Chapter XVIII: It's an ILL Wind

Billie and Elinor strolled together that evening along the palm-bordered walk of the hotel.

They had grave matters to discuss and they had slipped away from their friends to be alone. Percy and Nancy waited eagerly on the piazza for the first strains of the orchestra, which meant that dancing would begin, and Mary and Charlie lingered on a bench talking of West Haven.

"It is a queer business, Elinor," Billie was saying. "I do wish he had written."

"He might have sent either you or Edward just a line," exclaimed the other. "How can he think Edward is going to masquerade like this much longer? He is really working quite hard for a boy who has never done anything much in his life."

"It will do him good," insisted Billie. "He's twice as manly as he was when we first met him."

"But what is going to happen now? Is he to wait until Edward l'Estrange comes back?"

"He promised to."

"But he didn't expect him to go beyond St. Augustine, and he's gone to New York."

"The family is here. Edward Paxton could let them know who he is at any moment if he doesn't trust the other Edward. Why doesn't he?"

Elinor was silent.

"He's afraid, Billie, I think," she said presently.

"That's just it," cried Billie. "He's always afraid, afraid, afraid."

"It's certainly queer, all of it," answered Elinor, when a figure which had been standing behind a clump of palms stepped into the path.

It was Clarence Paxton, and so little did Billie trust this treacherous cousin of her friends, that she gladly joined Timothy Peppercorn who had come running down the walk to find her.

"They are playing the barn dance, Billie," cried the red-headed youth, eagerly. "We had such a jim-dandy barn dance together at the Duffy's, I thought we might try it again to-night."

"'Barkis is willin'," answered Billie, and away they ran like two frisky young colts.

"I don't know any of the native dances, Miss Butler," said Clarence, who was much more English than his cousins, "or I would ask you to try this--er--jig----"

"Barn dance," prompted Elinor, who also had no liking for Edward's cousin.

"Will you go for a little stroll?"

"I will go as far as the hedge. Miss Campbell does not allow us to go out of sight of the hotel in the evening."

Clarence thrust his hands in his pockets and walked beside her. He had very grown-up airs, although she had heard from his cousins that he was only seventeen.

"Perhaps you think our meeting just now was accidental," he went on.

"I hadn't thought of it at all," replied Elinor.

"Please don't be unkind to me, Miss Butler. It was because I was in trouble that I wanted to speak to you. I knew you would listen to me when perhaps the other girls wouldn't. You were especially fond of him----"

"Fond of whom?" she interrupted.

"Why, of Edward, my cousin. Although we did quarrel a good deal, Miss Butler, I loved him like a brother. That's why I'm so unhappy now."

"Do get to the point," she answered impatiently. "Has anything happened to your cousin?"

"Yes."

"Can't you tell me what it is? Is he ill or hurt, or anything?"

"No, no; not that. Something much worse."

"But what?"

"My grandmother has disowned him; cast him off."

"Oh! Are you quite sure?"

"Perfectly. I was present when it happened."

For the first time since he had joined her, Elinor began to notice that Clarence, far from being dejected and cast down, was in such high spirits he could hardly conceal his joy. His eyes had a new light in them. There was an unusual color in his cheeks, and he smiled continually as he flicked the foliage with a light little cane and walked with an elastic step as if he were going down the middle in a quadrille.

"Yes," he went on joyfully, "I was in the room. So was Georgiana. And we both saw the whole thing."

"But what brought it about? Had Edward done anything so terrible as to be punished like that?"

"Oh, he's been going off ever since we came to this place. He's been rebellious and bad tempered--and--and--" here Clarence smiled reminiscently, "I've had some trouble with him myself. Finally, in St. Augustine, Grandmamma and he had an out and out quarrel over nothing apparently, but they worked it up between them until it came near being a pitched battle. They really seemed to enjoy it, the two of them. It was like a game of battledore and shuttlecock. I didn't know Edward had it in him. But Grandmamma, she's a Tartar when she's scratched, and anybody within range of that stick of hers had better look alive. She started to strike him with it, and he caught it and broke it into two pieces and threw it on the floor. Then she turned on him so calmly and quietly Georgiana and I thought she wasn't angry but we changed our minds. 'This changes every prospect you ever had,' she said. 'Leave me and from this day your future, as far as I am concerned, is altered.'"

"Good heavens," exclaimed Elinor, her thoughts turning to the real Edward Paxton, who was at that moment lying on his back under the Comet, cleaning the machinery. "But don't you think it can be patched up? He's only a boy. Surely, she will take him back."

"I'm afraid not," answered Clarence, smiling with secret pleasure. "I doubt it very much. Georgiana has been on her knees to Grandmamma, but the old General only says, 'Don't let me hear you speak that name again.'"

"And what have you done for him? Anything?"

Clarence shrugged his shoulders.

"If Georgiana could do nothing, you don't suppose I could?"

"But think of his being in a strange country without any money or friends? Couldn't you let him have some of your allowance until he gets a start?"

"Hardly. My allowance is not sufficient for my own wants."

Here was a state of things, indeed. Elinor began to wonder how Edward Paxton could ever induce his grandmother to forgive the trick he had played on her. Would she ever listen to him? Would she even see him, no matter how many proofs he could give her that he was the real Edward Paxton? And where, oh where, was Edward l'Estrange?

"Then you will be your grandmother's heir," she said presently, breaking the silence which had fallen between them.

"Oh, Georgiana will have a little, I suppose," he replied carelessly. "But I shall have the bulk, of course. You see Grandmamma's second husband, Mr. Steele, who left most of the money, had no heirs."

"What will you do with all those thousands, or millions, is it?"

"A million and a half. Oh, I shall live in a yacht a great deal. I shall have a shooting box in Scotland and a town house in London. I don't care for Grandmamma's London house. It's old and dingy and rather cramped. I shall get rid of it at any price. I shall have a villa on the Riviera, probably at Monte Carlo, and that reminds me, Miss Butler," he broke off suddenly, looking at his watch, "you will pardon me if I leave you, will you not? I am due at the Casino at twenty past eight. Good evening."

Lifting his straw hat with the affected air of a Piccadilly dandy, he tripped down the walk out of sight.

Elinor laughed out loud as she watched him stepping off, flicking the palm leaves with his rattan cane.

"And that is going to get the money!" she ejaculated. "What a shame. I'm sure Edward Paxton has more in him than his ridiculous cousin, who has already commenced to gamble at the Casino on prospects. If Edward could only prove to his grandmother that there is something to him!"

The young people had finished the barn dance and were resting on the broad piazza overlooking the lake, when Elinor found them.

"Do you suppose we could find Edward Paxton?" she whispered to Billie. "I have a piece of very bad news for him. I will tell you about it if we can get away."

Billie knit her brows.

"Is it about the other Edward?" she asked.

"It certainly is. He's been and gone and done it!"

"Done what?"

"Got disinherited and packed off by Mrs. Paxton-Steele, and if you can explain why he didn't pack himself back home, you must know a great deal more about him than the rest of us."

"I can't explain it, Elinor," replied Billie. "I can't even try. But I still believe he's honest and I'd rather wait a little longer before I pass judgment. There may be some explanation."

Elinor could not but admire her friend's loyalty, which was one of the strongest characteristics in her fine nature.

"What a trump you are, Billie," she said. "You are the truest friend in the world."

"The chauffeur wishes to speak to one of the ladies," announced a bellboy. "He is at the side entrance."

"Elinor and I will go, Cousin Helen," said Billie, promptly seizing the opportunity which had come so quickly.

Edward was waiting for them in a passage leading to one of the side exits. He was in his chauffeur's suit and was singing to himself as they approached the song he had dedicated to Elinor: "On thy fair bosom, silver lake."

"I came for orders for to-morrow," he announced cheerfully. "I have a good many engagements, and I was afraid I would be filled up if I didn't see you this evening."

"Engagements for what?" demanded Elinor.

"To make money," he answered gaily. "I made six dollars to-day and I expect to earn almost twice that much to-morrow. At this rate, I'll be earning a real salary, soon."

"Good," cried Billie, clapping her hands.

"And you are really beginning to like the work, then?" asked Elinor.

"Well, rather. I find machinery almost as interesting as the piano. The climate of this place agrees with me, too. I don't have those attacks of indigestion any more. My eyes are lots stronger and I sleep seven hours a night and eat everything in sight. But what are your plans for to-morrow? There is a man waiting to see me, now."

"We are going to the Duffy's in the Firefly at four o'clock for a tea."

The two girls hadn't the heart to tell him the unwelcome news that night.