The step on the stair

by Anna Katharine Green

“And don’t forget that I am to see Orpha half an hour before supper.” In another moment he was on his feet. “How? What?” he cried, his face, his voice, his whole appearance changed.

And I knew why. Edgar was in the hall; Edgar was coming our way and in haste; he was almost running.

“Uncle!” was on his lips; and in another instant he was in the room. “I heard you were ill,” he cried, passing by me without ceremony and flinging himself on his knees at the sick man’s side.

I did not stay to mark the other’s reception of this outburst. There could be but one. Loving Edgar as he did in spite of any displeasure he may have felt he could not but yield to the charm of his voice and manner never perhaps more fully exercised than now. I was myself affected by it and from that moment understood why he had got such a hold on that great heart and why any dereliction of his or fancied slight should have produced such an overwhelming effect. To-morrow would see him the favored heir again; and with this belief and in this mood I went below.

VIII

I have thought many times since that I was fortunate rather than otherwise to have received this decided set-back to my hopes before I came into the presence of my lovely young cousin. It at least served to steady me and give to our first meeting a wholesome restraint which it might have lacked if no shadowing doubt had fallen upon my spirits. As it was, there was a moment of self-consciousness, as our hands touched, which made the instant a thrilling one. That she should show surprise at identifying me, her cousin from a far-off land, with a stranger who half an hour before had held her gaze from the gallery above, was to be expected. But any hope that her falling lids and tremulous smile meant more than this was a folly of which I hope I was not guilty. Had I not just seen Edgar under circumstances which showed the power he possessed over the hearts of men? What then must it be over the hearts of women! Orpha could not help but love him and I had been a madman to suppose that even with the encouragement of her father I could dream for a moment of supplanting him in her affections. To emphasize the effect of this conclusion I recalled what I had heard said by one of the two servant-maids who had had countless opportunities of seeing him and Orpha together, “Oh, nobody could put our Mr. Edgar out” and calmed myself into a decent composure of mind and manner, for which she seemed grateful. Why, I did not dare ask myself.

A few minutes later we were whirling in the dance.

I will not dwell on that dance or on the many introductions which followed. The welcome accorded me was a cordial one and had I been free to make full use of my opportunities I might have made a more lasting impression upon my uncle’s friends. But my mind was diverted by my anxiety as to what was going on in the room above, and the question of how soon, if at all, Edgar would reappear upon the scene. It was sufficiently evident from the expression of those about me that his absence had been noted, and I could not keep my eyes from the gallery through which he must pass on his way down.

At last he came into view, but too far back in the gallery for me to determine whether he came as conqueror or conquered from our uncle’s room. Nor was I given a chance to form any immediate conclusion on this important matter, though I passed him more than once in the dance into which he had thrown himself with a fervor which might have most any sentiment for its basis.

But fortune favored me later and in a way I was far from expecting. Having some difficulty in finding my partner for the coming dance, I strolled into one of the smaller rooms leading, as I knew, to a certain favorite nook in the conservatory. On the wall at my left was a mirror and chancing to glance that way, I paused and went no further.