“And,” the young special pleader rose as he said, under his voice, “I met you there—at the depot! My heart and soul craved another sight of you. And that I might meet you again, I did not undeceive him.
“You know the rest. I have been true to you, and I have given up my last hope of fortune in refusing to be his tool.”
He could see her splendid eyes shining upon him through her happy tears.
“Let us go in, Harold,” she softly said. “I must think! I must think! But promise me that you will not go away from New York till I bid you. Trust to me.”
“I promise,” he gravely said, as he lifted her trembling hand and kissed it, and then, arm in arm, they wandered back to her splendid pleasaunce palace. It was the “betrayal with a kiss.”
After the dinner, to which a few of the nearest county magnates had been previously bidden, Vreeland watched Elaine’s imperial bearing as she proudly queened it in the drawing room.
A richer rose burned upon her cheek. Her eyes were lit up with a strange fire, and her magnificent voice echoed in every heart with a thrill of a quivering life, as her defiant soul rose to the prelude of that coming war with the jealous girl who had determined to shine down the Lady of Lakemere.
The last carriage load of guests had rattled away, and Mme. Lafarge, wearied “dame de compagnie,” was nodding, with her eyes hopefully fixed upon the old colonial hall clock, when Elaine said, softly: “One last word with you in the library.”
The Queen of the Street stood there with downcast eyes before the great carved mantle, as she slowly said: “They will arrive in three or four days. You must confirm your answer to him.
“He has told me that you know stocks, and are familiar with all board matters.”