Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society Read online

  CHAPTER X

  MISLED

  Arthur Weldon met Mershone at a club next afternoon. "You lowscoundrel!" he exclaimed. "It was _your_ trick to accuse Miss Merrick ofa theft last night."

  "Was she accused?" enquired the other, blandly. "I hadn't heard,really."

  "You did it yourself!"

  "Dear me!" said Mershone, deliberately lighting a cigarette.

  "You or your precious cousin--you're both alike," declared Arthur,bitterly. "But you have given us wisdom, Mershone. We'll see you don'ttrick us again."

  The young man stared at him, between puffs of smoke.

  "It occurs to me, Weldon, that you're becoming insolent. It won't do, myboy. Unless you guard your tongue--"

  "Bah! Resent it, if you dare; you coward."

  "Coward?"

  "Yes. A man who attacks an innocent girl is a coward. And you've been acoward all your life, Mershone, for one reason or another. No onebelieves in your pretended reform. But I want to warn you to keep awayfrom Miss Merrick, hereafter, or I'll take a hand in your punishmentmyself."

  For a moment the two eyed one another savagely. They were equallymatched in physique; but Arthur was right, there was no fight inMershone; that is, of the knock-down order. He would fight in his ownway, doubtless, and this made him more dangerous than his antagonistsupposed.

  "What right have you, sir, to speak for Miss Merrick?" he demanded.

  "The best right in the world," replied Arthur. "She is my promisedwife."

  "Indeed! Since when?"

  "That is none of your affair, Mershone. As a matter of fact, however,that little excitement you created last night resulted in a perfectunderstanding between us." "_I_ created!"

  "You, of course. Miss Merrick does not care to meet you again. You willdo well to avoid her in the future."

  "I don't believe you, Weldon. You're bluffing."

  "Am I? Then dare to annoy Miss Merrick again and I'll soon convince youof my sincerity."

  With this parting shot he walked away, leaving Mershone really at a lossto know whether he was in earnest or not. To solve the question hecalled a taxicab and in a few minutes gave his card to the Merrickbutler with a request to see Miss Louise.

  The man returned with a message that Miss Merrick was engaged.

  "Please tell her it is important," insisted Mershone.

  Again the butler departed, and soon returned.

  "Any message for Miss Merrick must be conveyed in writing, sir," hesaid, "She declines to see you."

  Mershone went away white with anger. We may credit him with lovingLouise as intensely as a man of his caliber can love anyone. His suddendismissal astounded him and made him frantic with disappointment.Louise's treatment of the past few days might have warned him, but hehad no intuition of the immediate catastrophe that had overtaken him. Itwasn't his self-pride that was injured; that had become so batteredthere was little of it left; but he had set his whole heart on winningthis girl and felt that he could not give her up.

  Anger toward Weldon was prominent amongst his emotion. He declaredbetween his set teeth that if Louise was lost to him she should nevermarry Weldon. Not on Diana's account, but for his own vengefulsatisfaction was this resolve made.

  He rode straight to his cousin and told her the news. The statement thatArthur was engaged to marry Louise Merrick drove her to a wild anger noless powerful because she restrained any appearance of it. Surveying hercousin steadily through her veiled lashes she asked:

  "Is there no way we can prevent this thing?"

  Mershone stalked up and down before her like a caged beast. His eyeswere red and wicked; his lips were pressed tightly together. "Diana,"said he, "I've never wanted anything in this world as I want that girl.I can't let that mollycoddle marry her!"

  She flushed, and then frowned. It was not pleasant to hear the man ofher choice spoken of with such contempt, but after all theirdisappointment and desires were alike mutual and she could not breakwith Charlie at this juncture.

  Suddenly he paused and asked:

  "Do you still own that country home near East Orange?"

  "Yes; but we never occupy it now. Father does not care for the place."

  "Is it deserted?"

  "Practically so. Madame Cerise is there in charge."

  "Old Cerise? I was going to ask you what had become of that cleverfemale."

  "She was too clever, Charlie. She knew too much of our affairs, and wasalways prying into things that did not concern her. So father took anantipathy to the poor creature, and because she has served our familyfor so long sent her to care for the house at East Orange."

  "Pensioned her, eh? Well, this is good news, Di; perhaps the best newsin the world. I believe it will help clear up the situation. Old Ceriseand I always understood each other."

  "Will you explain?" asked Diana, coldly.

  "I think not, my fair cousin. I prefer to keep my own counsel. You madea bad mess of that little deal last night, and are responsible for theclimax that faces us. Besides, a woman is never a good conspirator. Iknow what you want; and I know what I want. So I'll work this planalone, if you please. And I'll win, Di; I'll win as sure as fate--ifyou'll help me."

  "You ask me to help you and remain in the dark?"

  "Yes; it's better so. Write me a note to Cerise and tell her to placethe house and herself unreservedly at my disposal."

  She stared at him fixedly, and he returned the look with an evil smile.So they sat in silence a moment. Then slowly she arose and moved to herescritoire, drawing a sheet of paper toward her and beginning to write. "Is there a telephone at the place?" enquired Mershone abruptly.

  "Yes."

  "Then telephone Cerise after I'm gone. That will make it doubly sure.And give me the number, too, so I can jot it down. I may need it."

  Diana quietly tore up the note.

  "The telephone is better," she said. "Being in the dark, sir, I prefernot to commit myself in writing."

  "You're quite right, Di," he exclaimed, admiringly. "But for heaven'ssake don't forget to telephone Madame Cerise."

  "I won't Charlie. And, see here, keep your precious plans to yourself,now and always. I intend to know nothing of what you do."

  "I'm merely the cats-paw, eh? Well, never mind. Is old Cerise to bedepended upon, do you think?"

  "Why not?" replied the girl. "Cerise belongs to the Von Taers--body andsoul!"