In less time than it takes to tell it, the strained relationship between Eugene Mallard and his bride was whispered through the household. They had laughed at old Black Joe when he had whispered the story of their silence from the railroad station, declaring he was romancing. Later events certainly gave color to the story, however. She was all that was sweet and fair. What could be the trouble?
"If there was ever a bride most wretchedly unhappy, she is that one," said Mrs. Rice, shaking her head.
"Why did he marry her if he did not love her? I can not understand it, I am sure."
Mrs. Rice went to the bride's room the next morning to awaken her. She found her already up and sitting by the window, and there was no indication that she had removed her dress. This was reduced to a certainty when she went into the adjoining apartment and found the couch just as it had been the previous evening.
She went back to where young Mrs. Mallard was sitting, and laid her hand gently upon the girl's arm.
"I hope you will be happy with us here, my dear," she said in her sweet, gentle old voice, "for we will do everything to serve you. I have been here for many years and have witnessed the home-coming of many of the brides of the Mallards. There was never one that I took to more than I did to you, my dear child. I felt like taking you in my arms and pressing you to my heart. But you seem lonely. Tell me, is there anything I can do for you?"
Ida lifted her face.
"You are very, very kind," she said, gratefully, "and I thank you with all my heart."
She looked as if she were about to add something, but quickly checked herself.
"Perhaps you would like to see the grounds, my[138] dear," said Mrs. Rice. "Will you come out into the garden?"
The young woman acquiesced readily enough.
"Your trunks have not come yet, my dear," said Mrs. Rice, as they walked along. "The railway service in this part of the country is abominable. It looks strange to have you come down to breakfast in your traveling-dress, but—"
"I have no trunks coming. This is the only dress I have to wear at present," returned the girl, quietly.
It was as much as the old housekeeper could do to restrain herself from an exclamation of astonishment at this announcement.
What could it mean? Why had Eugene Mallard's bride no trousseau, as he had been preparing for this event for months, as eager in his anticipation of it as a school-boy for a holiday! She could not understand it; she felt mystified. But with the quick wit habitual to her, Mrs. Rice replied almost instantly:
"A wardrobe can be easily supplied by our Virginia modistes. Indeed, they are world-famous, I may add. They make dresses for many of the ladies of Washington on the shortest notice. Mr. Mallard pressed a roll of bills into my hand when he arrived, and said: 'See that my wife has everything needful, Mrs. Rice.' I could not think what he meant at the time. Now I see it was your wardrobe he referred to. You and I will set about getting the things at once. Or if it will fatigue you too much after your journey, you leave it to me, and I will see that you have a complete wardrobe in a short time. You must not say no, my dear; for remember, it is your husband's wish, and you surely wish to please him."
The girl looked at her with the strangest expression in her dark eyes.
"Nothing that I could do would please him," she said, hopelessly.
Mrs. Rice did not tell that remark to the servants, or there would have been no end of gossip among them.
"There is some great mystery between Eugene Mallard and his bride," she said to herself. "I will not attempt[139] to probe into the mystery, but I will endeavor to bring them together, if it lies within human power."
The fortnight that followed, the old mansion was fairly alive with guests coming and going.
Eugene Mallard could not help but admire Ida for bearing up so bravely under the terrible ordeal. During that fortnight a strange thing happened—the cruelest blow that Heaven could have dealt Ida. The lovely girl had learned to love Eugene Mallard with all the strength o............