Little Golden's Daughter; or, The Dream of a Life Time

Mr. Desmond looked in amazement at the blushing, shrinking girl, and murmured inaudibly:

"Ye gods, what a perfect beauty!"

At that moment the brilliant brunette, Mrs. Desmond, swept into the room with a waft of exquisite perfume, her diamonds glittering, her rich silk and laces rustling majestically, a white satin opera cloak folded gracefully around her white shoulders.

She looked at Golden so wrathfully that it froze the quick murmur of irrepressible admiration on her lips.

"Girl, what does this disordered appearance mean? Why is your hair down after my strict orders?" she demanded, angrily.

"Your daughter pulled it down, madam," Golden answered, with outward dignity and quietness, though she was inwardly chafed and deeply wounded.

Mrs. Desmond turned round in a gust of passion and gave Ruby a ringing slap on the cheek with her white, jeweled hand.

"Take that, and behave yourself better the next time," she cried, sharply.

Ruby ran, screaming, to her father, and Mrs. Desmond cried out impatiently:

"Come, Mr. Desmond, the carriage is waiting. Mary, put the child to bed. Good-night, Ruby."

She bent to kiss the child good-night, but Ruby pushed her away with an angry scream, and ran to hide her face in Golden's skirts.

Mrs. Desmond turned away, followed by her husband, who said reproachfully as they passed from the room:

"You were needlessly cruel to the poor little thing Edith, my dear."

CHAPTER XX

Mrs. Desmond came into the nursery the next morning with her arms full of new toys as a propitiatory gift to her offended little daughter.

She greeted Golden very kindly, feeling ashamed of her petulance of the evening before, when she saw how patiently she was ministering to the comfort of her little daughter.

Little Ruby was suffering with a headache this morning. She lay on a silken lounge, with her head propped on pillows, and Golden was bathing the hot temples with eau de cologne.

"Are you still pleased with your nurse, my darling?" inquired her mother.

"Oh, yes, mamma. Mary is the kindest nurse I ever had," answered Ruby, lifting her heavy eyes tenderly to Golden's sweet face.

"I am very glad to hear it," said her mother. "Does your head ache too bad for you to take your morning drive with me, dear?"

"Oh, no, I think it will be better when I get out in the air," said Ruby, with a brightening face. "Shall we take my nurse with us?"

"Not this morning, I think, as I shall drive the pony-phaeton, and there is only room for two."

"Will not papa go then?" said the child, disappointed.

"No; he has a business engagement, and cannot accompany us. You see we are going to the seaside next week, and he has a great many things to see to first," Mrs. Desmond answered, with the child's disappointment reflected on her own beautiful face.

She loved her husband with the devotion of a strong, intense nature, and begrudged every moment he spent away from her side.

Her jealousy was as strong as her love, and Mr. Desmond was the type of man best calculated to keep this baleful passion in the fullest play.

He had been noted as a male flirt before he married Edith Chesleigh, and his conduct since their union had not been of a sort to strengthen his wife's faith in his fidelity. Beautiful as she was herself, she soon found that he was by no means blind to the charms of other women.

She turned to the nurse with a suppressed sigh, and said, quietly:

"You may dress Ruby now in a white hat and dress, and cardinal sash, while I am getting ready."

Then she kissed Ruby and went to her dressing-room. Golden hastened to follow her instructions.

"We shall go to the seaside next week and stay two months. Shall you like that, Mary?" asked the child, while Golden was brushing her dark curls over her fingers.

"I dare say I shall like it, if you do," replied the girl.

"Oh, we will have a splendid time. We will go bathing in the sea in the mornings, and afterward we will stroll on the sands, and gather beautiful, rosy shells. At night they have balls and dancing. Sometimes mamma lets me stay up awhile to see them dance. Oh, it is grand fun! I wish I was a grown lady," cried the child, flapping her hands.

Golden listened in silence, and the strange loneliness and quietude of the life in which she had been reared, struck her more and more by its contrast with the bright, bustling world outside and beyond Glenalvan Hall.

When little Ruby had gone away for her drive with her mother, she sat down in the quiet nursery and resigned herself to thought.

Her thought went back to the gray, old hall in the sunny south, and the kind, old man she had deserted. She wondered if he would forgive her, and pray for her that she might find her mother.

"I shall never find her now," she thought. "I have lost my money, and it will be a long time before I can earn enough to resign my situation here, and try to find her. Mrs. Markham was so sweet and kind. I wonder if she would help me. But, no, she would scorn me like all the rest, if she knew the story of my poor, young mother's disgrace."

"Good-morning, little Mary. Where is my daughter this morning?" said a clear, musical voice.

Golden looked up with a start, and saw Mr. Desmond, standing, tall, debonair and handsome, in the center of the lofty apartment. He had entered and closed the door so softly that she had not heard a sound.

"Miss Ruby has gone out driving with her mother," she answered.

"Ah," said Mr. Desmond. "I suppose she will not be gone long, so I will wait here until she returns."

He drew forward a chair quite close to hers. Golden regarded him in surprise.

"Miss Ruby was very anxious that you should go with her, but her mother said you had a business engagement this morning and could not find time to gratify her," she remarked to him, rather pointedly.

He flushed, then laughed carelessly.

"Oh, yes, so I did have," he replied, "I only looked in a minute to bid Ruby good-morning."

"Yes, sir," the nurse replied, constrainedly, and looked out of the window. The way Mr. Desmond regarded her out of his large, bold eyes made her feel slightly nervous. She heartily wished that he would go away and leave her alone.

But Mr. Desmond seemed in no haste to fulfill his business engagement. He sat silently a moment, regarding the delicate profile of the half averted face, then said, carelessly:

"Where do you come from, Mary—New York?"

"I am from the south, Mr. Desmond," said the girl, biting her lips to keep back her resentment at his familiar address.

"Indeed? From what part of the south?" he inquired.