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The Strength of Love;

OR,

LOVE IS LORD OF ALL

BY

Mrs. ALEX. McVEIGH MILLER

AUTHOR OF

“When We Two Parted,” “Lady Gay’s Pride,” “Sworn to Silence,” “Eric Braddon’s Love,” and many other romances of American life published exclusively in the Eagle and New Eagle Series, each of which is of the most intense interest.

NEW YORK STREET & SMITH, Publishers 79-89 Seventh Avenue

Copyright, 1896 By George Munro’s Sons

The Strength of Love

Of the things which man can do or make here below, by far the most momentous, wonderful, and worthy, are the things we call Books.

—Carlyle.

All of which is very true. The most momentous, wonderful and worthy of all books are the S. & S. novels. Before their advent, students of literature were obliged to pay ten times their prices for books not nearly so good. The S. & S. book lines at ten and fifteen cents have been instrumental in placing before the reading public of America, first-class, full-size novels, by popular authors, at a price that even the most modest purse can afford.

The S. & S. novel performs a fine mission—it educates and entertains. Educates, by publishing hundreds of standard books by standard authors, and entertains by publishing clean, up-to-date stories of adventure, mystery and love.

Send for a complete catalogue. You will find it the most valuable index to current literature that ever fell into your hands. All of our books have tasteful, attractive colored covers, are printed from good clear type, and in every way are equal to the $1.50 kind, except that they are not bound between cloth covers.

10,000,000 Copies Sold

Mrs. Georgie Sheldon

is justly famous as a writer of American love stories of quality.

Her books are to be found in a million homes of the rich and poor alike, for this appeal to the heart knows no class—it’s universal.

Folks have said:—“I wonder what makes the Georgie Sheldon books so popular?” If you have never read any of her splendid novels, just select one at random. After reading it, you won’t ask any questions—you’ll know why ten million copies have been sold.

Send for catalogue of the S. & S. novels, arranged by author, which contains Mrs. Sheldon’s complete works. PRICE 15c. PER COPY.

Street & Smith, Publishers NEW YORK

[Pg 5]

CHAPTER I. RIVALS IN LOVE.

When Dallas Bain and Royall Sherwood, with the dashing young widow, Mrs. Fleming, drove down the village street in their fine landau that summer afternoon, Daisie Bell stood on the steps of her aunt’s cottage, plucking the purple wistaria blooms from the vines above her head, and the picture she made in her youth and grace stayed in both the men’s hearts till they died.

Just a slip of a girl—perhaps seventeen or eighteen—gowned very simply, in white, with lavender ribbons at throat and waist; but her figure was grace and symmetry itself; and her face—well, men have died for faces less fair than hers, with its dusk-violet eyes, blue in the light, black in the shade, under the fringed curtain of jetty lashes that contrasted so vividly with the living gold of her hair as it swept in loose waves over her shoulders.

[Pg 6]

Both the young men gazed at this charming vision in frank delight, and as the unknown beauty and the gay little widow exchanged formal bows, exclaimed simultaneously:

“Who is that beautiful girl?”

Mrs. Fleming frowned jealously, bit her red lips, and answered, with some asperity:

“What geese men are! Always caught by theatricals! Couldn’t you both see that the bold thing was just posing for your benefit?”

“How exceedingly kind of her, to be sure! We certainly enjoyed the tableau very much,” lisped Royall Sherwood, a rich young man of the genus dude, who was Mrs. Fleming’s cousin, and visiting her at her summer home in Maryland, having brought with him Dallas Bain, a new friend he had made on the return trip from Europe, a month ago.

“I don’t know a thing about him, except that he’s clever and handsome, and seems to have plenty of money; but I like him immensely, so I brought him here with me, and if you’re not pleased you can just ship us both when you get tired,” Royall said coolly to his cousin, who answered gayly:

[Pg 7]

“I’ll never get tired, I assure you; the dear boy is too charming.”

That was ten days ago, and as time went by she found him more charming than ever, though there was about him a careless insouciance, a cynical indifference to her wiles, that piqued her into deeper earnestness, so that by the end of the first week she was passionately in love, and using every feminine art to bring him to her feet.

And, never having loved before, despite several pronounced flirtations, she was desperately in earnest.

At only twenty-five, she was the widow of an old man whom she had married for his money when she was only nineteen years old. Three years later he obligingly died, and left her the mistress of half a million, which she was enjoying in royal fashion. A selfish, careless little beauty, she had never felt the great passion of life till she met Dallas Bain, whose large, dark, flashing eyes had pierced her heart in a moment with love’s keen arrow.

She set herself to win him without a thought of defeat, for she was very pretty in a doll-like fashion, petite, with turquoise-blue eyes, and[Pg 8] crinkly flaxen hair always in the most picturesque disorder. Not a fear of rivalry crossed her mind, for although she had several young girls as guests, she had been careful to invite only those who were plain-looking enough to serve as a foil to her own beauty. To Daisie Bell she had never given a thought till this moment, when, on their drive, the coachman had turned into Temple Street just to vary the route, and her visitors had seen the young girl in her wondrous beauty, that, once seen, could never be forgotten.

What a careless encounter it seemed, yet one fraught with fate!

“Couldn’t you both see that the bold thing was just posing for your benefit?” she exclaimed, in jealous alarm; and Royall had answered as above recorded, winking significantly at his friend; but Dallas said not a word, but gazed, with his heart in his eyes, at the beauty till she was out of sight.

Then he drew a long breath that was mingled delight and pain, and cried eagerly:

“But who is she, Mrs. Fleming?”

“Yes, who is she, and why haven’t we met her at your receptions, Lutie?” added Royall.

[Pg 9]

Tossing her head and curling a scornful lip, the lady returned maliciously:

“Oh, she isn’t in our set at all—only a poor relation of some people here; a teacher, or shop girl from New York, who comes here every summer to visit her kin and rest from work. And they’re all poor, as you can see from the back street and the five-roomed cottage.”

She thought that this explanation ought to settle the subject forever; but Royall persisted:

“Lutie, why don’t you tell us her name?”

“Well, then,” snappishly, “it is Daisie Bell.”

“Well, she is a daisy, and no mistake, and a belle, too—the rarest beauty I ever saw; and I’m bound to know her soon. I’m in love at first sight.”

His cousin frowned, and cried sharply:

“Royall, you shan’t turn that simple girl’s head with your flatteries.”

“I tell you, Lutie, I’m in dead earnest!”

“Nonsense!”

Dallas Bain said nothing, but his deep eyes gleamed with a subtle fire, and he resolved that he, too, would make the acquaintance of the lovely[Pg 10] girl whose single earnest glance had thrilled him so deeply that it seemed to him already that she must be his fate.

It was strange how much business the two young men had on Temple Street the next few days, either riding or walking, and always watching eagerly for another glimpse of the fair face that had charmed them so.

Once they saw her again on the porch, and twice at the upper window, and finally they met her coming out of her gate, apparently going for a morning call.

She blushed brightly at their admiring glances, and stepped briskly in front of them, walking along for about two blocks, setting them wild with her graceful carriage, like a young princess, then stopped and went into a house whose occupants they knew as acquaintances of Mrs. Fleming.

They nudged each other, and Royall exclaimed eagerly:

“Let us go in and call on that pretty little Miss Janowitz. Then she will introduce us to the beauty.”

But Dallas Bain hesitated, though his heart was following the girl inside.

[Pg 11]

He said tentatively:

“It does not look quite fair to force an acquaintance. Let us try for an introduction in a more proper way.”

“A fig for the proprieties! I’m bound to get up a flirtation with that beautiful creature,” vowed Royall recklessly, opening the gate and going in while nodding a gay farewell to his friend, who turned away with a jealous pang at his heart, though muttering to himself:

“If she would flirt with him, she is not worth my winning.”

Royall Sherwood was cordially welcomed by Miss Annette Janowitz, a charming little brunette, as brilliant and restless as a humming bird.

“I have seen you passing several times this week, and I wondered if you were looking for me,” she said gayly. “But let me introduce you to my friend, Miss Bell.”

They bowed to each other, Royall with empressement, Daisie with reserve; for, having seen him in the vicinity of her home so much lately, she rather suspected the conquest she had made, but resented this way of forcing an acquaintance.

[Pg 12]

“The impudence!” she thought resentfully, while Annette continued to chatter gayly, flashing her dangerous black eyes at him.

“I saw Mr. Bain leaving you at the gate. Why didn’t he come in, also?”

“Dallas Bain? Oh, I asked him to come in, but he refused, and went back to Sea View alone. Fact is, he has no eyes for any woman but my cousin, Lutie Fleming. Most absorbing flirtation I ever saw, really,” returned Royall, trying thus early to make a clever move in the game of love, and checkmate Dallas, whom he knew might prove a dangerous rival for Daisie’s heart.

Miss Bell was very quiet. She sat with downcast eyes, playing with a rose in her belt, the seashell glow coming and going on her cheeks with some secret excitement. Royall wondered if it were emotion at his presence or pique that Dallas had not cared for her society. He decided that it must be the latter, for she soon brought her call to an end without having spoken a dozen words to him, and he did not dare offer to walk home with her, as he longed to do.

He felt a jealous certainty that she was vexed at Dallas, and decided that it would take some[Pg 13] scheming to divert her thoughts from his handsome friend.

“But I’ll do it, for my heart’s gone, and I’m almost tempted to ask her to marry me already, even if she is poor and not in our set, as Lutie says. But, Jove! She’s the grandest beauty in the world! And wouldn’t she make a sensation as my bride, covered with diamonds! Yes, I’ll win her if I can, and I must manage to keep Dallas out of the running, for she could not help showing disappointment when I said that about his flirting with Lutie; but I’ll make her forget him directly, and all the better for her, too, since I’m the better match of the two,” cogitated Royall, who, though he knew that his effeminate blond beauty, so like his cousin’s, could not compare with the dark splendor of tall and striking Dallas Bain, still considered that his golden charms more than counterbalanced the difference.

“All is fair in love or war,” he said coolly; and, pursuant of his scheme to keep Dallas away from Daisie, he said to him that evening:

“Just as well that you didn’t go in to see Miss Bell to-day. She is disappointing, really. Pretty as a picture, of course, but so bread-and-butterish[Pg 14] and schoolgirly, you know. Always posing for effect, as my cousin said, but not much to her, after all, but simpers and giggles.”

Dallas felt a keen thrill of disappointment and disgust, for Daisie’s face had haunted him for many days, and it gave him a shock to think that she was like what Royall said—simpering and giggling like a silly schoolgirl. The young widow had treated him to enough of that, trying to pose as girlish, despite her three years of wifehood and two of widowhood, and he decided that he did not care to know Daisie now, since even the careless Royall was no longer interested.

[Pg 15]

CHAPTER II. THE OTHER ONE.

When Daisie Bell sat reading on the porch next day, a messenger brought her a basket of rare flowers and a note from Royall Sherwood, asking permission to call on her that evening.

She went in to her aunt, asking demurely what she ought to answer.

“Why, let him come, of course! Daisie Bell, you’re a lucky girl. This Royall Sherwood is a millionaire, they tell me, and your face is pretty enough to win him, or any other man.”

“Then I wish it had been the other man,” thought Daisie sadly, as she went to answer the note.

“The other man” meant Dallas Bain, whose dark, manly beauty and earnest glance into her eyes had made a deep impression on her heart.

His face was haunting her just as hers haunted him. It was a case of mutual attraction—of love at first sight.

Heaven had made these two for each other, but adverse forces were busy driving them apart.

[Pg 16]

Since Daisie had heard that Dallas was in love with the young widow, she tried to drive his handsome face from her thoughts, and since Dallas had been told that she was a simpering giggler he did not try to see her any more, and regretted that he had anonymously sent her a passionate love poem.

Yet he could not have helped being glad if he could have seen how she read and reread it in blushing solitude, with an unerring conviction that he had sent it—her hero of the brilliant dark eyes and winning smile.

But now, when told that he loved another, she cherished painful doubts.

“I must be mistaken, since he did not care to know me, and went past when Mr. Sherwood came in. Oh, why do I care? I do not even know him, unless our souls spoke to each other in our glances when he passed me by. And, of course, he is in love with that lovely little Lutie Fleming. Yet I hoped—and was vain enough to fancy—that he sent me these sweet verses,” half sobbed the girl, yet still reading them over with a thrill at her heart.

[Pg 17]

“Perhaps Mr. Sherwood sent the verses,” she sighed, in her sad disappointment; but on comparing them with his note she saw that the writing was distinctly different, leaving her still a little fluttering hope that Dallas Bain had indeed sent the poem, bitterly as she was piqued that he had not cared to make her acquaintance.

[Pg 18]

When Royall called that evening she looked her loveliest, gowned in her favorite white, and she made herself most charming, hoping, dear heart, that he would tell Dallas Bain that she was such a charming girl he really ought to make her acquaintance.

But nothing was farther from Royall’s thoughts. He was delighted to find that she was rarely gifted and intelligent, but he kept his knowledge closely to himself, never letting his friend know that he was pursuing his acquaintance with Daisie, though he contrived to see her every day in the week, and even took her to drive one afternoon when the coast was clear, Dallas having stayed in to write some important letters.

She was very kind and friendly with Royall, but he saw that she took a secret, eager interest in Dallas, listening eagerly when he talked of him, though he was careful never to say anything good, still hoping to turn her heart to himself.

In fact, he pretended to decry the engagement he assumed to be existing between Dallas and his pretty cousin.

“If I had guessed at anything like this, I’d never have brought him to Sea View—never!”[Pg 19] he said. “In fact, I told Lutie so to her face. I said: ‘I haven’t the least idea of his antecedents, and you ought not to encourage him unless he explains everything.’ But she was so infatuated with the fellow she wouldn’t even let me hint such a thing to him, and he’s as reticent over himself as if he were an escaped convict—which he may be, for all we know,” argued Royall.

Daisie suppressed a sigh, and asked carelessly:

“But doesn’t he seem very nice? Isn’t he well educated, and—and—doesn’t he write a fine hand?”

Royall fell into her little trap, and answered:

“Oh, his manner is charming; that’s what made me take up with him first, you know—so frank and friendly; and he seems to be college bred. As for his writing—see,” and he exhibited to the trembling girl some random papers from his notebook, scribbled over with his friend’s name and some poetical quotations.

He did not notice that Daisie trembled, that the color rushed to her cheek and the light to her eyes, from pure joy.

The writing was identical with the poem. Her heart told her the truth. Dallas Bain had written[Pg 20] her those sweet verses. He loved her, after all.

“I see how it is,” she thought, with keenest pain. “When he first saw me, his heart went out to me, as did mine to him, in the thrilling glance we exchanged. But he was already pledged to another, and could not retreat in honor; so he dared not trust himself to know me better. That was why the verses breathed such hopeless sadness.”

There was balm in the thought, for his avoidance had wounded her cruelly until she thought she had fathomed the cause.