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"I must see her at once. It is a question of life or death with me. Oh, sir, please do not refuse me. I must see her at once and all alone!" In the beautiful drawing-room at Whitestone Hall sat Pluma Hurlhurst, running her white, jeweled fingers lightly over the keyboard of a grand piano, but the music evidently failed to charm her.
Like one in a dream, Daisy heard the detective go carefully over the ground with Basil Hurlhurst all the incidents connected with the loss of his child. Daisy listened out of sheer wonder. She could not tell why. "I think we have the right clew," continued the detective, "but we have no actual proof to support our supposition; there is one part still cloudy."
"Miss Hurlhurst," cried Rex, in a voice husky with emotion, "I hold myself responsible for this young lady's presence here. "Ah!" interrupts Pluma, ironically; "and may I ask by what right you force one so inferior, and certainly obnoxious, among us?" Rex Lyon's handsome face was white with rage.
Hurlhurst cry so; and what do you think he said?" The child did not notice the terrible agony on the old housekeeper's face, or that no answer was vouchsafed her. "'My dreams haunt me night and day, he cried.
Rex," she said, drawing him down on the sofa beside her, and holding his strong white hands tightly clasped in her own, "I do not want to tease you or bring up an unpleasant subject, but I had so hoped, my boy, you would not come alone. I have hoped and prayed, morning and night, you would bring home a bride, and that bride would be Pluma Hurlhurst." Rex staggered from her arms with a groan.
"I must go and find Rex or Mr. Hurlhurst," she cried, grasping her crutch, and limping hurriedly out of the room. The door leading to Basil Hurlhurst's apartments stood open the master of Whitestone Hall sat in his easy-chair, in morning-gown and slippers, deeply immersed in the columns of his account-books. "Oh, Mr.
I questioned you as to why the house was lighted, and learned the truth. Basil Hurlhurst had remarried; he had been abroad with his wife, and to-night he was bringing home his young wife. "My rage knew no bounds. I commanded you to bring me the key of the gate. You obeyed.
After sealing and directing her precious letter, and placing it in the letter-bag which hung at the lower end of the corridor, Daisy hurried back to her own apartment and crept softly into her little white bed, beside Sara, and was soon fast asleep, dreaming of Rex and a dark, haughty, scornful face falling between them and the sunshine the cold, mocking face of Pluma Hurlhurst. Mme.
Basil Hurlhurst was struck with the terrible grandeur of the picture she made, standing there in her magnificent, scornful pride a wealth of jewels flashing on her throat and breast and twined in the long, sweeping hair that had become loosened and swept in a dark, shining mass to her slender waist, her flashing eyes far outshining the jewels upon which the softened gas-light streamed.
One short year after she married Evalia Hurlhurst died." The lady never forgot the strange glance that passed over the girl's face, or the wonderful light that seemed to break over it. "Why," exclaimed the lady, as if a sudden thought occurred to her, "when you bought your ticket I heard you mention Allendale. That was the home of the Hurlhursts. Is it possible you know them? Mr.
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