Della Dare, and other stories

I . I

THE STRANGE WOMAN.

A clear sky looked down on the small farm in the valley, and bright rays of light penetrated windows and doors of the small farmhouse near the village of Kent.

‘‘Della, Della Dare!” cried a shrill voice within, “where are you, child? Come here with your books instantly.”

“Ha, ha!” rang a peal of silver sounding mirth, that brought Aunt Matilda quickly to the door, together with the sound of galloping hoofs.

“Ha, ha ! Aunt Matilda — no more horrid books today, for Guido and I are in for a gay long gallop.”

And turning her radiant face back upon her aunt, and waving her whip in defiance, she tossed her bright locks to the wind, and galloped off down the dusty village lane.

“Oh, dear, oh dear !” murmured Aunt Matilda, wringing her hands, and gazing after the form disappearing in the shadow of the trees, “she’ll break her neck some day !”

“The little venturesome imp !” she ejaculated.

“I’ll shake the breath out of her when she returns!”

“She cares nothing for books — only to gallop thru the woods and lanes mounted upon Guido’s back.”

What a lovely little body she was, as she lifted that sunny face in defiance — the face of a child of scarcely ten years, radiant with health and beauty, gifted with a rare expression of intellect, a delicate oval shape with a complexion wondrously fair, tinted with a color that deepened in her cheeks almost to a glowing crimson. The lips full and red, eyes, clear and gray, over arched with slender brows, the bright gold rings of hair floating on the breeze — all were extremely beautiful as they flashed in the sunlight, in strange contrast to the pale stern features of Aunt Matilda.

As was her wont, Della was now flying thru the woods, and coming under the shadow of a sycamore, she paused a moment, while Guido drank from a small running brook. The pet horse having quenched his thirst, she gathered up her reins for a fresh gallop, when her ear caught the sound of foot-steps ; and looking back, she saw approaching her a strange woman, whose strange magnetic fascination held her gaze. She had been sitting upon the edge of the stream, a few yards distant watching the little one intently, seated so majestically upon her fine black horse.

The stranger was robed in a neat costume of black and white, a fanciful hat partially covering her raven tresses. The fair face was that of a woman not more than eight and twenty years.

A sunny smile spread her classic features as her eyes met those of the child.

She beckoned her without a word to dismount, and Della obeying an inexplicable impulse, tied her horse to a limb of the sycamore, came forward, and seated herself by her side under the shade of the wide spreading branches. She displayed no fear as the woman caressed her cheek, and looked earnestly into her gray eyes.

“What is your name?” she suddenly asked.

“Della Dare.”

“Della,” the woman repeated, musingly. “No one but a mother would give her darling such a pretty name.”

“I heard my aunt say that the name was given me by my father,” answered Della, quietly.

“Your father?” absently. Unconsciously the woman dropped the small hand, a faint red surged thru her pale cheek, then faded away into ghastly pallor.

Della started up in alarm.

“Are you ill?” she interrogated.

“I am tired and hungry, little one, — ^and do you love your parents, Della?”

“I know nothing of them,” was the strange reply.

“I have no one at home, but Aunt Matilda, and she is so cross, I can not love her. I fancy she hates me at times.”

“Then you are not happy here?”

“No,” said Della, her eyes filling with tears, “I do not like Aunt Matilda — I want my mother.”

CLARINDENE

“Della,” said the strange woman, “I want you to come with me — you will be a happier child.”

Della could not repress the joy rising in her heart, tho she cast a plaintive glance at Guido.

“The horse will find his way home if you unloose him, will he not, Della?”

“Yes,” was the quick response, “he knows the way home as well as I do, but Guido and I have been such warm friends,” she said, striving to control the struggle in her bosom at thought of leaving him.

“I will take you to a better and lovelier home,” said the woman earnestly.

As Della’s eyes rested once again on the face full of silent entreaty, she forgot the claims of Aunt Matilda, her warm friendship for Guido, — ^forgot everything but the strange power of this fascinating woman.

Led by some irresistible force, she set the horse free, and while Guido was galloping home, she returned and said, “I will go.

Glancing hurriedly around, the woman grasped the hand of the child, and walked rapidly away.

II. Clarindene

Raye Fraser had amassed a large fortune and purchased a magnificent estate called Clarindene.

He had no wife nor children to share his riches, or inherit them. He was alone in the world with the exception of his orphaned nephew whom he had adopted, and who long since regarded himself as his rich uncle’s heir.

It was rumored one time that Raye Fraser was enamored of the beautiful blonde woman who suddenly came to an untimely death; and since then his heart had not been touched by artful women. He was now past sixty years of age and his once dark hair was fast turning gray.

He was sitting in his handsome library, buried in a favorite book, when the door opened, and a servant announced, that a woman wished to see him.

“Show her in,” was the somewhat stern command. The bright day was waning, and a soft breeze was playing with the blue tinted curtains that were drawn aside, and sweeping across the richly colored carpet.

The woman soon entered leading by the hand a fair beautiful child.

At the sound of his name, Raye Fraser came forward, and clasped the woman’s hand in a momentary cordial pressure.

“You have not forgotten me?” she said.

“I can never forget the debt of gratitude I owe you,” he answered promptly.

“Raye Fraser,” she said, in a steady tone, “I have come to claim the payment of that debt.”

He looked at her inquiringly.

She answered the unspoken question by glancing proudly at the child.

“You have no wife nor children,” she uttered.

“Would you not like to take this child whose parents have long since neglected, and give her a father’s love?”

“I have no wish to be burdened with care,” he faltered.

“You are rich, Raye Fraser, and can afford to rear this child. It would be a noble deed.”

The woman looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Can you not take care of her better than I?” he asked.

“I will bestow upon you or her a liberal amount of money.”

“I can not!” she cried, averting her eyes.

“You have denied an earnest woman’s request. I have nothing more to say. Come, Della.”

“Della!” he gasped to himself, as the sound of that sacred name fell on his ear, and softened his heart. “Stay!” he cried, with sudden gesture.

The woman and child turned.

“I will take her,” he said, advancing, a ray of pleasure lighting his countenance, “and do the best I can for her.”

“You will be happy in this beautiful place, Della,” the woman whispered bending over her.

“I don’t know,” returned the child clinging to her hand while tears rolled rapidly down her cheeks. “I do not want to leave

ff

CLARINDENE

The woman led her to one side, and talked to her in low caressing tones. Della dried her eyes, and made a brave little effort to smile.

“Be kind to her,” she entreated, again at the gentleman’s side, “and accept my deepest gratitude.”

“Her name is Della Dare.”

She drew the little one again to her bosom, kissed the sweet lips, and then glided out, and was gone.

And Della, awed and trembling, was alone with the sad faced master of Clarindene.

He gazed at his new charge a few seconds, drinking in the loveliness of her fair face; then touched a silver bell.

Aleck again appeared.

“Send the house-keeper to me,” he said with something like kindness in his tone.

The house-keeper was a sweet faced matronly woman who came in a moment later, and in silence awaited her master’s orders.

“Mrs. Belford,” said Raye Fraser, “this little girl is Della Dare who will reside with us hereafter. I wish her to be treated as my daughter. Give her a pleasant room, and attend to her wardrobe.” “This is all,” he ended, resuming his reading.

Taking Della by the hand, she quietly withdrew, and led her up the broad stair-case to a bright cheerful room whose large windows commanded a fine view of the long avenue of trees.

“You’re a pretty little girl,” the house-keeper declared, kissing her rosy cheek, after she had given her a refreshing bath, and brushed out her golden tresses.

“No more gloom in this house with you in it, child,” she laughed, turning her gently around.

Della smiled, and thought she was going to be quite happy here attended by such motherly kindness.

Night was coming on, and ere long the weary child was slumbering sweetly in a dean cosy bed ; and did not awake until the early sun was peeping in the closely drawn curtains of pink and white.

III. Charles Fraser

The day was destined to be clear and warm.

Della was awake an hour before Mrs. Belford came in to arrange her morning toilet. She was wondering the while if Aunt Matilda would miss her, and what poor Guido would do for a wild gallop thru the woods.

After completing Della’s toilet, Mrs. Belford informed her she was soon to have a maid and a governess. Ten minutes later the little fairy filled with new thoughts and fancies was skipping along over the beautiful green lawn.

So absorbed was she in examining the many blooming flowers, that she did not observe the tall manly figure approaching her.

He was a young man of twenty-one or two with a fair smooth face who stood regarding her with no small degree of surprise and wonder.

The glowing picture inspired him with the feeling of an artist. She was bending over a bright red rose that enhanced the beauty of her golden hair, and lily-white face.

“Who are you?” he queried.

The unexpected voice startled her.

Recovering herself she suddenly raised her head as tho ready for the encounter.

“Who are you?” she sharply demanded, a roguish light coming into her gray orbs.

The young man laughed outright, and removing his becoming hat from his shapely head, made a low obeisance:

“Charles Oliver Fraser, only nephew and heir of Raye Fraser of Clarindene at your service.”

“Now,” with a merry gleam in his steady gaze, “will you answer my inquiry, and tell me who you are, and why you are here ?”

“I shall not tell you everything,” was the decisive reply, allowing for a moment a little pout to mar the beauty of her red mouth.

“I am Della Dare, and this is my home, perhaps forever,” she added, with the air of a queen.

“Ah,” said he, again slightly bowing, “since we are to live under the same roof^ I trust we will always be friends.”

CHARLES FRASER

Della smiled, and not unwillingly placed her little palm in the extended hand of her companion. Charles held it for an instant and looked down into her lovely face with grave tender eyes.

The breakfast bell then sounded, and they started for the house together.

Raye Fraser had been watching their movements for some time, standing in the open doorway, a look of satisfaction on his once handsome face.

“I see you have introduced yourselves,” observed the uncle, pleasantly, more to his nephew than to Della as they came up to him smiling, hand in hand.

“I wish to explain,” resumed the uncle, *‘that this is a little protege of mine who will reside with us hereafter.”

Charles, his only nephew and heir, was spending his summer vacation at home.

In a year he would graduate from college, and then embrace the privilege and pleasure of an extended tour.

During the progress of the meal, Della was listening with rapt attention while Charles was relating some of his lively anecdotes of college life and customs.

The presence of Della at Clarindene was like rays of sunlight illumining the once dreary home.

The master soon began to regard her as his own. Her blonde face, her sprightly, graceful movements ever reminded him of a dearer vision whose fair image bore the same sweet name of Della.

The following week a governess was employed under whose instructions Della soon showed marked improvement in intellect and manner.

Her pretty wardrobe so becoming to a child of her years, and the possession of a maid, rendered her conscious of the fact that in the house of Raye Fraser she was an important personage.

Shortly after Charles had graduated, his uncle sent him on the anticipated pleasure trip.

He wrote quite frequently, filling each letter with spirited descriptions of people he had met, and scenes he had visited, — occasionally, inclosing one to Della, which missives were carefully read and preserved among her choicest treasures.

IV. The Visitors

Sitting Upon the edge of a rock that overlooked a picturesque view was a young girl, the age of sixteen or seventeen stamped upon her placid brow, her hands clasped about her knees, her head bare, her tresses a little loosened by the wind, and her clear, gray orbs fixed upon the distant landscape.

“Ah !” chimed a merry voice behind her, “here you are, and I have searched for you everywhere.”

“How you frightened me, Charles Fraser,” she exclaimed, springing up, and forcing a smile, her heart beating beyond control, and a deeper red dyeing her cheeks.

“I beg your pardon,” said Charles Fraser, breaking out into a gay laugh.

“Indeed, Della, I did not mean to frighten you. I only came to tell you, this is the day we expect our visitors. I thought probably you might have forgotten.”

“No,” she murmured, absently, “I have not forgotten, but have been wondering for hours what they are like, and would I admire them.”

The master of the house had announced at dinner a week ago, that his brother’s step-children, a son and a daughter from Hartford would make their appearance at Clarindene on this date for a visit of thirty days or more.

“Florence, they say, is quite a beauty,” Charles remarked, as Della and he were walking leisurely down the broad avenue of trees. “I have not seen her for several years,” he went on, “but I feel assured you will greatly admire her.”

A little shudder ran thru Della’s frame, and her face betrayed something of a possible jealousy that might exist in her heart during the visit of Florence Hayden.

“Herman,” he continued, “was my room-mate at college, and I often met him while abroad. We have become warm friends indeed. I hope you will like him, for my sake, Della, and treat him in your usual genial manner.” “But, Della,” he half entreated, slipping his hand tenderly into hers, “I should not wish him to engross your entire attention, for this would disturb the peace that now dwells in the heart of your friend.”

THE VISITORS

At these last words Della averted her eyes with something like dew in them.

They parted on the veranda and Della on reaching her room, found her maid in readiness to assist her in her evening toilet.

The sun had almost set before the inmates of the house caught the sound of rumbling wheels that heralded the approach of the expected visitors.

Raye Fraser and his nephew met them in the hall, and welcomed them most heartily.

“I had begun to fear you were not coming,** said the uncle.

“The train was two hours late,** returned Herman Hayden, a tall, handsome youth of twenty-three, whose eyes were dark and sparkling with intellect, while over his proud and lofty forehead fell a profusion of dark hair.

Raye Fraser led the way into the parlor, and introduced the young couple to Della, as his ward, who rose at once, and greeted them in her sweet cordial manner.

As her eyes rested upon Florence whose age was probably twenty years, a strange feeling of dread, she could not define came over her.

Miss Hayden*s figure was plump and developed, her eyes pale blue, and her hair chestnut with a fiery glow in its under tints. Her voice was not musical, but had in it a touch of harshness.

During the few seconds of silence that followed, the brother*s eyes were fixed immovable on the fresh beauty of Della*s child-like face.

The evening was spent in music and games, while conversation seemed somewhat constrained.

The next morning Raye Fraser ordered the house-keeper to show Florence about the house and grounds, as he and the young men were going fishing for a few hours. “I wish Della to accompany her, and make her visit as pleasant as possible,** he resumed on leaving the room.

Mrs. Belford bowed a hearty willingness, and taking the keys in hand, beckoned to the two girls who overheard his request.

Florence followed her closely, uttering exclamations of surprise and delight, as they passed thru the various rooms filled with costly furniture and pictures of rare loveliness.

“I believe Della can show you over the grounds better than I,” the house-keeper said, pleasantly, when they had completed the tour of the house.

Della then led the way out on the lawn, and pointed out the beauties of her favorite flowers that seemed to be constantly blooming afresh.

While they stood watching the silvery winding of the little brook that ran thru the western part of the grounds, Della noted for the first time how strikingly handsome was her companion in daylight, and felt conscious of a sort of sick pain creeping in her heart when she thought how attentive Charles was to her the first hour of her arrival.

“How long have you resided here?” asked Florence.

“Almost six years” was the ready reply, adding, “she never felt lonely at Clarindene.”

“I suppose not,” sneeringly, “since you have Charles Fraser for companion.”

Della shrank from the cold gleam of her eye.

“Yes,” said Della, her face growing a trifle pale, “my guardian’s nephew has been very kind.”

Florence flashed a sharp look at the speaker from under her auburn lashes.

Della fancied there was an angry rebuke, or warning in it, and making a brave effort to master her feelings, called her attention to the cunning . squirrel that had carefully seated itself in the recess of one of the tall trees.

But Florence, however, was not to be daunted so easily in her catechism, as the following inquiry may prove.

“Are you in any way related to Raye Fraser?”

“I can claim no relationship,” was the rueful response.

“Ah, I suppose you are an orphan, being his ward. Are you an heiress, or entirely dependent on the bounty of Raye Fraser?”

“You had better apply to Raye Fraser for any information you desire on the subject,” said Della in clear tones, while a rosy flush swept her agitated features.

“I believe it is time for my lessons,” she observed, without waiting for a reply, anxious to conclude the unpleasant conversation. “You will have to excuse me. Miss Hayden,” and turning, she walked rapidly away.

THE ACCIDENT 15

‘*One moment/’ called Florence, her blue eyes kindled with a taunting expression.

Della turned round as tho compelled from the tone of her harsh voice.

“Do you love Charles Fraser?” with a keen searching glance.

Della’s eyes fell under the piercing gaze, and white to the lips, made a mighty struggle to turn again and fly without answering a word.

Miss Hayden looked beyond the little stream into infinite space with a wicked light in her half shut eyes.

“The proud little protege,” she muttered between her teeth. “She had better not come between me and my plans of success.”

V. The Accident

Toward noon the fishing party had returned, each carrying a string of fish. So noiseless was their approach in the grass, that Florence did not hear their foot- falls.

Her brother softly advanced and held the result of his fishing close in front of her.

“How you frightened me, Herman Hayden!” she cried, pushing the game from her with sudden force.

A merry peal of laughter rose on the breeze, as she and her brother turned to join the other two.

“Where is Della?” asked Raye Fraser, a shade of annoyance crossing his countenance at the thought of her lack of courtesy in not entertaining his guest.

“She is under instruction,” answered Florence, indifferently.

“Ah,” said he and his countenance cleared.

They walked thru the familiar path that led to the front veranda, and Charles, stepping round to Florence’s side, engaged himself in pleasant conversation, while Herman succeeded in cheering his “uncle” with his boyish remarks.

When Della issued from the library, after her study hour, she felt timid about coming again into the presence of Florence who had already planted within her a strong sense of dread.

Gazing out of the sitting-room window, she discovered to her pleasure that the party of men had returned from their fishing excursion.

Seated upon the veranda that faced the beautiful lawn, they were evidently discussing some important and interesting subject, Florence forming the center of the group.

Her manner was so changed, her face so radiant, that Della half forgot her coldness of an hour ago, and partially overcame her feelings of dread.

She glanced at the marble clock on the carved mantle piece, and was pleased to note it was almost ready to chime the lunch hour.

Having joined the group a moment later, Herman, who was seated near the hall door, rose, and gallantly offered her his chair.

“Thank you,” said Della in her sweet girlish voice, her cheeks flushing a little deeper than usual, and her hands betraying a degree of nervousness, quite new to her, as she toyed with her dainty handkerchief.

Mistaking her manner as a token of the feeling held in court for him, the courteous one blushed a lovely shade of pink, while securing another chair, and seating himself by her side. Ever since his dark eyes rested on her face, so innocent, so fresh, so radiant, he thought her the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“The young people are discussing the question of further amusement, Della,” said Raye Fraser, looking at her with a tenderness befitting a father. “Can you not lend your /ready assistance ?”

But before Della could frame an answer, the lunch bell sounded.

“The question can be decided at the table,” suggested the master, as he rose from his chair, and led the way to the diningroom.

Lawn tennis and other games were mentioned for the afternoon pastime, but that of horse back riding seemed in the ascendant, and they finally decided on an animated gallop.

Toward the middle of the afternoon, Della was mounted upon Black Dick, a dark red riding habit encasing her rounded form, while Florence, having selected a riding robe of dark blue, sat upon a milk-white mare, her plumed hat placed jauntily on her auburn hair. Charles had chosen Katie, and Herman was satisfied with Fanny — two gallant steeds.

THE PRETTY NURSE

They stood at the arched gate ready for command, quivering with impatience, yet prancing in one spot under the control of the steady hands that held the reins.

The horse upon which Florence sat, shied at her carresses, and seemed to spurn the touch of her hand.

In a short time they were off in a wild race.

Katie and Fannie were fast gaining distance, as they galloped along a quarter of a mile ahead. They had already cleared the ditch near a bend in the road, and it seemed for a time that nothing could check their head-long speed.

Black Dick and the milk-white mare had almost reached the ditch when Florence noticed how charmingly beautiful Della looked with her red cheeks, and lovely eyes shining like stars in the merry excitement.

Growing passionately jealous at the thought of the friendship existing between Charles and that “proud little ward,” as she termed Della, she could not control the angry impulse rising in her heart; and tightening one hand about the reins, and grasping her riding-whip firmly with the other, it suddenly descended sharply on Black Dick’s flanks.

The startled animal plunged and reared so violently at the unusual touch of the lash, that he threw his mistress prostrate in the ditch, and dashed madly after the flying steeds.

VI. The Pretty Nurse

Della uttered a shriek of pain as she fell to the ground in a dead faint.

The next moment there was a sound of galloping hoofs and a young man sprang from his saddle, and bent over Della’s prostrate form.

“The little Queen of Clarindene as I live,” he exclaimed. “Her horse has thrown her. Poor girl !” and hurrying toward a small stream nearby, he filled his hat with water, and returning sprinkled the white face.

A low moan issued from Della’s lips, and a startled look sprang into her eyes as she met the compassionate gaze of a strange young man bending over her.

“Your horse has thrown you,” he kindly explained.

“Allow me to assist you to our home, which fortunately is only a few yards from here. You will be quite safe under the hospitality of my sister.”

He offered his arm to aid her to rise, but she fell back with a groan.

“Ah, permit me,” he said, tenderly, stooping down, and gathering the light form in his strong arms.

He then bore her off, his horse following, to a neat cottage, glimmering among the trees, and standing a short distance from the main road.

A pretty blonde girl came out to meet them, uttering expressions of pity and deep sympathy for the little unfortunate beauty.

While the brother hurried off for a physician, the sister began bathing Della’s pale face, and smoothing her disordered hair, making her as comfortable as possible.

The injured one expressed her gratitude thru the faint smile that spread her wan features, as her eyes met the tender gaze of those belonging to the sweet face bending over her.

The physician was not long in gaining the cottage, and pronounced both feet sprained, and one ankle bone out of place. After adjusting it, and leaving directions for her care with the sister, he took his departure, ordering her not to move for a few days. He undertook to stop on his way, and apprise Raye Fraser of the accident.

“I have often seen you at Clarindene, and wished to make your acquaintance,” said the gentle nurse, who was almost the age of Della, being something over eighteen.

“Thank you,” said Della, “but I do not remember ever seeing you.”

“My name is Rosalind Garner,” answering Della’s look of calm inquiry.

Rosalind was tastefully attired in pale pink, which was most becoming to her fair face.

The room in which Della lay was daintily upholstered in navy blue and gray which seemed to be the prevailing color thru out the cottage.

The brother and sister lived alone in this cottage with its beautiful lawns and gardens.

THE VISITORS SUMMONED HOME 19

Evening came and brought the household from Clarindene to see Della and express their sad regrets over her misfortune.

Florence, bending over, said to her in a low voice : “I am sorry I struck Dick. I did not think he would throw you. I hope you won’t tell any one about it.”

“Certainly not,” was the low response, with a nervous turn of her head.

It was some time before Della was able to return home.

Raye Fraser and his nephew had visited her a number of times, and expressed appreciation of the kind attention given Della, and warmly invited the inmates of the cottage to visit frequently at Clarindene.

VII. The Visitors Summoned Home

The guests had not taken their leave when Rosalind and her brother made their first appearance at the beautiful mansion after Della had returned.

For the afternoon’s pastime, lawn tennis was chosen, and during it’s progress the color rose in Rosalind’s cheeks, and her eyes drooped shyly whenever she encountered the ardent gaze of Herman Hayden.

Life and the world were changed to her the first moment she beheld him.

“Della,” said Herman to himself, as his dark eyes roved from one to the other, “is child-like in simplicity, and beautiful as a dream, but Rosalind is the star of my existence.” And he resolved to learn his fate before leaving for home.

Harry Garner’s admiration was centered upon Della. He could not forget he had carried her in his arms and h^r beautiful head had rested confidingly on his shoulder.

Two weeks later the guests were leaving Clarindene after a delightful stay of six weeks or more. Mrs. Hayden was becoming lonesome without her children and had summoned them home.

In the meantime Herman had learned his fate at the Cottage. Each day from the first he sought the shy glances and pink blushes of fair Rosalind. The day on which he was to leave Clarindene accompanied by his sister, he heard her declaration of love in response to his own, and won from her a promise to wed him before the beginning of another year.

When the time had come for the visitor’s departure, Charles shook the hand of his friend and college room-mate long and warmly, and expressed his deep regret at parting with his genial presence.