A Heart-Song of To-day

Excerpt

CHAPTER I.

A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT, AND HIRES A GARDENER.

"By Jove! I have missed her; you are a very Circe, Mrs. Tompkins."

The speaker, one of the handsomest men I have ever seen, started to his feet as a beautiful Italian mantel clock rang in silver chimes the hour of midnight.

"Sit down again my dear Captain, I have not told you all, and am a wilful woman and must have my way. I know whom you have missed," she said truly, for Sir Tilton Everly has informed her, out-come her woman wit to prevent the meeting. "Is she anything to you?"

"No, and yes, as all women beautiful or fascinating are, I love you all."

"You have large capacities, Captain Trevalyon, but I must make you love one woman and only one, or I cannot sleep content," and the black amorous eyes rest on his face.

"Ye gods! a confession," thought Trevalyon. "Awkward for me as I want Haughton to have the innings; she is good fun and doesn't bore one, but I've missed Vaura again, fool I was to come."

"You don't seem curious" continued Mrs. Tompkins, rolling a small table on which was the debris of a petit champagne supper, from between them.

"Curious! a prerogative of your sex, fair madame, though any of your secrets would be chic enough to tempt a man to encroach," he answered gaily, drawing a chair near his own.

"Especially when 'tis of a woman who lives for him alone," and the handsome wealthy widow sank into the chair opposite him.

"Yes, for an hour, for a day, and 'tis pleasant so you see I know you gay butterflys," he said, lazily placing a foot-stool under the pretty feet of his companion.

"Not so," she said slowly, and with a new tenderness in her tones.
"Not so; but first I brought you here to tell you your friend Colonel
Haughton made me an offer of marriage this moaning. What say you;
would you 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....