Part 25 (1/2)

”Wait till the madam comes and then we'll see,” she thought, referring to Mrs. Cameron, and feeling delighted when that very day she heard that lady's voice in the parlor.

But Mrs. Cameron, though a little anxious with regard to both Mrs.

Hubbell's and Marian's antecedents, and a little doubtful as to the effect a common dressmaker's nursing might have upon the child, saw at once that Wilford was in favor of New London and so voted accordingly, only asking that she might see and talk with Marian Hazelton herself.

”One can judge so much better from hearing one converse. If her manner should be very bad and her grammar execrable, I should consider it my duty to withdraw my consent,” she said, with as much deliberation as if the matter were wholly at her disposal. ”Would Katy drive around with her to Marian Hazelton's to-morrow?”

Katy would be delighted; and so next day Mrs. Cameron, the elder, was holding high her aristocratic skirts and glancing ruefully around as she followed Mrs. Cameron, the younger, up the three flights of stairs to Marian's door, which did not open to the a.s.sured knock, nor yet yield to the gentle pressure. Marian was out, and there was no alternative but for Katy to scribble a few lines upon the card she left upon the k.n.o.b, telling Marian who had been there, and requesting her to call that evening at No. ---- Fifth Avenue, as the elder Mrs. Cameron was particularly anxious to see her before committing her grandchild to her care. ”Please go, Marian, for my sake,” Katy added, but in reading to Wilford's mother what she had written, she omitted that, and so escaped a lecture from that lady upon undue familiarity with inferiors.

CHAPTER XXVI.

HOW IT ENDED.

”Will Marian go to No. ---- Fifth Avenue?” Marian asked herself that question many times, as with Katy's card in her hand she stood pondering the subject and feeling glad of the good fortune which had sent her from home when Wilford's mother called.

Yes, Marian would; and at the hour between the daylight and the dark, just as the lamps are lighted in the street, and before they are usually lighted in the parlors there was a ring at the door, whose ma.s.sive plate bore the name of Cameron, and the colored man who answered that ring stared at the figure he ushered in, seating it in the dim hall and asking for the name.

”Miss Hazelton wishes to see Mrs. Cameron,” was the reply, and at the sound of that musical, well-bred voice, the servant half opened the parlor door, but closed it again as he went for his mistress, who expressed her surprise that Marian Hazelton should presume to enter where she did.

”Maybe she is a lady, mother; Katy raves about her continually,” Bell said; but with an air of incredulity at the lady part, Mrs. Cameron swept haughtily down the broad staircase, the rustle of her heavy silk sending a chill of fear through Marian's frame, but not affecting her so much as did the voice; the cold, proud, metallic voice, which said to her as she half arose to her feet, ”Miss Hazelton, I believe?”

At that sound there crept over her the same sensation she had felt years ago, whenever the tones of that voice fell on her ear, for this was not the first meeting of Mrs. Cameron and Marian Hazelton. But for all the former guessed or knew, it was the first, and she looked curiously at the graceful figure, but dimly seen in the shadowy twilight, noticing the thick green veil which so nearly concealed the face, and wondering why it was worn, or being worn, why it was kept so nearly down.

”Miss Hazelton, I believe?” was all that had pa.s.sed between them as yet, for at these words a great fear had come upon Marian lest her own voice should seem as natural as did the one which had just spoken to her.

But she could not stand there long without answering, and so she ventured at last to say:

”Yes, I found Mrs. Wilford Cameron's note, and came around as she requested.”

There was nothing objectionable in that remark, while the voice was very, very sweet and musical, so musical, indeed, so like a voice heard before, that Mrs. Cameron involuntarily went a step nearer to the stranger, and even thought of calling up a servant to light the gas. But that would perhaps be too great a civility, or at least betoken too great a curiosity, and so she forebore, while she began to question Marian of her own and Mrs. Hubbell's antecedents. Both were English, both had worked upon the Isle of Wight, and later in New York, at Madam ----'s; one had married, living now in New London, and the other Stood there as Marian Hazelton, puzzling and bewildering Mrs. Cameron, who tried to recall the person of whom she was reminded by that voice and that manner, so wholly ladylike and refined.

Marian Hazelton pleased her, as was apparent from her expressing a wish that ”as far as practicable Miss Hazelton should take charge of the child. We cannot tell how early life-long impression may be made, and it is desirable that they be of the right nature, and wholly in accordance with refinement and good-breeding.”

There was a curl on Marian's lip as she remembered another meeting with the proud lady whose words were not as complimentary as now, but she merely bent her head in supposed acquiescence to the belief that Baby Cameron was, or soon would be, capable of discriminating between a nurse refined and one the opposite. There was a moment's silence and then Marian asked if baby had been christened?

”Not yet, we cannot decide upon a name,” was the reply, while Marian continued:

”I understood your daughter that it was to be Genevra.”

Marian Hazelton was growing too familiar, and so the lady deigned no answer, but stepped a little to one side, as if she would thus indicate that the conference was ended.

Dropping her veil entirely over her face, for the servant was now lighting the parlor lamps, Marian turned toward the door which Mrs.

Cameron opened, and she pa.s.sed out just as up the steps came Wilford, Marian's skirts brus.h.i.+ng him as she pa.s.sed, and her heart beating painfully as she thought of her escape and began to realize the danger she incurred when she accepted the office of partial nurse to his child.

”Dark, mother? How is that? Why is the hall not lighted?” she heard him say, and the old, familiar tones, so little changed, vibrated sadly in her ear, as she dashed away a tear, and then hurried on through the darkened streets toward her humble home, so different from the Cameron's.

”Who was that, mother?” Wilford said, expressing regret that he had not happened in a little earlier, so as to have seen her himself, and asking what his mother thought of her.

”I liked her. She seemed a well-bred person, and her voice is much like Genevra's.”