was here with me now. He would enjoy this so much. And how sad he must feel, going away today for such an uncertain absence when we were so happy in our love. Perhaps I ought not to be so gay while he is so sad. But then I dare not give way to moping, lest some one suspect our engagement,” she thought, self-excusingly, and turned a radiant face on her companion, answering a remark he was making about one of the young girls who was just learning to skate and had suffered several falls, to the amusement of her companions and her own chagrin.
“It is too bad, poor thing! And then her partner is not very skillful either. Now if she had you to teach her—” began Viola, delicately hinting for him to go and help the poor girl.
Desha was loth to leave his charming companion. Her subtle charm was beginning to enthrall him as it had done others. He regretted that he had drawn her attention to the other girl.
But she added, coaxingly:
“Do go and teach the poor thing how to keep on her feet. I feel so sorry for her forlorn plight. There now, she has tumbled down again!” laughing in spite of herself.
“Remember, I shall not stay away from you long,” he answered, as he tore himself away to do her bidding.
“Suppose you skate awhile with me, Miss Hyer,” he said, smilingly, to the young girl, who accepted with delight, for he and Viola had been the observed of all observers.
Viola, left to herself, began to do some very graceful figures on the ice that she had learned while wintering in Canada two years before.
Hundreds of admiring eyes watched her with wonder and delight. But glancing back to see how Desha was progressing with his pupil, she observed Miss Hyer’s former clumsy partner making the best speed he could in her direction.
“Oh, dear, that stupid! I’ll escape him if I have to skate across the river,” she pouted, in dismay, and struck out for the opposite shore.
Directly a cry of horror rose on the air as the gliding form rushed upon thin ice that cracked beneath its weight. There was an answering cry of deadly fear, a gleam of violet velvet and shining fur, and Viola’s form sank from view beneath the treacherous breaking ice into the deep, ingulfing waves.