University of Virginia Library

60. CHAPTER LX.
THE RECOGNITION.

It will be remembered that when Harley had ascended the
staircase to keep his appointment with Judge Bland, St. Leger had
gone in the direction of Mrs. Bland's chamber, which was on the
right of the hall, in rear of the dining-room.

This apartment, as we have said, was used by the friends of the
family as a sort of supplementary sitting-room. Whenever the
weather was at all chill, a cheerful fire might be found there,
blazing merrily in the large fireplace; the room, with its snowy
bed and drugget carpet, was a model of neatness; and the aged
Mrs. Bland might be seen seated in her great “invalid arm-chair”
knitting busily, smiling, and prepared to welcome all comers.

Into this apartment Fanny had been taken on her arrival, for
the very reason suggested by Harley—that the pain she suffered
from her broken arm rendered it desirable that she should not be
carried up-stairs, if possible. There was no obstacle whatever to
making a couch for the little sufferer in Mrs. Bland's room; one
was speedily arranged, therefore, near the fire, and Fanny had
been regularly installed.

St. Leger went and knocked at the door.

“Come in!” said the cheerful voice of the old lady, whereupon
St. Leger opened the door, advanced two steps into the apartment,
then, with a great start, he all at once stopped.

There before him, seated beside Fanny's little couch, and holding
the girl's hand, was the Lady of the Snow.

She was clad from head to foot in black; her face was pale and
subdued in expression; in her large eyes, looking out sadly from
her still beautiful face, could be read a strange pathos and tenderness.

St. Leger recognized at a single glance the person whom he and
Harley had encountered on the night of their return from Williamsburg,
as chief actress in the company of strolling-players,
whom he had seen a second time, haunting like a phantom the
grounds of Huntsdon, and gazing up at the light in Harley's
window.

“You!” he exclaimed.

She looked at him calmly, but her heart could be seen, and
almost heard, beating.

“Yes,” she murmured, letting her head sink.

“Is it possible!” stammered St. Leger, unable to regain all at
once his self-possession.

“I see you remember me!” came from the pale lips of the Lady
of the Snow, in a sort of whisper.

St. Leger stood looking at her in perfect silence for at least a
minute. He then seemed to become aware, for the first time, how
singular this sudden recognition must appear to the other occupants
of the chamber; and, recovering his self-possession by an
effort, he bowed and came in, closing the door.

All eyes had been fixed upon him, and from his face the curious
glances had passed to the face of the Lady of the Snow.

The persons who indicated in this silent but significant manner
their astonishment at the scene were Miss Clementina and Evelyn.
The former sat in one corner of the fireplace waving a large fan in
front of her face—her inveterate habit,—the other (Evelyn) was
leaning back in an arm-chair near her, with Mrs. Bland opposite,
in her great chair at the foot of the bed, beside which sat the pale
lady.

Evelyn was quite thin and white; she looked and listened with
vague excitement. Miss Clementina, on the contrary, was flushed
with sudden interest. Her quick wits, stimulated by suspicion, had
instantly caught the clue to this mysterious scene.

“You seem to know this lady,” said Clementina, very quietly,
addressing St. Leger.

“No, madam!” he replied, in a low tone, after hesitating for a
moment.

“She is not then—an old acquaintance, sir?”

There was an almost imperceptible accent of satire in Miss Clementina's
tones. St. Leger became suddenly aware of this lurking
sentiment, and felt that it was necessary for him to be on his
guard.

“No, madam, I have not even the pleasure of a slight acquaintance
with this lady,” he said, quietly.

He came and stood beside the bed.

“I hope you are better,” he said to Fanny, looking at her with
the deepest affection. “Does your arm hurt you?”

“Very little,” Fanny replied, smiling; “and everybody is so good
to me.”

She looked affectionately at Mrs. Bland, who from her deafness
had missed the whole of the scene just described, and then at the

lady holding her hand, and gazing at her with a slight color in her
cheeks.

St. Leger was still looking at Fanny with the ardent eyes of a
lover, when he heard the door behind him open and close. He
looked around. Miss Clementina and Evelyn had disappeared.

That disappearance evidently meant mischief. In fact, Miss
Clementina was wellnigh bursting with pent-up excitement. When
St. Leger went toward Fanny's bedside, Miss Clementina had
glanced at Evelyn, made a sign to her, risen, and they had left the
apartment together.

No sooner had Miss Clementina closed the door and found herself
and Evelyn alone together in the hall, than she seized the
young lady by the arm, put her lips to her ear, and said:

“I knew it!”

“Knew what?” murmured Evelyn, with white cheeks.

“I knew this was—the woman!”

She drew the young lady along, and they went into the drawing-room.
It was entirely unoccupied.

“You saw,” exclaimed Miss Clementina, “he recognized her!”

Evelyn had sunk into a seat; she made no reply.

“She is the woman! Remember what you told me of your interview
with Mr. St. Leger, and how he was unable to deny that he
and Mr. Harley had met a woman—an actress in a company of
strolling players—on his return from Williamsburg! Remember
how startled and confused Mr. St. Leger looked, you informed me!
Remember that this woman—this woman—was heard to exclaim
`Justin Harley! I thought he was dead. Now I will have my
rights!”'

“Oh, no! no! it cannot—cannot be!”

The words burst from the young lady in a sort of cry.

“Wait and see!” said Miss Clementina, with a cool, decisive
look; she had been steadied, as it were, by her excitement. “Wait
and see!” And meanwhile ask yourself who this mysterious
woman can be, if not that woman? Who is she? What is her
name? You can find out nothing. She rushes in her, dropping
down from the clouds, giving no name, not accounting for herself,
depending on our good breeding to be received without questions.
A friend of Fanny's!—that is all we are told! And now, Mr. St.
Leger comes, and recognizes her, and—”

Evelyn uttered a gasp, and flushed suddenly.

“Who—is she?” came from her trembling lips.

Miss Clementina bent over.

“Whom do people say she is?” she whispered.

Evelyn looked at her with startled eyes.

“People say she is Mrs. Justin Harley!”

As Miss Clementina uttered these words, sleigh bells were heard
coming up the hill, and in a few moments Sainty Harley appeared,
ushering in Miss Annie Bland, looking like a small rosebud, and
her friend, who burst into joyous exclamations all about their delightful
ride, after which they ran up-stairs to “take off their
things.” Sainty Harley, hearing from Miss Clementina that Judge
Bland had returned, followed them, going with a cowardly beating
of the heart to the old lawyer's study. As we have seen, Harley
thereupon rose, and, leaving them together, came down stairs.

The interval had left Miss Clementina and Evelyn but a few
moments for additional conversation.

“I hurried out with you,” said Miss Clementina, “to tell you this,
Evelyn, and to say that I am certain that this unknown woman
is—well, is the person Mr. St. Leger and Mr. Harley met—the one
who would `have her rights now,' as Mr. Harley was not dead! So
be on your guard!—take care!—all eyes will be fixed upon you!—
take care!

“It is unnecessary to warn me, aunt!” said Evelyn, as pale as
death again. `I trust I shall not disgrace myself.”

“Do not give people an opportunity of repeating what they have
already said—that you are fond of Mr. Harley, who returns your
feelings with one of regard simply, from indifference, or from
having one wife already!”

Evelyn moaned. It needed all her pride to remain calm under
this lash.

“Avoid all interviews with Mr. Harley! He is up-stairs now;
he was to come this evening to see your father on business, and I
heard him go up.”

“I shall certainly avoid him,” said Evelyn, in a low tone.

As she spoke, steps were heard descending the stairs.

“He is coming down!” exclaimed Miss Clementina, starting up.

Evelyn rose as suddenly. The thought of an interview with
Harley at the moment seemed to appall her.

“I will go to my room.”

“No, there is not time. You would meet him on the stairs.”

Evelyn ran to the folding-doors opening into the drawing-room
in rear of the front one. But this was only used on occasions of
ceremony, and the door was locked.

“Oh! what shall I do? I will not see him!” she cried.

The steps came steadily down the staircase.

“You must go into your grandmother's room! He will not come
into that room unless he is invited.

“Yes! yes!”

“Come, Evelyn! There is just time. Yes, I agree with you.
You must avoid all attempts at explanation on his part. Come!”

Seizing the young lady by the arm, Miss Clementina almost
dragged her into the hall, toward Mrs. Bland's chamber.

There was just time for them to pass unseen. Harley had reached
the second floor, and was at the head of the lower staircase. Fortunately
the abutment concealed the two ladies. They hastened
through the hall, reached the door of Mrs. Bland's chamber, and
entering, closed the door just as Harley came down.