University of Virginia Library

3. III.

The loud, crashing music of the orchestra, pealed through the gorgeous
halls of the St. Louis, and sounds of mirth and festivity reached
their ears as they alighted at the thronged door. As they reached the
hall the floor was already occupied by the dancers, and the noise, and
glare of chandeliers and the motion of the restless crowd was bewidering.

`Come this way, Alice,' said her father, `I wish to introduce you to
the Count Bondier, who has expressed a desire to become acquainted
with you. He is of a distinguished French family, and I wish you to
be civil to him. Perhaps I may as well tell you that I wish him to make
your alliance, and that for so good a match your Boston lover, had best
be no more thought of.' This was whispered in her ear as they crossed
the hall to an alcove where Colonel May had discovered the foreigner.

If Alice had not been a girl of a strong mind and independent native
character, she would have sunk through the floor at this announcement.
As it was she trembled like an aspen leaf, and internally resolved to hate
him. He was presented to her and coldly yet politely received. He
was a good looking Frenchman about thirty with an air of high fashion.
He was at once struck with the charms of which he had heard so much;
and Colonel May taking an opportunity to desert his daughter, left her
dependent on the Count for a protector in the throng. He offered his
arm, which she knew not how to decline in her unprotected state, and
accepted. He found her disinclined to converse, and proof against his
compliments. After trying his best for half an hour to entertain her
and get into her good graces—for the Count's estates were under mortgage,
and the young Louisiana bell was an heiress—he began to despair.
At length her father reappeared, and she flew to his arm in a
way that convinced him of the difficulty of getting a titled son-in-law.
In her presence he invited the Count to dine with them the next day;
an invitation which he accepted, it seemed to her, with great pleasure.

The event so embittered the hours of the assembly that Alice at
length prevailed on her father, on the plea of ill-health, to retire with
her. The ensuing day the Count came, and Colonel May studied to
leave him alone with her. But coldness and distance alone characterised
her manner in his presence.

Day after day he was a visiter to Lauvidais, and daily pressing his
suit by every attention and every gentle device in love's armory. But
in vain. At length he made a bold strike and addressed her. She refused
him civilly but firmly. This enraged her father, who threatened,
unless she gave her consent to marry him within three months he would
deprive her of her inheritance, and shut her up in a convent.

`Give me half that time to decide!' said she with firmness.

`I grant it, Alice! and expect at the end of the period that you will
be prepared to comply with my wishes, and those of M. Bondier, who
is devoted to you! Your alliance with him will place you in the best
society in Paris.'

On her father's departure, Alice fastened her chamber door, and setting
down wrote the following letter:

This letter was received by Edward Orr, in less than two weeks after
it was penned, and its perusal gave him intense agony. He made instant
preparations to proceed south to rescue her from her fate; but
before his departure he received another letter—it was but a single line.

Edward gazed at the words with a glazed eye! What fearful mystery
was this! What has happened? I will know the worst. Lost to
me forever! No! she cannot be false! I will fly to her—for assuredly
some dreadful evil hath befallen her! How wild and large the
writing! so unlike her usual hand—yet it is her's! Alice, I heed not
your command! I fly to you!'

With this determination, the almost frenzied lover sprang into the
carriage and drove to the depot, his mind tortured with the mystery,
his heart bleeding with the agony of suspense.