Mischievous Maid Faynie, Page 2

  CHAPTER II.

  "YOU MUST NOT MARRY HIM--HEAVEN INTENDED YOU FOR ME."

  Slowly but surely the sturdy engine struggled on through the hugesnowdrifts, reaching Beechwood a little after seven, over an hour and ahalf behind time.

  Lester Armstrong swung himself off the rear platform into fully fivefeet of snow, floundering helplessly about for an instant, while thetrain plunged onward, and at last struck the path that led up over thehills in the village beyond.

  Beechwood consisted of but a few elegant homes owned and occupied byretired New Yorkers of wealth. Horace Fairfax was perhaps the mostinfluential, as well as the wealthiest of these; his magnificent home onthe brow of the farthest hill was certainly the most imposing andpretentious.

  Lester Armstrong's heart gave a great bound as he came within sight ofit, standing like a great castle, with its peaks and gables, and windowsall blazing with light and the red glow of inward warmth against itsdark background of fir trees more than a century old, and the whitewilderness of snow stretching out and losing itself in the darknessbeyond.

  All heedless of the terrible storm raging about him, the young manpaused at the arched gate and looked with sad wistfulness, as he leanedhis arms on one of the stone pillars, up the serpentine path that led tothe main entrance.

  "What I ought to do is never to see Faynie again," he murmured, but asthe bare thought rushed through his mind, his handsome face paled to thelips and his strong frame trembled. Never see Faynie again! That wouldmean shut out the only gleam of sunshine that had ever lighted up thegray somberness of his existence; take away from him the only dear joythat had made life worth the living for the few months. He had driftedinto these clandestine meetings, not by design; chance, or fate, rather,had forced him into it.

  Mr. Marsh, the senior member of the firm by whom he was employed, alsoresided in Beechwood. It was his whim that the keys of the privateoffice should be brought to him each night. Thus it happened that theperformance of his duties led Lester each evening past the Fairfax home.

  One summer evening he espied Faynie, the object of his ardentadmiration, standing in the flower garden, herself the fairest flower ofall. It was beyond human nature to resist stopping still to gaze uponher. This he did, believing himself unseen, but Faynie Fairfax hadbeheld the tall, well-known form afar down the road, and she was notdispleased at the prospect of having a delightful little chat with thehandsome young cashier.

  Faynie's home was not as congenial to the young girl as it might havebeen, for a stepmother reigned supreme there, and all of her love waslavished upon her own daughter Claire, a crippled, quiet girl of aboutFaynie's own age, and Faynie was left to do about as she pleased. Herfather almost lived in his library among his books, and she saw littleof him for days at a time.

  Therefore there was no one to notice why Faynie suddenly developed sucha liking for roaming in the garden at twilight; no one to notice thegrowing attachment that sprang up and deepened into the strongest oflove between the petted heiress and the poor young cashier.

  Lester Armstrong had struggled manfully against it, but it was for ahigher power than man's to direct where the love of his heart should go.He made strong resolutions that the lovely maiden should never guess theexisting state of affairs, but he might as well have attempted to staythe mighty waters of the ocean by his weak will. All in an unforeseenmoment the words burst from his lips--the secret he had attempted toguard so carefully was out.

  He had expected that beautiful Faynie Fairfax would turn from him inanger and dismay, but to his intense surprise, she burst into a flood oftears, even though she looked at him with smiling lips, April sunshineand showers commingled, confessing with all a young girl's pretty,hesitating shyness that she loved him, even as he loved her, with allher heart. Then followed half an hour of bliss for the lovers such asthe poets tell of in their verses of a glimpse of Paradise.

  Although they exchanged a hundred vows of eternal affection, LesterArmstrong hesitated to speak of marriage yet. Faynie was young--onlyeighteen. There was plenty of time. And to tell the truth, he dared notface the possibilities of it just yet. It required a little more couragethan he had been able to muster up to seek an audience with themillionaire--beard the lion in his den, as it were--and dare proposesuch a monstrously preposterous thing as the asking of his lovely,dainty young daughter's hand in marriage. Lester was timid. He dreadedbeyond words the setting of the ball rolling which would tear hisbeautiful love and himself asunder. Heaven help him, he was sounutterably happy in the bewildering present.

  His reverie was suddenly interrupted by seeing a little black figurehurrying down the path. Another instant, and the little breathlessfigure was clasped in his arms, close, close to his madly throbbingheart.

  "Oh, Faynie, my love, my darling, my precious, why did you brave thefury of the tempest to keep the tryst to-night? I am here, but I did notexpect you, much as I love to see you. I was praying you would notventure out. Oh, my precious, what is it?" he cried in alarm, as thefitful light of the gas lamp that hung over the arched gate fell fullupon her. "Your sweet face is as white as marble, and your beautifulgolden hair is wet with drifted snow, as is your cloak."

  To his intense amazement and distress, she burst into the wildest ofsobs and clung to him like a terrified child. All in vain he attemptedto soothe her and find out what it was all about.

  The first thought that flashed through his mind was that their meetingshad been discovered, and that they meant to put him from Faynie, and hestrained her closer to his heart, crying out that whatever it was,nothing save death should separate them.

  Little by little the story came out, and the two young lovers, claspedso fondly in each other's arms, did not feel the intense cold or hearthe wild moaning of the winds around them. Through her tears Faynie toldher handsome, strong young lover just what had happened. Her father hadsent for her to come to his library that morning, and when she hadcomplied with the summons, he had informed her that a friend of his hadasked for her hand in marriage, and he had consented, literally settlingthe matter without consulting her, the one most vitally interested. Shehad most furiously rebelled, there had been a terrible scene, and it hadended by her father harshly bidding her to prepare for the wedding,which would take place on the morrow, adding that a father was supposedto know best what to do for his daughter's interests; that the fiat hadgone forth; that she would marry the husband he had selected for her onthe morrow, though all the angels above or the demons below attempted tofrustrate it.

  "You will save me, Lester?" cried the girl, wildly clinging to him withdeath-cold hands. "Oh, Lester, my love, tell me, what am I to do? He isvery old, quite forty, and I am only eighteen. I abhor him quite as muchas I love you, Lester. Tell me, dear, what am I to do?"

  He gathered her close in his arms in an agony that words are too weak toportray.

  "You shall not, you must not, marry the man your father has selected foryou, my darling. You are mine, Faynie, and you must marry me," he cried,hoarsely. "Heaven intended us for each other, and for no one else. Youshall be mine past the power of any one human to part us ere themorrow's light dawns, if--if you wish it so."

  She clung to him, weeping hysterically, answering:

  "Oh, yes, Lester, let it be so. I will marry you, and you will take meaway from this place, where no one, save Claire--not even myfather--loves me."

  He strained her to his throbbing heart with broken words, but at thatinstant the shriek of an approaching train sounded upon his ears. Hetore himself away from her encircling embrace.

  "To do all that I have to do, I must return to the city, quickly arrangefor the marriage and a suitable place to take my bride. I will return byten o'clock. Be at this gate, my darling, with whatever change ofclothing you wish to take with you. I will bring a carriage. The way bycarriage road from the city is less than seven miles, you know. We willdrive to the minister's in the village below. A few words and I shallhave the right to protect you through life, and oh! my darling, my ido
l,my trusting little love, may God deal by me as I deal with you!"

  Those were the last words Faynie heard, for in the next instant herlover had torn himself free from her clinging arms and was dashing likeone mad through the drifts toward the railroad station again. Then, witha strange, unaccountable presentiment of coming evil, Faynie Fairfaxturned and stole up the serpentine path into the house again.

  In just an hour's time Lester Armstrong was hurrying along Broadwayagain, making all haste toward his lodgings. Suddenly some one tappedhim on the shoulder, and a voice which he instantly recognised as hiscousin's said, laughingly:

  "Both bent in the same direction, it seems. Well, we'll travel alongtogether to your lodging house, Lester."

  But alas! Who can see the strange workings of destiny? In that instantLester Armstrong slipped on the icy pavement, and Kendale, bendingquickly over him, exclaimed:

  "He has broken his neck! He is dying. He won't last five minutes!"