Beulah - Page 57/348

"I merely opened the gate for him," replied the girl, looking

steadily up at the searching eyes.

"There was a servant with him to do that. In future don't make

yourself so conspicuous. You must keep away from the flower beds

too. The doctor wishes no one prowling about them; he gave

particular directions that no one should go there in his absence."

They eyed each other an instant; then, drawing up her slender form

to its utmost height, Beulah replied proudly: "Be assured, madam, I shall not trespass on forbidden ground!"

"Very well." The lace curtains swept back to their place--the fair

face was withdrawn.

"She hates me," thought Beulah, walking on to her own room; "she

hates me, and certainly I do not love her. I shall like Pauline very

much, but her mother and I never will get on smoothly. What freezing

eyes she has, and what a disagreeable look there is about her mouth

whenever she sees me! She wishes me to remember all the time that I

am poor, and that she is the mistress of this elegant house. Ah, I

am not likely to forget it!" The old smile of bitterness crossed her

face.

The days passed swiftly. Beulah spent most of her time in her own

room, for Dr. Hartwell was sometimes absent all day, and she longed

to escape his sister's icy espionage. When he was at home, and not

engaged in his study, his manner was always kind and considerate;

but she fancied he was colder and graver, and often his stern

abstraction kept her silent when they were together. Monday was the

birthday, and on Monday morning she expected to start to school.

Madam St. Cymon's was the fashionable institution of the city, and

thither, with Pauline, she was destined. Beulah rose early, dressed

herself carefully, and, after reading a chapter in her Bible, and

asking God's special guidance through the day, descended to the

breakfast room. Dr. Hartwell sat reading a newspaper; he did not

look up, and she quietly seated herself unobserved. Presently Mrs.

Chilton entered and walked up to her brother.

"Good-morning, Guy. Are there no tidings of that vessel yet? I hear

the Grahams are terribly anxious about it. Cornelia said her father

was unable to sleep."

"No news yet; but, May, be sure you do not let--"

"Was it the 'Morning Star'? Is he lost?"

Beulah stood crouching at his side, with her hands extended

pleadingly, and her white face convulsed.

"My child, do not look so wretched; the vessel that Eugene sailed in

was disabled in a storm, and has not yet reached the place of

destination. But there are numerous ways of accounting for the

detention, and you must hope and believe that all is well until you

know the contrary." He drew her to his side, and stroked her head

compassionately.