The Woman in the Alcove | Page 6

not marry you if I must expose you to privation or to the genteel
poverty I hate. I love you more than you realize, and wish to make your
life a happy one. I can not give you all you have been accustomed to in
your rich uncle's house, but if matters prosper with me, if the chance I
have built on succeeds-- and it will fail or succeed tonight--you will
have those comforts which love will heighten into luxuries and--and--"
He was becoming incoherent again, and this time with his eyes fixed
elsewhere than on my face. Following his gaze, I discovered what had
distracted his attention. The lady with the diamond was approaching us
on her way to the alcove. She was accompanied by two gentlemen,
both strangers to me, and her head, sparkling with brilliants, was
turning from one to the other with an indolent grace. I was not
surprised that the man at my side quivered and made a start as if to rise.
She was a gorgeous image. In comparison with her imposing figure in
its trailing robe of rich pink velvet, my diminutive frame in its
sea-green gown must have looked as faded and colorless as a
half-obliterated pastel.
"A striking woman," I remarked as I saw he was not likely to resume
the conversation which her presence had interrupted. "And what a
diamond!"
The glance he cast me was peculiar.
"Did you notice it particularly?" he asked.
Astonished, for there was something very uneasy in his manner so that
I half expected to see him rise and join the group he was so eagerly
watching without waiting for my lips to frame a response, I quickly
replied:
"It would be difficult not to notice what one would naturally expect to
see only on the breast of a queen. But perhaps she is a queen. I should
judge so from the homage which follows her."
His eyes sought mine. There was inquiry in them, but it was an inquiry
I did not understand.
"What can you know about diamonds?" he presently demanded.
"Nothing but their glitter, and glitter is not all,--the gem she wears may
be a very tawdry one."
I flushed with humiliation. He was a dealer in gems--that was his
business--and the check which he had put upon my enthusiasm

certainly made me conscious of my own presumption. Yet I was not
disposed to take back my words. I had had a better opportunity than
himself for seeing this remarkable jewel, and, with the perversity of a
somewhat ruffled mood, I burst forth, as soon as the color had subsided
from my cheeks:
"No, no! It is glorious, magnificent. I never saw its like. I doubt if you
ever have, for all your daily acquaintance with jewels. Its value must be
enormous. Who is she? You seem to know her."
It was a direct question, but I received no reply. Mr. Durand's eyes had
followed the lady, who had lingered somewhat ostentatiously on the
top step and they did not return to me till she had vanished with her
companions behind the long plush curtain which partly veiled the
entrance. By this time he had forgotten my words, if he had ever heard
them and it was with the forced animation of one whose thoughts are
elsewhere that he finally returned to the old plea:
When would I marry him? If he could offer me a home in a month--
and he would know by to-morrow if he could do so--would I come to
him then? He would not say in a week; that was perhaps to soon; but in
a month? Would I not promise to be his in a month?
What I answered I scarcely recall. His eyes had stolen back to the
alcove and mine had followed them. The gentlemen who had
accompanied the lady inside were coming out again, but others were
advancing to take their places, and soon she was engaged in holding a
regular court in this favored retreat.
Why should this interest me? Why should I notice her or look that way
at all? Because Mr. Durand did? Possibly. I remember that for all his
ardent love-making, I felt a little piqued that he should divide his
attentions in this way. Perhaps I thought that for this evening, at least,
he might have been blind to a mere coquette's fascinations.
I was thus doubly engaged in listening to my lover's words and in
watching the various gentlemen who went up and down the steps, when
a former partner advanced and reminded me that I had promised him a
waltz. Loath to leave Mr. Durand, yet seeing no way of excusing
myself to Mr. Fox, I cast an appealing glance at the former and was
greatly chagrined