Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha

Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection - Finley Martha


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to foot.

      "Him!" Mildred cried in increased amazement, "what is he to you? No, no, I do not ask that. I have no wish to pry into your secrets."

      Miss Worth lifted her head, and wiped away her tears.

      "Thank you, for withdrawing that question," she said in a broken voice, "I cannot answer it; but—but this much I will tell you in the strictest confidence. I have known him in other days, and he is not what he professes to be; and it would be ruin, ruin to her!"

      "Is that so?" Mildred said, with a startled look. "Then surely you will warn her?"

      "I have done so, Miss Keith, though it was like drawing my eye teeth to do it; but my sacrifice was unappreciated, my motives were misconstrued; I was treated with scorn and contempt, and have said to myself, 'I have a just right to be angry and indignant, and shall leave her to her fate.'"

      "But you will tell my uncle? He might be able to prevent the mischief by setting a watch upon them, and forbidding the man the house."

      "No, no, I cannot betray him!" cried Miss Worth in a startled, terrified tone, "and you—you will respect my confidence, Miss Keith?"

      "Certainly; but—surely you will not suffer Juliet to be sacrificed?"

      "I have warned her," returned the governess, coldly, "and since she refuses to heed, on her own head be the consequences."

      It was Mildred's turn to be troubled and perplexed. She stood for a moment in anxious thought.

      "Will you not make one more effort?" she said at length. "Would you not save him from this wrong doing? May not the consequences be dreadful to him, too? may not her father take a terrible revenge, as men sometimes do on the deceivers and betrayers of their daughters?"

      Miss Worth started, and her wan cheek turned a shade paler.

      "I had not thought of that!" she said, drawing a long breath. "Oh, what shall I do?"

      They consulted together, but with no more definite result than a mutual agreement to keep a strict watch upon the movements of Juliet and her pseudo nobleman.

      Mildred was again about to withdraw, when Miss Worth stopped her.

      "Pardon me, Miss Keith," she said, "but you have not answered my questions."

      "They all go to the theatre to-night, and, as I happen to know, Mr. Landreth is to escort Miss Juliet."

      "Not the count? but she will meet him there; I am sure of it. You do not go, Miss Mildred?"

      "To the theatre! oh, no!"

      "Then I must go myself, and watch them."

      "Surely that is not necessary," reasoned Mildred, "Uncle, Aunt, Reba—all close at hand."

      "Ah! perhaps not," assented the governess, "Possibly it were wiser to leave the task to them."

      Mildred went to her room to ponder and pray over the matter, for she was sorely perplexed, and not a little anxious for Juliet.

      She asked help and direction for herself and Miss Worth; and that the latter might be led to do her duty, however difficult and painful.

      Greatly she wondered what was the tie between her and this spurious count, till it flashed upon her that his familiar look was a strong likeness to the governess. Then she knew it was that of relationship.

      Her own duty in the affair formed a serious question in her mind.

      Much she wished Miss Worth's communication had not been made in confidence, and that she were free to carry it to her uncle, who would, in that case, be sure to interfere effectually to save Juliet from falling a prey to the schemes of this false, designing man.

      She could not break her word to the governess, but at length, recalling the fact that she had heard Reba say her father was suspicious of Count De Lisle, she determined to repeat that to her uncle, and thus put him on his guard against the villain, and his probable plot to inveigle Juliet into a clandestine marriage.

      It was not a pleasant thing for Mildred to do; she would much rather not interfere, but Juliet must be saved at all risks, and neither she nor Reba had seemed to make a secret of their father's sentiments.

      She went at once in search of Mr. Dinsmore, but learned that he was closeted with a gentleman on business. Then a summons came for her to drive out with her aunt; tea was ready when they returned; after that she was occupied with company in the drawing-room, then in assisting Juliet and Reba to make their toilet for the evening.

      Thus the time slipped by, and when the carriage had driven away with its load of theatre goers, she retired to her own room, without having had the least opportunity for a word in private with Mr. Dinsmore.

      Chapter Fifteenth.

       Table of Contents

      "It is vain

       (I see) to argue 'gainst the grain."

       —Butler.

      Juliet had scarcely taken her seat in Mr. Dinsmore's box when a sweeping glance around the theatre showed her Count De Lisle occupying another at no great distance.

      She telegraphed him behind her fan, and during the interval between the first and second acts he joined them.

      When Juliet re-entered the carriage which was to convey her home, she carried within her glove, a tiny note written on fine, tinted, highly scented French paper, which he had adroitly slipped into her hand, unobserved by any of her companions.

      Under cover of the darkness she transferred it to her bosom, and the first moment that she found herself alone in her dressing-room, it was hastily drawn forth and read at a glance.

      Her cheeks flushed, her eyes shone, as with a triumphant smile she refolded and laid it safely by.

      On leaving the room to go down to her late breakfast the next morning, she carried it with her; for not for any consideration would she risk having it seen by other eyes than her own.

      She was very late and a good deal flurried in consequence; her thoughts were busy, too, with the important step she had determined to take that night. In her absence of mind she must have been guilty of some carelessness, for on returning to her room, after dawdling for an hour over her meal in company with her aunt and sister, she was horrified to find that the note was missing.

      In vain she searched her pockets, shook out the folds of her dress, hunted everywhere, even retracing her steps all the way to the breakfast parlor and looking under and around the table. It was hopelessly lost and she dare not make any ado or inquiry about it.

      She was exceedingly fretted and troubled but must conceal her anxiety, only hoping that it had fallen into some place where it would be undiscovered until she and the count had made good their escape from Roselands, and placed themselves beyond successful pursuit.

      Fortunately, as she esteemed it, no one had been witness to her perturbation, or her quest, Reba and their aunt having, upon leaving the table, retired together to the boudoir of the latter.

      Dire would have been Juliet's anger and alarm could she have known what had actually become of her missing treasure.

      Miss Worth, in passing between the schoolroom and her own apartment, caught sight of a bit of paper lying on the floor at the head of the stairway, and stooping, picked it up.

      There was neither seal nor superscription upon the outside; therefore there seemed nothing wrong or dishonorable in opening it, for indeed how otherwise was she to learn to whom it belonged in order to restore it?

      One glance told who was the writer (for she was no stranger to his peculiar chirography), to whom it was addressed, and what it signified.

      "My Angel, one o'clock A. M. to-morrow. Signal, cry of an owl beneath your window. Carriage in waiting beyond the hedge.

      "Your


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