Mr. Middleton arose and followed his niece, who congratulated herself on
the success of her stratagem. After reaching her room, and exhibiting her
painting, she said to her uncle, "I do hope you will not ask Mrs.
Carrington to go to New Orleans this summer."
"Why not?" said Mr. Middleton. "She seems anxious that I should do so."
"I know it," answered Julia; "but I am afraid she is not a good woman. At
least she had a bad influence over me, and I always feel wicked after
being with her awhile."
As Julia had supposed, this had the desired effect. Mr. Middleton would
not ask one to visit him whose influence over his niece was bad.
Consequently, all Mrs. Carrington's hints were unnoticed or misunderstood.
She, however, knew tolerably well to whom she was indebted for the slight;
and when, after Mr. Middleton's departure, Julia said to her, "I wonder
uncle did not invite you, too; I thought he was going to do so," she
replied, rather sharply, "I fancy I should have been under no obligations
to you, Miss Julia, if I had received an invitation." Then turning, she
hastily entered her room, and throwing herself upon the sofa, she tried to
devise some scheme by which she could undermine Julia, provided Dr. Lacey
should show her any marked attention.
Mrs. Carrington was not in a very enviable mood. The night before Raymond
had offered her his heart and hand, and of course had been rejected. He
was in the parlor when Julia so abruptly took her uncle away. As there was
no one present besides Mrs. Carrington, he seized upon that moment to
declare his love. It is impossible to describe the loathing and contempt
which she pretended to feel for him who sued so earnestly for her hand,
even if her heart did not accompany it. Nothing daunted by her haughty
refusal, Raymond arose, and standing proudly before the indignant lady
said, "Ida Carrington, however much dislike you may pretend to feel for me
I do not believe it. I know I am not wholly disagreeable to you, and were
I possessed of thousands, you would gladly seize the golden bait. I do not
ask you to love me, for it is not in your nature to love anything. You are
ambitious, and even now are dreaming of one whom you will never win; for
just as sure as yon sun shall set again, so sure you, proud lady, shall
one day be my wife."
When Mrs. Carrington had recovered a little from the surprise into which
Raymond's fiery speech had thrown her, he was gone and she was alone.
"Impudent puppy!" said she; "and yet he was right in saying he was not
disagreeable to me. But I'll never be his wife. I'd die first!" Still, do
what she would, a feeling haunted her that Raymond's prediction would
prove true. Perhaps it was this which made her so determined to supplant
Julia in Dr. Lacey's good opinion, should he ever presume to think
favorably of her. How she succeeded we shall see hereafter.