The Silver Butterfly Page 15

  CHAPTER XV

  During the ten days allowed her for preparation Kitty continued charmedwith Hayden's idea of a butterfly dinner. It suited her volatile fancy.Her enthusiasm remained at high pitch, and she exerted herself to theutmost in behalf of her favorite cousin. As a consequence, although shemade a pretense of consulting Hayden about the various arrangements, thefinal results were almost as much of a surprise to him as to the rest ofthe guests, and as he walked through his rooms at the last moment headmitted to himself that Kitty really had surpassed herself.

  Yellow and violet orchids fluttered everywhere, carrying out thebutterfly effect; and while he stood admiring their airy andunsubstantial grace, Kitty floated in followed by Hampton, thin andkindly, with more of an expression of interest than he usually wore.

  "Why, Kitty," cried Hayden, shaking hands with Hampton, "you look exactlylike a butterfly, a lovely little blue butterfly attracted here by theflowers."

  "But that is what I am," Kitty answered him triumphantly. "A bluebutterfly. Don't you see my long wing-sleeves? And look at the bluebutterflies in my hair! Oh," as Mrs. Habersham came in, "here is Bea.Isn't she gorgeous?"

  Bea herself was the affirmative answer to that question. She was indeedgorgeous, a splendid brown butterfly with all kinds of iridescent effectsgleaming through her gauzes. Dark velvet outlined her skirt and floatingsleeves, and dark antennae stood upright from the coils of her hair.

  Marcia, who was with her, to Hayden's infinite relief, was a whitebutterfly, looking very lovely, but, as he noticed with concern, palerthan he had ever seen her, and with something like distress in her eyes,quite perceptible to him if unnoticed by the rest. He could not keep hissolicitude out of his voice and glance, and this, he felt instinctively,annoyed, instead of gratifying her; for almost immediately she assumed agaiety of manner foreign to her usual gentle and rather cool reserve.

  His attention was distracted for the moment by the arrival of EdithSymmes, and the little group paid her the momentary attention of an awedsilence, for she had perpetrated what was, perhaps, the greatest atrocityof her life--a vivid scarlet gown which made her face look a livid wedge.

  "Don't you like this frock?" she whispered complacently to Bea Habersham.

  "No, you know it is a horror, Edith," that lady replied, with thebluntness of intimacy. "I think," turning and surveying her friend calmlyfrom head to foot, "that it is the very worst I have ever seen you wear,and that is saying a great deal. It makes you look like green cheese. ForHeaven's sake, put some other color on!"

  "Not I." Edith was quite unruffled. "You know perfectly well, Bea, thatif I wore what you and Kitty and the rest of the world would call decentclothes, that every one would say: 'How plain poor Edith Symmes is! Shedresses well, but that can not make up for her lack of beauty,' But whenI wear these perfectly dreadful, glaring things that I love, what is saidof me? 'What a stylish, even a pretty woman, Edith Symmes might be, ifshe didn't wear such criminal clothes,' Don't you see, you handsomeidiot, that I please myself and score at the same time?"

  Not being able to refute these plausible arguments, Bea contented herselfwith stubbornly maintaining her point. "But red, Edith, why red? It is anightmare. Who ever heard of a scarlet butterfly?"

  Edith laughed lightly. "I invented one just for this occasion. Such acompliment to Mr. Hayden." Her serenity was not to be marred, andfortunately, before the discussion could go further, dinner wasannounced.

  The dining-room Kitty had transformed into a tropical bower. From anirregular lattice of boughs across the ceiling orchids fell as if theyhad grown and bloomed there. These were interspersed with long trails ofSpanish moss in which the lights were cunningly disposed. Orchids swayed,too, from the tops of the tall palms which lined the walls, and above thebright mass of the same flowers on the table floated on invisible wiresthe most vivid and beautiful tropical butterflies.

  Hayden was an admirable host. Possessing the faculty of enjoymenthimself, he succeeded in communicating it to his guests; and the dinner,as it progressed, was an undeniable success. Marcia, on his right hand,had apparently thrown off the oppression or worry from which she hadsuffered earlier in the evening, and, according to Mrs. Habersham allthrough the afternoon; and her evident enjoyment was immensely reassuringto Hayden, for it seemed to him both natural and spontaneous.

  "Bobby," said Kitty, a few moments before they left the table, "I'mreally afraid after this that the rest of the evening will be a dreadfullet-down. I think if we showed the part of wisdom we'd all fly home assoon as we get up and keep intact a bright memory."

  "Ah," said Hayden mysteriously, "you don't know what you would miss. Thebest of the evening is yet to come. I've got a whole bagful of tricks upmy sleeve."

  "I'm sure it's going to be a magic-lantern, or perhaps stereopticon viewsillustrating his thrilling adventures in darkest Africa, or New York,with himself well toward the center of the picture," laughed EdithSymmes.

  "I wish it were," said Penfield. "By the way, Hayden, you're amongfriends. We'll all promise to keep your guilty secrets; but do be frankand open if you can, and tell us the romantic story of your discovery inSouth America, and how you happened to find something a lot of people hadbeen searching for in vain."

  Hayden looked at Horace in surprise. That he should have ventured on thissubject was odd, and Robert was for the moment inclined to resent it. Forthe fraction of a second he hesitated; and then caught at the suggestion.He had been wondering how he should tell Marcia that he was thediscoverer of the lost and traditional mine on the estate, of which, hecontinued to believe intuitively and unreasonably, without a scintilla ofreal evidence, she was one of the owners. Yes, he had been wondering howhe should tell her and here was the opportunity.

  "Very well, I will," he said quickly. "It isn't stereopticon views, or amagic-lantern, Mrs. Symmes. It's worse. It's photographs, and I'm verywell toward the center of the picture. With the best will in the world,now that I've got you all here, I shan't let you escape. You must listento the story of my life."

  He had sent for Tatsu, and, at the appearance of the Japanese servant,Robert whispered a word or two to him and he left the room. Just as hedid so Hayden felt a slight pressure on his arm. Turning, he met Marcia'seyes. Her gaze was fastened on him with a frightened, almost imploringexpression and he saw that she had again grown very pale.

  "What is it?" he said to her in a low voice. "You are not well, or youare unhappy about something. Do not feel it necessary to remain here ifyou would rather go home."

  "Oh, no, no!" she protested vehemently. "I am quite well, and I wouldrather stay, only, I implore you, I beg of you, not to show any maps orphotographs of that mine. I beg it!" Her voice, her eyes besought him.

  Tatsu returned at this moment with a package which he handed to Hayden,and the latter, taking it from him, looked carefully over its contents,allowing an expression of disappointment to over-cloud his face.

  "The wrong bundle," he said mendaciously. "Too bad! And I might have tosearch an hour before laying my hands on the right one. I evidentlywasn't intended to bore you with any of my ancient mariner tales thisevening. This is distinctly an omen." He lifted his brows slightly andsignificantly to Kitty, and she who was playing hostess, immediatelyrose.

  Hayden carried the package into the drawing-room with him and laid it ona small table. He felt puzzled and perplexed. What did Marcia know, andwhat was worse, what did she fear? For there could be no doubt that shewas badly frightened. How flat had fallen his happy plan of letting herknow that he, by some joyous and romantic chance, was the discoverer ofthe long-lost Veiled Mariposa! But the party was far too small for anyone member of it to engage in meditation, and Hayden as host found hisattention claimed every moment. For a calm review of this odd occurrenceand any attempt to arrive at a satisfactory explanation of Marcia's wordsand actions he saw clearly he would have to wait until the departure ofhis guests.

  It was a real relief, a positive relaxation from strain, therefore, whenTatsu threw
open the door and unctuously announced Mademoiselle Mariposa.There was the slightest rustle of skirts, the faint waft of an enchantingfragrance, and Ydo came forward. As usual, her little mask concealed herface, revealing only her sparkling eyes, and her mantilla of Spanish lacecovered her hair! but she had discarded her customary black gown. She,too, was a butterfly, this evening, a glowing yellow one with deep linesof black and touches of orange and scarlet, a gown as vivid and daring asherself. As she advanced with her exquisite and undulating grace ofcarriage, a little thrill ran through the group, for although they hadmoved in an atmosphere of color all evening, she seemed in some subtleand individual way to express deeper and more vital tints, and veiled, asshe was, to cause even the lights to flicker and grow dim.

  Behind her followed her private secretary, more demure and colorless thanever, bearing the various objects Mademoiselle Mariposa would need in theexercise of her profession.

  All of the women, in fact the whole party, greeted her with warmexpressions of pleasure with the exception of Marcia who, Hayden thought,looked more distressed, even more alarmed than ever.

  Ydo returned their pleasant speech with her accustomed ease, and thenturning to Hayden, as if consulting him about the arrangements for herfortune-telling, said in a low tone:

  "The man you wish to see has returned and I have arranged a meeting in mylibrary to-morrow afternoon between you and the owners of the property.You will be there, of course."

  "Naturally." He smiled. Ah, the thing was really to be settled at last.He drew a long sigh of relief as the burden of this waiting and suspensefell from his shoulders. Hayden's experience since the discovery of TheVeiled Mariposa had convinced him that anything, anything was better thanuncertainty.

  Meantime, Ydo, her Spanish accent more marked than usual, if anything,had asked: "Which is it first? The palms, or the crystal, or what,senor?" addressing Hayden.

  "Do not leave it to me," he answered. "Ask the ladies."

  The Mariposa turned inquiringly to the group of butterflies.

  "Oh, the crystal," said Bea Habersham. "I'm sure mademoiselle couldn'tfind a new line on any of our hands."

  "The crystal, Eunice."

  Ydo spoke to the secretary over her shoulder, and that young womansilently and very deftly set to work. She cleared a small table, placedit in front of the Mariposa, and deposited upon it the cushion and thecrystal, and finally, she threw some powder into a quaint bronzeincense-brazier, and then seated herself at the piano.

  "I will ask the rest of you to remain absolutely quiet," said Ydo. "Now,Eunice, begin."

  Eunice obediently struck a few strange chords, and then fell into amonotonous melody with a recurring refrain repeated again and again. Theblue smoke from the incense-brazier curled lazily upward in long spiralsand floated through the room, filling it with a pungent and heavysweetness; the monotonous music went on, the strange rhythm recurring inan ever stronger beat. The Mariposa who had sat motionless gazing at thecrystal began to speak.

  "Ah, the vision is not clear to-night. I see nothing but clouds. Yourfigures appear for a moment and then disappear. Ah, here is Mr. Haydenstanding on a mountain top with his hands full of gold."

  There was an explosion of laughter at this, and the Mariposa paused as ifinnocently surprised. "Clouds!" she gazed into the crystal again. "Ah,here is Mrs. Symmes. I see you in an immense studio, painting, paintingall the time, canvas after canvas. You will in the future devote yourlife to art, madame. You will give up the world for it."

  She paused and Edith, casting a triumphant glance at Mrs. Habersham,admitted that she had been cherishing just such an ambition, looking onlythe more pleased at the unrestrained horror and surprise manifested byher friends.

  "Miss Oldham, I see Miss Oldham, now," continued Ydo. "She weeps. She isnot happy. Idle tears."

  Hayden did not hear the rest, he looked about for Marcia, but she hadvanished, slipped from the room. Strange, he had not seen her go, butthen she had that peculiarly noiseless way of moving. While he ponderedover it she slipped in again without sound, the faintest of rustles,nothing to attract the attention of the others. She was still as white asa snowdrop, but he thought her expression far calmer and less agitated.

  But before any one else had time to notice her reappearance, attentionwas concentrated on Wilfred Ames. He had scarcely spoken during dinner,and since they had returned to the drawing-room, he had kept in thebackground, giving every one rather plainly to understand that he did notcare for conversation. Now, he came forward, his face, which had been setand grim and moody all evening, was white and his eyes were burning.Never for one moment, did those eyes waver from the Mariposa. He seemedEntirely oblivious to the rest of the group, and it was obvious that forhim they simply did not exist.

  "What do you see here for me?" he tapped the crystal with his forefinger.His voice was low and yet so vibrating with strong and uncontrolledemotion, that it reached the ears of all.

  There was storm in the air, the whole atmosphere of the room seemedsuddenly charged as if with electricity, and there was no one present whodid not feel through all the color and gaiety, the pulse and stir ofpotent and irresistible forces.

  But the Mariposa, after her first involuntary start of surprise andapprehension, had recovered her poise and now strove to control thesituation. "One moment, give me but a second to gaze deeply into thecrystal and I will tell you, that is if the pictures will formthemselves."

  "Oh, I beg you to drop that nonsense," Wilfred's voice rang wearily."It's only a pose. You believe in it no more than any one else. Aren'tyou tired of that sort of game? Of playing with us all as if we were somany children? Well, if you're not, I am. I tell you, Ydo, I've hadenough of it. You threw me over yesterday, for no reason under the sun.Just caprice, whim--you can't whistle me back and throw me overto-morrow. This question's going to be decided here and now for ever.Will you marry me or not?"

  "Senor!" Ydo's voice was low, surprised, remonstrating, indignant. "Youforget yourself. This is no place to make a scene or to spread before theworld our private affairs. I must beg you--"

  Wilfred waved his hands impatiently, as if brushing away her objections."My answer, Ydo. Here and now."

  She seemed completely nonplussed, and Hayden divined that this proud andresourceful Ydo felt herself overmatched and outwitted for the firsttime. She stood perfectly still, but gazing through her mask at Ames."I--I think that you will get your heart's desire, senor," she murmuredat last, her voice broken, inaudible.

  Ames stepped forward, still oblivious to the fact that there were otherpeople present. His face had grown still whiter but upon it there wasalready an irradiation of joy. "Do you mean it?" he said in a low voicevibrating with some strong feeling. "Do you mean it?"

  The little group looked at him in amazement. Was this eager man with theburning, intense eyes, the unruffled and imperturbable Wilfred, to whoseplacid silence they were so accustomed?

  "Why, Wilfred!" exclaimed Edith Symmes. "What on earth has come overyou?"

  But Ames paid not the least attention to her. It was as if he had notheard her voice. "Is it true?" he said again, his eyes fixed unwaveringlyon the black mask of the Mariposa.

  "Yes, senor," she almost whispered. "Yes, it is true. But in the future,mind you. I see only the future."

  "Then tell your maid to throw all this stuff out of the window," Wilfredagain rapped the crystal. "You've done with it for ever."

  The spell was broken. Hayden and his temporarily stupefied guests rousedthemselves, and crowded about Ydo and Wilfred in a chorus of questionsand congratulations; but every one felt that the moment for departure hadcome, and in the babble of adieus Hayden made an effort to get a moment'sspeech with Marcia alone, but in some feminine and elusive way shedivined his intention and frustrated it, and in spite of thecongratulations of his guests he was left standing upon his lonely hearthwith a desolate feeling of failure.

  He could hardly say what was the matter. Everything had gone without ahitch; that is, un
til staid old Ames had so hopelessly forgotten himself.The dinner was perfect, the decorations were beautiful, the small groupof congenial people had seemed to enjoy themselves immensely, and best ofall, Ydo had brought him the wonderful news that his period of suspenseand waiting was practically over. By this time to-morrow night he wouldknow where he stood; and yet, reason about it as he would, the sense ofelation and buoyant hope was gone, and in its stead was some dull,unhappy sense of foreboding, a premonition of impending disaster.

  For him, at least, there had been some ghastly blight over the wholeaffair. Why, why had Marcia appeared pale and distressed? And what wasfar more puzzling, why had she begged him not to show the photographs ofthe mine upon Penfield's request? Was it that she did not wish one of hisguests to know too much about the matter? If so, which one? And how didshe know anything about his connection with the mine, anyway?

  He tossed and turned for hours trying to arrive at some half-wayplausible or satisfactory solution; but none occurred to him, and hefinally fell into troubled sleep.