A Heart-Song of To-day | Page 2

regret my fetters and wish me free? It shall be as you say."
Only that Mrs. Tompkins' attention was wholly given to her companion, she would have noticed the heavy curtains opposite her and separating her boudoir from a small morning-room pushed aside, and a pair of wrathful blazing eyes watching her every movement; had either been near enough, they would have heard a muttered oath at her last words.
"As I wish! 'tis well I am his friend, chere madame, for there are not many men would bid you to the altar with another, but I say take him, there is not a better fellow in the kingdom, and here is my benediction," and he laughingly lifted her hand to his lips.
"And is that all you care for me? Heavens! what different stuff we are made of, you can bid me to another, while I could kill. Nay, don't start. Yes, could kill a woman you might love. And the speaker looked her words, while there was almost a sob in her voice as her bosom heaved convulsively.
"My dear Mrs. Tompkins, you honor me too much; believe me, 'tis but a passing fancy on your part."
"Passing fancy, never! Listen; you say you love no woman in especial, wed me; love begets love; I am the wooer I know, but you are as handsome as a god, and I have been always one to speak as I feel; yea, and get what I want most days," she added, leaning forward and smiling into his mesmeric eyes. "Come to me," and her heart was in her words. "Come, you are poor in wealth, men say I have millions in gold, try and love me and--"
"And--and what next--Kate--by gad, a pretty speech, allow me to congratulate you. How do, Trevalyon; at your old game of slaughtering hearts?" The speaker had come from behind the curtains and was the owner of the wrathful eyes; a heavily built man of medium weight, a bold man with a handsome black beard, though the top of his head was bald. "You were always a good shot, Trevalyon, when the target was a heart," he repeated savagely.
"'Twas you, who bagged the delicate game, if I remember you aright, Delrose," said Trevalyon, with the utmost _sang-froid_ as he leaned backwards and with his right hand fondled his long tawny moustache.
"George Delrose, what makes you here? You are Lucifer himself, I believe," said Mrs. Tompkins wrathfully, pushing his hand from her shoulder and starting to her feet.
"I gave strict orders to Peter to admit no one to my presence. I shall discharge Him, and at once."
"Take it easy, Kate, I have promoted him to my service."
"From gold lo brass is no promotion; he knows not the value of metals."
"Jove! how like they are, the same bold handsome style, reckless to the last degree," thought Trevalyon.
"They are both a passport to society! all a man wants to-day! so, my pretty Kate don't look so severe, I have one, you have the other," said Delrose audaciously, and attempting to take her hand.
"No, I won't take your hand, go away this moment," and a decided foot went down, "leave Captain Trevalyon and myself to conclude our interview."
"You forget the proprieties, Kate, and though I like not the fruit, I'll play gooseberry," and seating himself he coolly poured out a glass of champagne.
"Shall I make my adieux, Mrs. Tompkins; it grows late?" said Trevalyon, about to rise from his chair.
"No, stay awhile," said his hostess softly, for she thought Delrose might go and she might so act on the feelings of Trevalyon by the magnets love and gold as to win. In the meantime he thought as he stroked his moustachs lazily, "a dashingly handsome woman, pity she has let that dare-devil Delrose get some hold over her."
Major Delrose drank like a thirsty man, then folding his arms glared defiantly at Kate who returned his gaze while trembling with wrath, her eyes flashing.
"George Delrose, you are a coward to force yourself into a woman's presence. Go this moment! I command you, or I shall summon the household. Are you going?"
"No, by the Horse Guards! _I am not_!" and the flush of anger deepened on his cheek. "I tell you, Kate, I am not a man to be made a football of; don't, if you have a remnant of pity in your heart, drive me mad by talk of marriage with another."
"And why not, pray?" inquired Mrs. Tompkins, recklessly, the next instant regretting her foolhardiness, and before the eyes of the men, one of whom she had a passion for; the other who had a passion for herself, that she had outlived; and now with quick resolve and latent meaning, knowing the intruder's love for coins, continued: "Even did the Sultan of Turkey fancy me to