r
>.
^%%.
«■■ï , '>
■ i
IMAGE EVALUATION
TESt TARGET (MT-S)
^
r
1.0
128
lâ£
lgâ
l.l
. 12.2
iRhI
2.0
L8
■
1:25 |,U
111^
-V.
^ '"
:V
— - ^
w
\
^
-^ -T-
•A
Sdences
(^rporation
23 WiST MAIN STREET
' WEBSTEt.N.Y. 14580
(716) «72-4503
^
\
<^
^:%\
"^
1
m
(
•
r
Can
^^^
CIHM
Microfiche
Séries
(Monographs)
ICiMH
Collection de
microfiches
(monographies)r
Canadian Institute for Historical Microraproductiont / Institut canadien da microraproductions historiques
Ttchnical afid Bibliographie Notn / Notas tachniquas et bibliographiquat
The Inttitute has att^pted to obtain the bast original
copy available for f i|hiing. Faaturas of thii eopy which
may be bibliographj^lly unique, which may altar any
of the intaget in tl^ reproduction, or which may
significantly change the usual method of filming. are
checked below. f
;
D
Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur
j I Covers damaged/
Couverture enddmmagée
•□
Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaurée et/ou palliculéa
dî:
Cover title missing/
titre de couverture manque
□ Coloured maps/
Cà
D
n
D
n
n
n
Cartes géographiques en couleur
Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)
%
Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur
Bound with other matériel/
Relié avec d'autres documents
Tight bindijng may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/
La reliure serrée peut causer fie l'ombre ou de la
distorsion le long de la marge intérieure
Blank leaves added during restoration may appaar
within the text. Whehever possible, thèse hâve
been omitted from filming/
Il se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutées
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela était possible, ces pages n'ont
pas été filmées.
Additional comments:/
Commentaires supplémentaires:
This item is f ilmad at the réduction ratio checked below/
Ce document est filmé au taux de réduction indiqué ci-dessous.
L'Institut a microfilmé le meilleur exemplaire qu'il •
lui a été ponible de se procurer. Les détails de cet
exemplaire qui sont peut-être uniques du point de vue
bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image
reproduite, ùu qui peuvent exiger une modification
dans la méthode normale de filmage sont indiqués
ci-dessous.
□ Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur
□ Pages damaged/ 7
Pages endommagées ^i».
□ Pages restored and/or laminated/
Pages restaurées et/ou pelliculées
Pages discoloured. stained or foxed/
Pages décolorées, tachetées ou piquées
□ Pages detached/
Pages détachées
I
0Showthrough/
Transparence i y
Quality of print varies/
Qualité inégale de l'impression
Continuous pagination/
Pagination continue
Includes index(es)/
Comprend un (des) index
Title on header taken from: /
Le titre de l'en-téteprovient:
}6
n
n
/ ,
j I Title page of issue/
Page de titre de la livraison
I I Caption of issue/
n
Titre de départ de la livraison
Masthead/
Générique (périodiques) de la livraison
%
¥'-^
tt:^
^zex-
"30*^
.t-
1
J
12X
16X
20X
/
24 X
28 X
32 X
m
«M
The copy filmed hère has been reproduced thânks
to the generosity.of: i ^
. ■■ \' *
National Ubrary of Canada
V
The images -appeâring hère are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keepinç with the
filming contract spécifications.
Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres<
sion. or the back cover when appropriate. AH ^:
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.
The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol — ^(meaning "CON-
TINUED"). or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
w^ichever applies.
Maps, plates, charte, etc.. may be filmed at
différent réduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the-upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom. as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:
L'exemplaire filmé fut reproduit grflce à la
générosité de: / .
Bibliothèque nationale du Canada
Les images suivantes ont été reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la jiétteté de l'exemplaire filmé, ^x en
confc(rf1fiité avec les conditions du contrat de
fili|»égë. % ■ ' .-
J,ÎBS%}i«mplaires originaux dont la couverture en
|>apier esfimprimée sont filmés en commençant-
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la /
dernière page qui comporta une empreinte /
d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second
plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
originaux sont filmés en commençant jiar la
première page qui comporte une empi(einte^
d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminent^ par
la dernière page qui comporte une telle
empreinte. ^
Un des symboles suivants apparaîtra sur la
dernière image de chaque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbole -♦► signifie "A SUIVRE ". le
symbole V signifie "FIN".
Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent être
filmés à des taux de réduction différents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour être
reproduit en un seul cliché, il est filmé à partir
de l'angle supérieur gauche, de gauche à droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images nécessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la méthode.
. ',■ ■!*■ »
_.^.
%
1
\ i
■»
3
i
}
1
D
32 X
N^
SM*
p*.
,1- il
P0PT7LAR NOTELS.
By ICay Agnes Flenûng.
l.-GlTY BABLSOOXTBT'S WIF&
S.^-A WONDSRFUL WOMAN.
8.— À TEBBIBLB BBOEET.
4.— NOÎtlNITS BEVENOB.
^— A lOD MABBIAGB. '
6.— ONB NIOETS inrSTEBT.
7.— KATB DANTON.
8.— SILBNT AND TEUR (New.)
m
.1
, '«
* Xn. Flamlnc*! itoriM «n grawlnir mon and inai» popk
lar «*«t7 daj. Tbeir ddinaraona ol oh
ndy T«ô^ KcnM, moA dtqpqr t
twwillng plôta, oombliM to '
tiMir rattiar fat tlie vHy
flnttankoC XMUra
Hof<dhti."
An pobJfMd anltonB wHh lltfa Tolnma.
•ndnnt/hMbyauaofiiceiiptoC pelais bT
O. W. OABI.BTON * OO., VvUUken,
^v^ - Vil ,.■
^ A
"i M.
■J\,
^.
A
MAD MARRIÀGE. •
, S ^obtL
sr
MAY AGNES FLEMING.
aVihok ov
"GUY KiULSCOURT'S WIFE," «A WONDERFUL WOICAN,"
.. *'a terrible secret," *<norine's * ^
"reveno^," eix:.
*Smk » mmd marriag*
> »
TuubgortiteShrair*
X
HBW TOBKt I
g. nr. Carieton 6? Co., PttèSiJ^,,
LOMDON: S. LOW, SON ft 00..
MOOOCLXXVni.
1^'.
■■^
* f :
- V il i
'4-
.•■*." i'^^W
<i\
/.'
CaMRd acGonfiag to Act of (Wi«m, ia Am imx 187& by
G. W. CARLETON & CO.,
b tbc Ofl&oe of the^ifanriaa d^ CongreM, mt Wathingtoo.
\
( ■ \
Iflov.
PnMTING AMD BoOIckiNDIMG CO.»
nuimné,
ao5-ai3 Rtui xnk St.,
m-
) .... *r..
■3;
%* ' 'î*
I
CONTENTS.
■ » .
CBArm
■ J— Jo«Keniiedy',Story-«TheHouKth«t Wouldn'tUt" '^'î
IL— A Woman with a Secret a
III.— The Decree of Divorce. .........* *.' " " * "
IV.— A Strange Endin^i *" ' '^
V.— At CaryUynae. . . . .......... . . ^'
VI.— Gordon CaryU's Story. ^*
^ll.—tloyr Lord Viscount Dynely Died. .'.*.*.*..'.'.".' ^**
1
^>1
PART II.
-:ot-
- I.— In tlie Royal Academr.
Il— Terry ^
79
III.— Madame Feui.... ' * **
IV.-Iady Dynd/s Thundiiy.*.*.*.".*.*.*.*'** '°**
V.— LowTookUptliëGlaasofTii^ î°ï
VI.— MTheLonioftbeLand'» '
Vll.-f Week'sReprie»*.... '" • '^
VIIL-'^WhafaShe?" '^
DC-Tening Tetry. . .... \ ' ' ''"'''• ""'^' A[
~7X.— TBffil^ ït Oui •-^^-^-^ .nr„^.^^«*-
XI.— At tbe paie 1" ''*
^^ • î'v' i8i
^|l^A.^■^^ ",iv \. .^•..., .>
«^
g ^ CONTE J^TS.
'v
' PAG*
CRArm
XII.—" They Shall Take Who Hâve the Power " 190
XIIL— lightly Won, Lightly Lôst 200
XIV.—" Once More the Gâte Behind Me Falls " «M
2[v — " Stay " i • *^
XVL— "Gordon CaryU "...,. «30
XVII.— Through the Sunset. .1 r.'.J. «37
XVIII.— Killing the Fatted Calf ^....d..* 246
XIX.— How the Old Year Ended .J.*! ....... 203
.LSX-'
PART III.
mr%m '.
«
I.— How the New Year B^an *73
II.—" La Belle Dame Sans Merci" *9*
m.— In the Streets...'. • • 307
. IV.— Donny 3»7
V.— What Love" s Yoong Dream Sometimes Cornes to 325
VI.— At theVarieties 335
,VII.*-"AfterManyDays".. 34»
VIII.— AMoming CaU 357
IX.—" The Parting that They Had" - 3o7
X.— "IfanyCalm, aCahn Despaîr " 375
XI.— M. LePrince 3^5
XII.— At the Bal d'Opéra.. '• 393
XIIL— After the BalL • 4^
XIV.— Ches Madame 4»
XV.— "How the NightFètt "..... 4»»
XVL—" Loyal aa Mort " 4^
XVIL— How the Momirg Broke 43»
XVIIL— WhileitaM VctDay.«..w....... • 4 4»
XIX.— "PostTcnebne, Lax" ..T.,. «45^
' «"iC
g'- <»^.W « t*www'W Tj!a-Ta^ ^W F ^ '' w^ '' wwMwiM**wf*u i i iwp pi^
'r;»r
'r •*»■"
/-'
A MAD MARRIAGE.
A »
1:
CHAPTER I.
Québec ; vou Z»^ ,l?™ î c"'î^' I^^Mliified town o(
mile on, TOtt came nnonf^!™ ? ?P«n. couatry, and, a
clear. " »«. But «lUl wAj, it wouidn'l let wû not so
yo" inigh t hâ ve n«.H>' lg'" TT"?^ '" ■g-c u h aial tuni,
w^^arewoodT.^''^ 2^^^^%^
m
•t*--..
••
■f ~ .
'■•' »
. '•'
W^
, ■■•■■^'.r^:>F'-^
i
-
; ■ ■
lO
yOAJ^ KENNEDY' s STORY.
ventùrous sportsman took up his abode at Saltmarsh. Il
wasn't even haunted ; it looked rather like that sort of tliing,
but nobody ever went exactly so far as to affirm that it was.
No ghastly corpse-lights ever glimmered from those duU
upper Windows, no piercingshrieks ever rent the midnight
«lenoe, no spectre lady, whitp and tall,.ever flitted through
the desolate roonis of Saltmarsh. No luurder had ever
been done there ; no legend of any kind was connected with
the place, its history was prosy and commonplace to a de-
gtee. Yet still, year in, year out, the inscription remained
up over the dingy wooden gateway, this house to be let ;
and no tenant ever came.
" Tom Griinshaw must hâve been mad when he built the
beastly old barn," the présent proprietor would growï ;
" what with taxes, and repairs, and insurance, there it stands,
eating its own head oflF, and there it may stand, for what I
see, to the crack of doom. One would think the very trees
that surround it say, in their warning dreariness, as the seu'
tinels of Helheim used in Northern mythology :
^* * Who passes hère is damned.' " ' •
If this strong language rouses your curiosity, and you
asked the proprietor the history of the house, yoû got it
terse and liicid, thus : *
"Old Tom Grimshaw built it, sir. Old Tom Grimshaw
was my matemak uncle, rest his soûl ; it is to be hopêd he
has more sensé in the other world than he ever had in this.
H,e was a misofl^rnist, sir, of the rabidest sort, hating a petti-
çoat as you and I hâte the devil. Don't know what infernal
mischief the wotàen'had ever done him — plenty, no^oubt ; it
is what they were created for. The fact remains-^lhe sight
of one had mucJi the same çffect upon him as a red scarf on
a roàd buU. lie bought this marshy spot for a song, built
that disgustingly ugly house^ barricaded Himself with that
timber wall, and lived and died there, like Diogenes, or
Robinson Cruspe, or any other cAà bloke you like. As heir-
at-law, the old; rattle-trap fell to me, and a precious legacy
It has beén, I çàn tell you. It wofii rent, and it has to be
kept in rep^if, and I wish to Heaven old Tom Grimshaw
h f » (1 t ffj f«^h jt .wi t hJhi lii » ,yh )er^vcr-hc j g li L~=. =l__,___,^ l_li,„
A 'j'^'AVî '»'" î'.-r. .' -.^k^'
^..srXM^'^
*• ; ^ V 1 *■
-r*^.
y04N ,KBNNEDY^S STOJtV.
w
That was tjie history of Saltmarsh p«, -• u*
leas to be let, and hadn't léTwfT'* .*^°'; «'«^t y«art it
bcgan and ended ^ ^""^ *** " where Ae mattei
Gray, lonely, weather-beaten, so I had Éf>r>n m,- r i
house any time thèse twenty ye^- so tW.ïu? -^ /°*^^'?
• I am to Write I saw it a^ain »!h? »i. ^ evenmg of which
désolation hVoSZ ove^K^M "^ "y«**^"?"» sHadow o|
chTldhood it KhaHs JicLrion fi^"' ^'^«^f^^e. From
Bluebeard's castle mv drSS m„ S r ""uT^^." ''^^ "^«^ "'k
this fascinati^ horS^ t^^Z t^'' .^ ^ f^^ °»<J^*
and^wenty it H^eld .e wISL-^arpSl ^^ft Sld^o^^^
suîset, slantingdown the? J.. V^u^^ ""^ ^*^^* ^^^^'^ful
neis^^rek^p^r^rw^^ry^^^^ •»
and snowwàsfafrW. î h^llfelH V^^^' f ^^f ^« »'^'^'
high road to tmvel fnd nSl? ^^u *A"' ^ °^ lonesome
Sakarsh, th« htd^veff& fo t^ '^"^ '\'^^' *>'
a«ain. I ,tood still and loSàt it It tSf^f/' '''^^. "^"
one be the ^sftr wTaïl Ltl'i^îl^-^^^^ ''?"«' »"d no '
home again, I winder ? " ^ "^° ^^^'^ ^'^^^ «^ Saltmarsh
'*This house is to let ?" ,,
/
"-lbegyoifr^«fdon;I hâve startled y<W,. V^^
.ir
'■ft0\
^1
^^^^i'%i..-->.t%'% ^.% 4<**'*-^^'
Vir-
, ..-,- ^,, y.,-.-.;j^t, ■"■^y-.-i;^
«.
■rtj-;.
12
yOAN KENNEDY' S SrhRY,
I hâve been hère foc some titne loioking at this hoiise. I see
itis to let."
I stepped back and looked àt her,^too much surprïsed for
a moment to speak. To. meet a siranger at Saltmdrsh, in
the twilight of a bitter February iday, was a marvel indeed.
f .1 stood and looked at her ; and I thought tben, as I tyiùk
now, as I vi^ill think to the last day of my life, that I saw one
ofthe moalj beautiful faces on which the sun ever shorie, j
_M I hâve sàid she was a Woman — a*girl would hâve been the •
mter word^ whatever her âge might hâve been, she did nqt
look a daj» over sevpnteen. She was not tall, and she was
very slender j that mzy hkve given her that peculiatly childish
look' — I am a tall young woman, and she would. not hâve '
reached ray shouldeV. A dress of black silk trailed the
ground, a ^ort jacket of iinest ^al wrapped her, a muff of
seal held her hands. A hood of black, velvet was on her
héad, and out of this rrçh hood her richer beauty shone upon
me, a new révélation of how lovely it is possible for a wonian
to be. Yearà hâve corne and gone since that evening, but
the wpnderful face that looked at me that February twrlight,
for the first time, is before me at this moment, as vividly as
, 'then. Two grcat, tawny eyes, with a certain wildness in
their light, a skin.of pearl, a red rnouth like a çhild's, a lon^
forehead, a stfaight nose, a cleft çhin, the gleam of small,
white teeth, rise before me like a vision, and I understand
how hien, from the days of Sarason the Strong, hâve lain^
^owh life and horior, and their soul's salvation, for jûst such
won^en as. this. ^urely a strange visitant tQ the house that
wouldn't let, and in the last HoUr of the day.
AU this in a moment of time, while we stand and face
(»ch other. Then the soft voice Speaks again, with a touch
of impatient annoyance in its tone:
" I beg you'r pardon. You heard me ? This hovse is to
/let?'\ ..
I point t<> the sign^ to the legend and inscriptiori- affixed
to the gâte, and read ifstoically aloud : <*This house to
be let." *
" Evidently my ladv is nqt used tb l>eing kept waitiylîg^" I
-riiink, ** wfaorôei- she 18." — ^— — — — ^ — — ^^^ ^
/
7t>^iV kENNBDY^S STORY.
13
" Yes, yes, f see that," she says, still impatieotly ; " there *
M no one liviDg-in ft al pi<esent, is there ?" ' " ,
\ -".AÏadaW," I say, briefly, "«© one has Uved there foi
eight years." ^^ ,
The wondeiful tawny black ey(*8,:almost orange in some
lights, and jyhose lilçe I hâve never seen but in on^^jather
face, dilate a httle as they turn from me to the dead. '
silent house.
"Wliy?" sheasks. , r .
I shrugged ray shoulders. \ ^,
" Nee4 one ask that question, madame, after looking at " *
the house ? Who would care to live in soionely, so lost a%,
place as that?" ~ \.j r,
" / wpuld. No one '^rould êver think of coming here.*^ *^
She made the jinswer alniost linder her breath, more tp l
herself than to me, her pale face turn^ toward the house. "
.^ts pafllor struck me now, not tjie pallor of ilî health, or of
natural complexion, but such filèd yhitenes», as some ex-
traordmary terror may once io a lifetime blanch a h^man face.
" No one would çver .think of côming hère," I repeated,
mwardly. " I^ould think not indeed. Are you in hiding
then, my beautiful young lady, and afraid of being found'
out ? You are lovelier than anything out of a: frame. You
are one of the rich and elect bf the earth, or you would not
be dressed like that, but who are you, and what are you do-"^ •
mg Rère alone and at this hour?"
'fjejast red light of the sunset had entirely faded away^
Cold, g%, and overcast the yintry sky spfead«bove us like
a pall, and over Cape Diamond^ with its citadel crown,
Bwept the icy wind from the fr6«éH St Lawrence. One or
two white flakes came siftîngdown from the fast drifting sky '
— nigbt and storm were fallingtogether,,and it was still half
a mile to my home. t ,
" If you désire àny infop^ation abont this place, madame,'^ *
I said. /' you had better apply to Mr. Barteahx,«No.x- Stj .
j u Sf5««^' Québec; he is the présent owner. It is to let, ■
Wd hf ^^ ^^""^ ^lad of a tenant. Good-evening."
-^°ig?^\ "P Jefe jhftdH JiQt cveii'segm ta have \^y u
wie st<K)d. her hands in her muff, her eyesr fixed w^jùi
4
.*-««,..._
I^^t^^^^i^i»^-^' ^,- ..\ J \. >S^ t^l^XH ti^^l^ii^^ ,
'U
'%
>
i-»Mv>
14
yOAA KENNEDY" s S TORY.
:i(
strangely |s(6mbre intensity on , tjie blank wooden wall, hei
^ profile gleaming cold and white in the steely twilight I
ïcnow littk^ of passion or despair, but surely it was niost pas-
siônate despair I réad in those iixed, sightfess eyes.
I turned and left Her. L,was interested of course, but it
would not do, to stand niooning hère and let nigbt overtake
me. Once, as I hurried along the deserted road, I looked
back. The small lonely figure Still stood as I had left it,
/ motionless, a black speck ag»inst the chili darkness of the
' ^intrv sky. \
" &)inething wrong there," I thought '; " I wonder who she
is and what bas bfdught her hère. None of the officers'
wives or daughters^ — I bave seen ail of them at the major's.
One thing is certain, Mr. Barteaux will never rent Saltmarsh
"to a slip of a girl Hke that." -
And then the inysterious young lady and ail connected
with her slipped froni my niind, for the red light from niy
mother's cottage streamed far afield, and thé ill tidings I was
bringing home filled my whole thoughts.
In this strangé record which it becomes my duty to write,
a few words of myself must be said, and mày as well be said
hère and done with. I was Joan Kennedy then, and am
Joan Kennedy still. . 1 was sevén-and-twenty years of âge,
and the sole support of a feeble old mother and a sister of
twelye. My mother who had been agoverness inheryouth,
and in her native city of (Glasgow, had educated me consid-
erably above the station I filled, giving me a very thorough
English éducation, and teaching me to speak French with a
fine Scottish accent. At my father's death, ten years before,
I went Qut to service, and in service I had remained ever
* since. This night, as I hastened homeward through the
snowy darkness, my errand was to tell my mother and sister
that I had lost ray place, and had no présent prospect of
being able to ^et another. That isjoan Kennedy's wholç
. pàst and paesent lifetory, so far e&you need know it.
' . The dafkniess was ail white with whirling snow as I opene^J
Wie cottage dbOF and entered. AU was bright, and cosy hère
*A large red fire bviri)ed on the h earth, the'tca tab le wa«
read; a iJwle TOUD-noied^lê^tw^êcT ifs îàcéâse^àlôf^
'^
1 -t^é^' . 4
yOAN KiNNEDY^S STORY.
and aloft, my mother sat knitting in the ingle nook, and mv
pretty sister Jess.e sang, as she stitched away, TCt^l ^
At sight of the.r snow-powdered visiter both^dropped theS
work m amaze. "ff^" «."cir
dr;%a;P"'^^ ""^ ti.„eof nfghtW a& T/y'^
«Who is likely to be withme, little Jess? Yes, I am
alone ; and you are likely to hâve more of my delêctabS
Mother dear, I hâve lost ôiy place."
"Joan!" /F v-c.
"I am not to blarae, mother, believé that Only (it is
not a pleasant thing to tell) Mrs. Englehart has tàken itSnto
Aat supremely foohsh head of hers to be jealous of me^f
poor plam Joan Kennedy! The major a kind old sJ.
has spoken a fnendly word or two in passing and-behold
Ae resuit! Don't let us talk about it. 1^1 start out °o
morrow mornmg and search ail Québec, and get a situation
Ukracup'ofîel"^"^™''^- And now. Mistrfss Jessie,'rlî
«hnniîl'tf'^ ^^^ ""^ '^f '^^ *"^ ''^""e*' îaughing for fear I
should break down and cry, and took my sett. As I did so
there came a loud knock at the door. So loud thS
Jessienearlydroppedthesnub-nosedteapot. '
Good gracions, Joan I who is this ? "
p« r'r ^? ^° *?^ '^°°'" ^"^ °P^"ed it— then fell back aghast
^^lufti. !i"^ candlelight streamed fuU across the & of
the lady I had seen at the House to Let
"May I comein?"
.^Xî^'î "? '^^ ^°' permission. She walked in past me
r.ff «f ^ "* ''^^ the fast-falhng snow. She drew her hands
to the blaze two small white hands, ail twinkling îith rings
à
a ,.^„ 1 •■ . ^ o~""'6 "•■ •■•"o uo^Anug apparirton.
m»J^f 'f^'^ anf moùth agape, and my^n hear^
muât confess, fluttered ncrvously as I looked! Who wai
fcéii,*;.< ,;,fj
f:.:4'My''''.:i
i6
yO^iV KENNEDY* s STORY.
ik
r
.,^
she, and what did she want ? For fuUy a minute she stood
staring at the fire, then feeling that sonie one jnust say some-
thing, I took hèart of grâce, and said iu
"You hâve béen caught in the snow-storm," I ventured,
drawing near. ."I was afraid you would. Will you please
.tositdown?"
She took no notice of the profifered politèness. The
tawny eyes turned from the fire to my face.
"Will you tell me your name ? " was the strange young
lady's abnipt question.
" Joan Kennedy."
" You'"1iré a single woman ? "
"I am, madame.
" You live hère— in this bouse, with-
stare at mother and Jessie.
M
a pause and a
As a rule
" Joan
"With
'With my mother and sister — ^yes, at présent.
Llive àt service in Québec."
" In service ? " Another pause and a stare at me.
f Kennedy, would you live with mgf"
[ This was a leading question ^th a vengeance.
! you, madame ?" I gasped.
" With me. I want a maid, a companion, what you will.
Wages are no objeçt— to a trustworthy person. I will give
anything she asks. I am ail alone — ail alone — " her lips
trembled, her voice died away ; " ail alone in the world. I
hâve had great trouble and I want some quiet place to live
. —some quiet person to live with me, for awhile. I am go
mg to tal# that house to let. I was overtaken by the storm,
jusf now, and followed you hère, instead of going back to the
hôtel. I like your face — ^you look as thôugh you may hâve
had trouble yourself, and so could feel for others. I wish
jrou would come and live wità me. I hâve told you I am
m dreadful trouble—" she paused, a sort of anguish coming
over her face : " I hâve lost my husban'd," she" said with a
preat gasp, and covering her face with both hands broke out
into such a dreadful crying as I never heard or saw before.
" Oh, poor dear I " said my mother. For me, I stood stjU
and looked at her. J\^t could J Miy— w hat 'could I dol
JJfêàf soBs sbook fer from bead to (ooA À widow 1 1 glanced
*•':
-A»
'jîl
'^'-:i^^ààmjL::.'j
.gH^BWW^^WyypHjffy^ •
70^^ KENNEDY' s STÙRY.
at her left hand. Yes, there among the diamonds gleamed thaï
pla.n band of gold that has brouiht infinité blifs Tmi^ery
nl^ï. Al "'T'i'-V^.^'^S ""«• It lasted not twJ
looked up: "'"'^^ '^" '^"'^"^ ^'^^y '^^^^ *^*^« ^"d
J'i^^r™^ H^''- ^°!:^°°'" ^^« ^'^> "as I tell you, I
^Hâ^r-'^ *'^™^ '° Q"^^"*= yesterday, I saw that house
advert sed, and so came to see it. • It suits me, and I wiU
ake 1 for the next six months at least. Some one must
hve wuh me there I likayour looks. WiU you corne"»
Would I corne? would I live in the House tici Let? I
stood gaspmg-the proposai was like a cold douche-it took
my breath away.
emphatically this; «and in advance. It is a lonely phcé ^
it smts me the better for that, and you don't look Hke a
young woman afraid of bogies. If you wo^t come,"
haughtily «of course I shall find some one else." '
You .;;:i w "°* ^^^"«5^»" I gasped ; " -i^s ail so suddcn.
You must let me thmk it over. I will tell you to-morrow."
lît^fh ?T^ changed-she lifted a face tb mine that was
!:tped^^^'' ^^'^ "^ ^^'' of a chUd-she held up tw^
" ^^ corne," she said piteously ; « I will pay you anything
I^Z^^^'^IJ °°^ ^*"* ^"^ "^^ q"î^*^°r awhile, and awaf
from everybody. I am ail alone in the world. 1 hâve S
luy husband— lost him— lost him— "
" The lady is going to faint 1 " screamed Tessie.
. her or the "dreadful trouble" of which she spoke had
-w'^"/" ^T' f>" «^r^ «nsteadUy to and fro,tî2
words jiyipg on her lips, and I caught her is she fell.
. bo it waS that the first tenant of the House to Let came
Sat Zr ' ^"'^ ^'^ "^ '"■"' '^ ^«« ^' nt^y fr^
■>>/
1 - •*
CHAPTER II.
/
A WOMAN WTTH A SECRET.
1RS. GORDON did notleave our cottage that right
■ —did not leave it for two wliole weeks, and then
the housQthat wôuldn't let was let at last,and Sait-
tnarsh had a tenant.
' It would be of little use at this late day to détail ail the
arguments she used to win me (çi^ber attendant and com-
pamon— the most irrésistible argiÉteent of ail was wages,
treble, fourfold what I had ever earned before, and paid in
advance. Of her and her story I had very serious doubts,
but beggars must not be choosers. I took her money and
became her paid companion.
For hours that night, after mother and Jessie were in bed,
I sat beside Mrs. Gordon, listening to the story she told of
herself.,^ Brief; vague, and unsatisfactory to a degree, that
story was. She had been an orphan from childhood. She
was not wealthy, but she had sufficient ; great trouble had
suddenly corne upon her, and she had lost her husband after
four months of wedded life. That was ail.
" Lost your husband ! " I repeated, curiously, looking at
her. " Do you mean that your husband is dead ? " ■
A simple and natural question, surely; but her face, pale
before, tumed of a dead wHiteness from brow to chin.
" Dead of course," she answered, huskily ; " for pity's
sake, dbn't ask me questions. It is only a week ago, and I
cannot bear it. Only a week, and it seems like a century.
And to thmk— to think ôf ail the long, lonely, empty years
that are to corne I Never to hear his voice, never to see hifl •
/ace more I "
A nd then she broke down agato aod wept oh. hou
wepi ! My heart was fiiU of compassion, and yet—onîy
. \4 /
*
; ,4*'
A IVOMAN WITH A SECRMT^, ,q
Suee?storvon.h f '^«^l^J "ch, young and beautiful. A
^ Su • ^ °° ''^^ ^^^^ ®f ^'— a very queer storv indeed
had been a plam young person, I believe ten p3s a week
wouidnot hâve tempted me to take up with her andiurv
f^^Jr "^S^^f ^f^ B"t her wonderful Sy fdr?
tS ^:dT4r '" ^°'^'^ '^^^ "^"^ "^^' -- ^--t -y 1^"
" And if that face can make a fool of you, Toan mv dear »'
I said to myself, as I went to bed, "what awfil Lvo^if
mustrnakeamongmankindl no^y~i:Zit^^r
Mr. Gordon to d.e and leave it, anà how desperateîy fond
she must hâve been of him, to be sure !" l^™^y »o°<»
r*.o^„»"K^'" îf' ""^ stay hère until the house yonder is
ready," she said next morning, with the air of one nSt Sed
to being refused. « I dislike hotels-people stare so T^
It was curions to see her with her lovelv face her f^^a^r.*
dress. her diamond rings, and her S flowing hS^S
Strange y out of place in our small, bare, iiome v hon^e' T
hardly know whether she should haVe stlVed or not but'oJ
K'' totVl \^^' ^°'/ consent'ed't?a7;h'e%r
posed. To take the house for her, to see it furnished to
of s^h? '^^"^^'^' ^"^''^ ''''' ^^««^ '^^P' absoEroS
^nî^Jk^^'ti— ^'f ^«f" ** ^^'«^•^ I '^ent to Mr. Barteaux.
and abruptly informed him I Ma.tenant for the House to
re^^^n^J^r*'-^ '^'^' "* ^"- Gordon. Any
^vïwith hen" "" ""^S^ m, and I am engaged tl
« Hess my soûl!» said Mr. Barteaux. "You don't sav
SilyfjTjî.'^' '^'' ^ '^^^^ Jady, eh? How «;:.VS
SA
Mi m.,«>fl ar8%,^ baif;.*:SrTS.^'i^2d
i^it^j*.4^'^ ■
«5b*a^^àj
A WOl^AN' WITH A SECRET.
No family, sir. Quite a young widow. You must close \
the bargain with me, Mr. Bar-teaux ; her loss is récent, she
■ . is- in trouble, and doesn't feel like transacting business her-
^elf. There are no références; instead, she will pay in àd-,
vance if you choose." . '
We closed the bargain there and then ; and that very day
Saltraarsh was thrown open to the sunshine and free winds
of Heaven. What an odd, awesome feeling it gave me
to go with my mysterious liew mistress through the gruesome
apartments, silent and forsaken so long. Four, out of the
ten rooms the house contained, were chosen to be fumished
and fitted up, papered, painted, whitewashed, carpeted, cur-
tained. AU fell to me, 9.nd ail was done in two brief weeks,
and lyell done, though I say it, and Mrs. Gordon and Joan
Kennedy, it was known to ail Québec, were domesticatcd at
Saltniarsh.
I wonder novi^ as I sit hère and look back at that strange
time, that even poverty could hâve tempted me to endure
the Iffe I led ail those dreary months. The listless, lonely
days spent in reading or rambling through the empty, écho- ,
ing rooms, the long awesome nights when the winds held
high carnival without and the rats high , jinks within. No
bne ever came to the house, except s^ stout Frenchwoman,
who did our washing and gênerai drudgery, coming every
morning and going every night. For me, my position was a
sinécure, nothing to do, and treble wages for doing it, but
the hardest work i^or ail, that I ever did in my life.
And my mistress 1 Well, the days, and the wéeks, and
the months went by, and she was as great a mystery as ever.
Wheré she had come from, how long she meant to remain,
whither she intended going, were ail sealed secrets to me.
She never wrote letters, she never received any. SJie could
Dot hâve been much môre dead to ail the world outside our
wooden walls if she had been in her shroud and coffin.
She spent the heavy, aimless days sitting mostly at her
chamber window — a dark-draped, slender figure, a dreary,
lovely face, two great, hopeless eyes, a total wreck of life.
'Story of her life, whatever it hod been, no common
, be sure, was ended fof the time ; the pla/was over, thelig^ts
■ST-
i ' *V_.W'.
■» j'-'j
^
m.:,i.xf'
-< IVOMAN iVITH A SECRET. ' j,
out, and notliing left but to sit and look at the^curtain.
t7TZ?°''^^''^ ^"^^-T^^ °^^^« ^'^°"g so^t, of the silent,
SS iSèî ''°'"*" "^ something on her mind. a wornan
Two things I discovered— only two. Onfe, that her hus-
^°. Z Ta ^''^^^^* 1"^"^*^^' ^'^^^ «^^ had run awa^
froa him and was hiding hère, m horrible dread of his evei
finding her out. Secondly, that in spite of this running awav
and this constant terror, she stiU lovèd hira, with a pisfon.
ate and most despairing love. t>«»>jwu
I had gone into^her room one night, anS found her sittinir
holding a picture before her, and gazing on it as if entraBeef
It was her principal occupation. I had often foundTer S
before, but the picture itself I had never seen. To-night
however, she talled me to her in her abrupt wav -
"Joan," she said, "corne hère."
She had been crying, I could see-silently and miseraWy.
I went and looked over her shoulder at the picture.
Photography was in its infancy in those days— every £amily
had not its picture gallery. This was a daguerréotype— the ^
portrait of a young, dashing-looking and rather handsome
man. A beardless and boyish face, yet a very manly one,
lookmg up at you wuh frankly smiling eyes. ?
" It 13 ail I hâve left," she s^id, with treniulous lips. « I
mil never^ee him again. I loved him and I hâve spoUed
h s whole hfe. It would hâve been better for him he had
died than ever looked in my face."
" Indeed," was my rather stupid answer. But I was used
to her extravagant talk;^ not mudh affected by it. « He
is a fnend of yours, madame ?"
a ifcîîff lî°!f ^ ï ^u ' P^''*"'*' *°^ ^^^"^ ^^^ ^^ the'-e <l*wned
a light that made her beauty radiant.
" He is my husband I ".she answered.
I drew back andjlookeà at her-aghast, I must confess.
Your husband 1 I repeated. «Oh— a^ox your husband
you mean ? You told me he was dead." , '
^^ Alive anitwell; and though I should livé to ht a
iMWdred, I may never see hig face agâin. Never agat» ; and
•f
•i
1?,,
-m
,•■ I
22
4> WOMAN WITH A SECRET.
SA,
•A-
there are times wrtien I would lay down my very life only tQ
look upon him once more."
" You love him and — he has left you ?" I ventufed.
"I love him — and I left him. I love. him with ail my
heart, and I hâve fled from him, and buried myself hère for
fear of him. I wonder I don'ttgo mad, or die. Once I
thought I would without him ; but somehow life drags ou
and on, and one is a coward, and afraid to end it one's selC
He loved me once, Joan — ah, dear Heaven, yes 1 he loved
me and made me his wife ; and dow, and now, Joani if ever
he finds me, I bplieve he will take my life."
I looked bacK at; the frank, fair, boyish face.
"He take your lifel" I said; "that bright-faced boyl
No, Mrs. Gordon, murderers don't look like that."
" He is the truest, the noblest, the bravest of men, a loyal
friend and a gallant gentleman." *
" And yet his wife runs away from him, and says if ever
they meet he will take her life." \ ^
She scarcely seemed to heed^me. SHe laid her head on
her folded arms as thougl> she never cared to lift it again.
" Ah 1 let me alone," she said. " You know npthing
about it. If I could but die and make an end of it ail 1
Only this, Joan," she looked up suddenly, swift, dark terror
in her eyes ; " I dreamed last night he was searching for me
— that he was hère. He came and stood before me, st^9>:y»
and terrible, holding my death-warrant in his hand 1 Dbn't
let hdm come ! don't let any one come ! If ever we çieet,
I believe in my soûl he will kill me."
Was Mrs. Gordon going mad ? that was the very serious
question uppermost in my thoughts when I went to bed that
night, and for many nights after. It was a very qaeer and
uncomfortable affair altogether, and the sooner î sot out
of it the better ; and just as I was l^eginning to tnink of
tenderinç my résignation, behold the dimax ail at once
came of itself. '
March, April and May had passed — it was the close of
June. I had gone into the city ope afternoon for car weekly
store of groceries, finished my purchases, and, baskçt on arm,
=ïrâs"^feg; home. Myiray tedBp^Strl^
\
1*^:
,^-^i-i -*-
l^^^&^âyiï^
.fà^lir V.,
7:-»?TOr»---j!jwf»ar»-)7f*Wrrw^**fî
^-'
'm
t;t,*«i'*
,-^>-
fVOJIfAJSr WITH A èsCRET.
passing the office of Mr. Bartean» t »- i.- .
that stranger, and with one «eaT hn«n P'" "^ '°°^ ««
mouth. #or it was the oXEf ?J."^ ^^""^ ^^ ^ «"X
Gordon's husband. « ThXur and fhf "''"'■^" '^^^ ^^
Neither saw me I rll^A l *! "^'^ '^^'"^ corne I "
Thesame. beyonîdoubr hesamTS ^"A^^^^*^^ ^'^'
and haggard, set aad stern fhl ' '^'^ * difference~5om
of a frafk, hkppy boy S's'^a re'^S ^"^ '^ ''5«^'^<^ ^^^
straw hat was pulled Ô^Th^ ev^T . '' ^««P^^^e nran. A
was buttoned ut>4 soSieraK ge£rT.°^^^*=^^'
dent at a élance. genueman, that was evi-
had fled, was hère " wauïd ^f^""?"^ '^'» "!">"• «he
half an hour was ai Saltoa«h ^ "'™'" "^^-i' "d »
«■df:.aSfwtr„:i'l'â'a?;v;u^*-^^^^^
co»t rsrwlâthS'at toesTiad^f ""^t" J°« "«^
«.os. „„f„r,„„,.e„, wL oT^fte S ."■>,r '^^
well where to find h*.r «« ♦!. • ."'"es. i knew prettv
<:on«ng rapidiy toward me at a swLlng pace '^ °''*'"'^*''
hJïtre.^'»-^--^ed.sopir^^^^^^^^
shicte^^hTi^^^^^
late. I turned and fled heaSonï 7^ ^"u ^'"^^ ^*'0"« of
Path, stiUcalIinghern^e fch^^ *^« stêfep hiUside
fast-flowing water, M^s. Gordor wau!ed. ^ ^ "« ** ^""^
^
"^
\"
■»."
mf^m»im*'
fC» '*>
f^-
*
■u^v-'
'^À
^
24
^ IVOMAN WITH A SECRET,
She paused in her slow walk, and turàed to me in wondet
at my break-neck aescent
■ How beautifal she was 1 even in that suprême moment, I
remember that was my first thought
"For pit/s sake, flyl" I cried out; "fly at once. Hé
ishere!"
She laid both her hands suddenly over her heart. Across
her face there flashed the electric light of à great and sud-
den joy.
*♦ Who ? " she said, almost in a whisper.
" Your husband, the man whose picture yoiàshowed me.
Fly at once if you are afraid of him. I saw\ him, I tell
you he is coniing. Oh, Heaven ! — he is hère l "
I fell back in consternation. Yes, he had foUôwed - me ;
he was coming down the path, he waé hère.
I turned to my mistress. Would she faint? wôuld she
fly? Neither.
Who is to understand men's^ wives I Terror was there, in
that wild, white face, it is troe, but over and above it ail,
such rapture as I never before saw in the face of man or
woman. She loved him and she saw him again-^all was
said in thaf.
He walked down t^e path. She came a step forward,
with that transfigured face, and held oiit tp him both armé
with an éloquent cry :
" Gordon 1 Goidonl"
\
•* !
WiaS^^VL
" i.'" '"*'*';^ 'V" ■ 'si; <(. »
r
\ >.
>
CHAPTER III.
.«^
ind wait wilh bated bra°h anH hi«''''ï^^^
gf hearing has become Hniii? .^ u ^^^^^* yo"*" sensé
able to- hear. ail I ha^tosI^thZ^' '°^^\ ^^^ ^i» be
detain you long andTo , n.ii f' ^ you stand. I will not
Butletmôtell vou thic- rf„^?.u i^ ,^" ^^^^ >s passed.
^hat memorabSt fi;em^^^^ «''^ Play»d eavesdropper
yoii did, if ï had found yoïïeforeT^ V°"^^ "«' ^^^ as '
would never hâve Hvèd ?o se/ Th '^^•^" ^ ^eturned, you
>oI that ever walked the earth I tnT"'"^. '^^^ ST^^'"*
met that night I «roulH 1?, k ^** ^een—if you ànd I had
Ali this &id ?n a 3W^ «^^^^^^^ ^ '
*s rio worR'I^L cl fdL ^^ '^"^ '^«••^f"» «f «ûch hitred
,v ^^
•'?l
wAv ^, a
âwi <r ' j« fc^ ''^.v, Hfc "'*v s.
.' ' ■ 'k
f:\P
j6
TITE DECRER OE DIVORCE.
■-^
tmt-
^'Spare me, Gordon," she answered, with a sobbing cry.
" Spare you ? " he répeated, with cold scorn ; " hâve I
not said so ? I would not lift a iinger to harm a hair of,
your head, or to save your life if I saw you drowoing in the
river yonder. You are as dead to me as though I had gone
hotiîe and strangled you that eveptful night. The madhess
of love and,rage, alike, are past forever. I hâve eut you off
utterly and absolutely from my life. You have'been in hiding
hère, they tell me, in daily dread of yoiir life no doubt.
Let us end ail that. ^ You are free to corne and go wbére
and how you will. Af^er to-day I will never look upon your
face again of my own free will, alive or dead."
She gave a «hrill cry, like a cuîprit under the lash, her
hands still held out to him iiidumb agony.
•* I hâve not eyen come to Québec now in search of you," >
the cold, pitiless voice wenti,pn ; "don't think it. I came
tô visit General Forrest^jî'irationed yonder at the Citadel,
before leaving thisàccursed Canada torever — accursed since
in it I met yçu."
Her outstretched hands went up, with a dull moaning
ROund, and coverèd her face.
" Would you care tp know how % found you oui, and why^ I
caine^" he slowly went oh. " Listen : Last night at mess
the fellows were speaking of a widow lady, a most Uiyster--
ious widow lady, young and beautiful, so rumor said, -^o hàd
takeo a desolate bld house in a -màrsh, and there shpt heii^>
self up, hidden from mortal man and light pjf day. Het
Bame was Mrs. Gordon. . Where she caoie fi j ÉtL j JÉfeaiphe
was, why she had cxm^i^ man could t^^^^NBHJrar^^
name was uttered I knew it was you. ^J||^PR^K^°'
yoii fled from Toronto you fled hère; TcneW^K» tneiost
woman who had been my wife was found;"
Her hands dropped. For the first time she stood upright
^before him and looked him fuU in the face, stung, it would
iftto tuming at bay by thèse lait words.
^ beep your wife 1" she cried, passionatdjr ;
wife, Gordon Caryll 1 Nothing," a sort of cx-
erthatl*^
* -^i
ctSM^îw
^
M\ W T ^t^ '^fV-'^S:
THE DECRÈE OF DIVORCE.
27
minute he stood silently Jooking at her a
, lips, a pitlless trjutnph itj his eyes
fothing car. change thât ? " he repeated ; '« nofhînir but
, f? Well, I will answer Jhat before we Dart T ^ »
go on ï knew it Waâ you. this woma^ they ÏÏed of .^^^^
lïpcffî Jier face once more, for the lâsf »m,» „.,,i .*^".' '"""^
wH., .bere was, if I ca„, i'„T, txKiXaut ,.' T'^lloT
black eyes, its stra eht nose InH cii,^,. '^«^"i/i u» yeiiow-
into blin'd, beso.«-d &"• T^e dWvo°„r'ha„d°"W"""
mond, and )et me look at J.on ■• * *°'''' '^^-
* Gordon, hâve mercy on me. I love youl »
Again she stretched forth her hands to hini with thaf «Jf
cous cry. Aga,n he motioned her imperfousîj rack hU ït
set, his eyes p.tiless, his face like stone ^ ' '"' ^'P'
"Stand stillJ» heordered.
She ob'eyed.' . * -
.For fully two minutes this strange tableau was befnr*. ™-
fore him, her lovely, œloLs faL „pw5d hl;:*=7„Cr'
— young, fair, uiDOcent to su. at least <;« .!,„ ! j '
t'â'/ofthTSa« /° j"^,"'^Ki^-^
K
^
/^
'm
r-
4
'J?
Ksi»
Iff
'i
t.- //
28 THE DECREE OF DIVORCE:'
— do you know it ? my fatHer has disinhented me — I am the
laughingstock of ail who ever knew me. I look back and
wonder at myj5(wn infaUiation. 1 loved you — I trusted you.
Oh, God!/' he cried ont, a sp^sm of anguish distOrting' his
face ; " 1 f^ried you — you ! You played your game Well,
you and Lovell. It was your trade ; and with such afool
as'I, it was an easy game enough. But you had causte to
fear, and you knew it — I say again you did well to ^y. I
. went out from Lovell's death-bed a madman — if I hadfound
you onmy return, by the light al?ove us, I would hâve mur-
dered you !"
She shrank back from him, trerabling with pure physical
terror now, from head to foot.
"No need to tremble — no need to fear now" he went on,
his voice losing its sudden fury, and sinking to its former
cold monotone ; " I hâve told you ail that is paist and
done with. But before we part, I should like tô heàr once
frotti your own lips, just once (not that I doubt) that Major
Lovell's story was true."
j Her only answer was to cower still farther aw^y, and
with a great, heart-wrung sob, to bury her face once agaia
in her hands.
"Ah, hide it," he said bitterly ; "hide it forever from the
sight of man — the fairest, falsest facfe everaiiade. But speaiK
— if such lips as yours can speak truth, and tell me that
Lovell's story was true."
" Gordon ! hâve mercy." «
" Was it true ?"
" I loved yoju, Gordon ! As there is a heaven above u»,
I loved you with ail my heart."
He half laughed — even in that moment.
" Your heart— j/<7«rj / What witty things are said by ac-
cident ! Never mind your heart or your love. I knuv
what both are worth. Answer my question. ' Was Love
itory true. One word: — yes or no."
" Gordon, I was faithful. Oh 1 what shall \ say to him to-~>'
" Was it true ? Yes or no ? "
liG erdo% X swear — :". * -
H
' V •■=^'^fe^ •* ±\
^1
fe^*i^É?' .
r^
*-», '
r/r£ DECREE OF DIVORCE.
ild hâve rnur-
^en above u»,
"Yes, but — "
trionic talents for tirNewvdtr^^'' ^"^ ''""P >'«"'• ^i^-
theni before long. Let us iThnlï^f agajn-you may need
ment âgo. « You are ni5 Lr ^ '""u^^^ ^^^ «^'^ ^ mo-
her"^ wS,irg7n'r VacTL t T^ r^"^' ^^"^^^ ^ ^«
nothing had frightehed yet Her h '^^ ^^"^'«^"ed her as
to ope^ the,,4er.a"n1 ?an;d. She oled at V^'" T''
eous eyes and trembling lips ^ ^^ '''"' ^'^^ V^>
;;i can'r"^she faltered; ''Gordon, what fs it?"
so.^^Se'"^^^::^<3;b<^answered. L his cold,
fliglu, lihs^tuted.a'^s.it or c^f^;^^^^^^^^^ yo^
oan read ihe détails [n th^^ ?-.o ? ' f ° ^^^^^"ed it. You
Canada solong^'L'tZ'daTsï^ ^^-^^K '^«P^ "^e i
had LT^teSTgeS iJ^At"''^"'^ fP^^^' S^^
had said " waiti " in a hofr^I' v ^f "^'^ ^°'" '^at ; slie
It was the ghastly chaLethatlT^H '*"''' ^"' '' ^^« "°t ^^at.
startled even him ^^^ * "'°'"^"^' ^ «"nk, it
Shi^ZlUZr'^'V^^' yr ^^" «"e-this-^vorce?"
l'.'v V "°'°"Se'"^our wife ?"
«.ercif:rCof"h:T„'d"'^'"'^'-'''^°'' H--''ven and th.
or deadV^ '"" "«""T « be in my power.
;i'^-fc'-V-..,> .'
p^Ai^tiM^.^»!^"
'T^V
-'■^*V^'^'' ' "'^
1 f^,J»* J ^
~'r(f>
lit ' ■
Uk
30
2'J/£ DECREE OF DIVORCE.
•' Then hear me /** ^ She drewherself upright, her small
figuré seeming to dilate and grow tall. "Lovell's story
was true — true I tell you in every particular except this :
that I married you for your rank, and your name, and your
wealth. I married you for thèse, it is true ; but beyond
thèse, because I loved you with ail niy heart. Oh, yes, -
Gordon Caryll ! even such women as I am can love ; and
in- deed, and thoiight, from the hour you placed this ring
on niy finger, I was your tnie and loyal wife. I would
nave gone with you to beggary-r-I would hâve died, if need
wero> for your sake. Now I am divorced and cast off for-
ever, you say. Well, then we shall meet again one day,
so sufely as we both live. This cold-blooded divorce I will
never forgive. Go, Gordon Caryll I but remember this, one
day or other, so surely as we both stand hère, I will make
you suffer for this !"
He laughed as he listened — a low, contemptuous làugh,
that woutd hâve goaded any infuriated woman to madness.
" You do it very well, Rosamond," he said ; " but so
niany years' hard practice on the stage of the Bowery
Théâtre could hardly fail to tell. For the rest, it is rather
wasted on an unappreciative audience at présent. If I
should be so unfortunate as ever to meet you again, I
trust, even then, to be able to take care of myself."/
He turned without another word and left her, striding
up the steep path, and never once looking back.
She stood where he left her, .watching him out of sight,
the color fading from her face, the life from her eyes. So,
standing motionless there, she saw him pass from view,
heard the last écho of his footsteps die away. Then I
came forward, for the look on her face fnghtened me.
She turned to me slowly, the fatal paper held in her hand.
" I dreamed he came with my death- warrant," she said ;
" hère it is." ,
And then without word or qy to wam me, she went
down in a dead faint on the sands.
How I broight her to, how I got her home,- I can
never tell. ' I did it somehow, and laid her on her bed
-»s-the^ -fa ne m o o a^ ro s e And^^ie stars came ont, - =
■'T.
'*'
;4
■THE DECREE OF DIVORCE. ,,
-r-Sf feh*^^ ^T'^ï ^'^\^°'"aB, was still pottering about
-^ fte kitchen In her charge I left my çiistress, and fled
into town for a doctor. For she was very ill- o iU that
,it seemed doubtful whether she would ever live o see
day dawn. ^^
' ^J^''^.S^^^ °^ ^"^^^^! ?'«^ "P »" steeples, silvered by
the qmet summer moonhght, were chiming eleven as ouV
first visitor entered Saltmarsh— the doctor
And when the lovelj June morning dawned, and the
swallows twittered in the eaves, Gordon Caryll's cHild av
-ï m niy. anns, and Gordon Caryll's divorced wife lay white
itsi "ï^riXiJ:''^ "' ^""^ '«'"'^^ '^^ ^^ ^^
' . ' , i . ■ ■
tnM
.1 *■'&%■
,"^4 ' '''
\' .
■■"«.
y
-^ CHAPTER IV.
A STRANGE ENDINO.
IIFE won. Days passed, two weeks went bv and
the stmggle was at an end. Pale and sha( owy that
marvellously fair face lay among the pil ows bu al
A STRANGE ÉNDfN^O.
Il
; ,^azing >»ith dark, sombre eyes out at that radiance in
Heavcn and on earth-that glory f.o.n the skies upor. rivir
a.Klshore. I-oMnoro than. an hour she had been siî L
motignless her dark, brooding eyes never Icavinr L fi f
scène as though she saw her mvn future life ovcr^ ère 1 e^
yond that sh.n.ng nver. In the dim distance, baby ay i Juâ
cnb fast asieep; deepest silence reigned w.th n and mtHoit
ITiat silence wassuddeniy and siiarply brok^by he H v
feeble wa. of the child as it awoke: "^^s I roseLd cros ed
lence I obel^ed Th T !°,''^ '^'''^ "^""«'^^' '^"t in si-
lence 1 obeyed. Fhere had been swpething revolting to
me m Uer utterwant of molher-love; in- her unnatura i^d f
beTidfVer! """'' '' '' ^'" '^"'^'^^ ^"^ ^'<>°l-d to'plàce it
"No, no," she said with a quick, pétulant gësture of r^
pulsion; "notthere; Idon'twantit^ 1 alwa^s S ba-
bies. I only want to.ïook at it." " ^ \
" Shall I bring in the lamp ? " I asked.
Joatf ::L!^!trî'^'^ "" '" ""''' * ^°* °^ -l'^by ,/
Vo2I^LTu"^m'''w'''''''''^' "beyondthat it is i.n-"
possib e to ell. Mrs. Watters says, thoiigh, it is your verv
"mv verV m::S"'^ ^'^ '"'^^i'^î^^ thaVever w^rbon^^
My very moral she repeat^d, with a feeble laugh. " I
hope so I I hope it may be like me. I hope it nuv never
resemble >5/^, in any way. I hoptf it may ivèVheb
avenge its mother yet 1 " ^ ^
reowZ ^"""'-«hocked and scandalized beyond power of
reply ng. Hère was a Oiristian woman and mother i.iïï
saved from death, talking like some heathen.of revenge
Uir , 1 answered, shortly. " It is time you asked "
^^wS T'^,5'r'"".'^ '"-T^"^^' b"^ i" "o ispleasure.'
.,,'^'^yshouldlask? It didn't matter much A drll «
; e1n5"rpSt;'h7' '""T' ^^° ^^™ ^^^^^^
beÎD«^ S^'n^™f '^^«'■^^'^'^'"g'yet. She may
-w«t«rncdiOTiacerj:oin'ïhe iight,^a^^ for "a long
>.
34
A STRAIfGE BNDING,
■< I
time still, brooding over her own thoughts— dark and wicked
tholights I well knew. VVhoever or whatever this Mrs. Gor-
don migKt be, slie was hot a proper or yirtuous woinan,
that seeoied preUy^ clear —a wife whose hu^band had beeii '
forecd to put her away — a mother who only looked for<^rd
to the future df her child as an instrument of vengeance
on its father. There are some services thàt no wages can
repay— to iny uiind this wasone. The moment Mrs. Gor-
don was jvell enough to be left, that moment 1 would leave
her. . .
" And what will beçome of you with; such a mother,
Providence only knows," I apostrophized ithe little one on
niy lap. " You poor, little, . spectral, black-eyed njite I I
wish you belonged to me altogethér."
From that evening Mrs. <iordon rallicd^ and bs^ertéd her
power once more fis mistress of the house. Her first act
of sovcreignty was to dismiss the nurse.
" AU danger is over, the doctor>tçllà me," she said to
• Mrs. Watters a few days after. '.' Joan Kennedy can take
care of me now. I shall not require ypu any more. Joah,
pay Mrs. Watters her due. She leaves/to-night."
Mrs. Watters left. Next morning Mrs. Gordon asserted
herself still fur ther — she insisted upoii being dresaed and
allowed là sit up. She had her Way, ôf course, and I wish
I could tell you how fair and yo\ithful aïKl'lovely she looked.
Youthful ! I déclare, whatever her âge really was, she did
not look a day over sixtcen. But there was that in her quick,
black eyes, in her colo^rless face, in those latter days, not
pleasant to see— something I conld not define, aiid that
confirmed me in my resolution to leave her very soon. Of
her child, from the evening of which I hâve spoken, she
took not the slightest notice. I truly believe she never
once looked at itagain ; when itcried s^ had it impatiently
removed out of hearing. She sat thinking— thinking stead-
fastly, with bent brows and compressed lips, of what — who
CQuld tell ?
** ni give her waming to-morrow," I said résolutely ta
inyself; "my month is up in a week. l'il never liv«
anpthef w i th ycH i. m y p r<s tty , myster ious^iittle m ist re sa. "
»<,'m«i&?'-'.-%rvS'*^i?
-»5- , *^^Vf^^ '■'î '' "^^'a** V
># SrXANÇE ENDING.
35
jsl tboight it. Did she divine my very thouchts ? Thî
to a most misérable Tnd ïonely wonl^n %T'**^k "f "^'"^
"'.Tctd h' *ri^\°' "' anStrrSe'say'^g^ïïV;""' ^°"
'•Gomg away, Joan: hiffh time is it nnf> au •
to.morro» 1 go ow in.o the wÔrU once more^dL "lî
eighteen •' "**'° *° ''^ ^'^°'"'^«d ''^^«^at the âge of
'W.
' .c
a(»^aSf,i*, j4*.te, ,
"n^JSM.
■MPPi
X y ^ »\
36
-rf STRANGE ENDING. v '
bu^r Ô.n? iî fTh"^ ^°'"^'"'- J°^"-^»»^t' I ««appose, you kno. ;
but I qmt it a thoiisand tunes worse. I. came hère with â
human heart, at least, a heart that^-could love and feel re-
morse : but love and remorse are at an end. I told him I-
loved hmi and had been faithful to him, and he laughed in
my face. Women can forgive a great deal, but they do
notforgive that. If he had only left me-if he had^not
got that divorce, I would never hâve troubled him—
never, I swear I would hâve gone away and loved him.
and been faithful to him to the end. Now-now VsS
paused, her hands clenched, her yellow eyes gleaming cat-
.ke m the dusk. « Now, I will pay him back. sooni or
later, if I lose my hfe for it. I will be revenged— that I
r,i "'''■^"'^^a^ay .O-om her, from the sight of her wicked
lace, from the hearmg of her wickec^l^ords,— the horror I
îelt, showmg, I suppose, in my face.
««r/.î l" ^""^"^^ /.^'■^ horrible, yery shocking, does it
not ?' she asked, bitterly. - You a/e one of the pious
and proper sort, my good Joan, who walk stiffly Ilong
the smooth-beaten path of propriety, from your cradle to
your graye.' Well, I won't shock you much longer, lel that
be your comfort. The day after to-morrow I go, ànd as a
souvenir I mean to leave that behind me." «
She pomted coolly to the crib in the cornei'.
» /°"— you mean to leaye the baby?» I gasped.
Knif r 1,"'^^"'^.° •'^^''^ ^"^^ ^^by-" she answered, with a
half laugh, parodymg my tone of consternation; "you
didnt suppose I meant to take it with me, didyou? I
young lady-young lady, you understand, Joan? and you
icYh f 72 ^""11 ^ '^^" ^^"y "° s"*^^^ land-mark with me
as that of the old one. Yes, Joan, I shall leave the baby
wuh you, if you wiU keep it, with Mrs. Waters if you will
;Ji* ^^' i^.îî^" ''f^P ^y^ ^^^y *P^ welcome," I said : « poor
«n L Ku^""^ ^l''^^? ^" "' s'^^P' so «'"ail and helpless,
so worse than orphan)Ed at its very birth, I stooped and -
kissed it, with texfs ^ m y jgy ér ^ ' pea ang
'-- tf,.
f'^-^.-'-X v:**^;'^
37
^ STRANGE kNDWG.
But it js late in the day for wSi ""? ^. '^«'"^ Jike you
Vou will keep the child?° '"'''^'"«-^^^1 ,s doqe i, done.
;' I wUl keep the child."
<^l^f^^J^^^^^y^^ One day
. " has us work to do in the ^^id ,f ^ ^ ^«^ « die, Joan^
W you, of course, and welî Th "^ ""^'^ ^° "• ^ wil
«'hen I came hère is almost Je kT"^ ^ '^^^ ^'^h me
your d^nadian woods anTr ver th.r. °"* r"^'^'"' ^^^0"^
busy *,ns and hands. The fi^ rn ;? '' f'*"^^^ '"«re for
leave w,th you to sell or keep al von"'^ °1 ^'^"^^ '•°'^"« I
"'ay be, I will give you an Ll^ ^^^ ^*- ^herever I
reach me." ^ ^°" ^° ^ddress, whence le tiers will "
• c^IZ:!! "^^^^ -turn-never corne to see your •
shoufdT/' ^l27rcVfoTTt 'not'" '' '°^ fi°°^- VVhy
you mean. On^ day, if we bo;;:T ^/^f^^-i» the way-
day its father shall l/arn to hU .'''^'/ '^'" ^^^^im "J one
has a child." "' *° ^'^ ^««t and his sorrpw, that he
f^^n Sl^^l^ Zi^% ^^eat eyes for an in-
h^rfplded hands^a;^1dly"o„ ^L'erl" T^^ "° '»o^e!l
turned upon- the raoidlu L i, - ^^P' ^^r moody g^e
twUight was shrouding ail S^^ g^ay, creeping, î„iv
babyawoke and crfed I hf/V\^ f^^^^^^ hLe^' K
amp and Hfted it As l t ■ ''' ^?"'^ ^«^dy-J m the
us feeding-bottlerits hg blIS eve^sV^^^ P'^^'^^^ ?""'"« at
Sf;."^ n,other -ne^d ï;rm\rwS;ï:d"lM
fusîT^oflonM^^^^ ^'-'^ eyes. and prc
changeling in a fafry tai^thL 7^^, ^""^ "^^^ some effish
" Ifs a hideous i« le ob^e " '' '^ïï^ '^^"'^" <=hild.
X
^i^^tà. .
w
\
*
4
,•■,:« lA-,- ; ','ijï '■■'"• :;#'"**Sr|
♦'•S'
38
A^ STRANGE ENDING.
~\
It must be pretty. Will it, do you fhink, Joan? ^Wm it
rcally look liice nie?"
" I tlîink so, madame— :very like you. More's the'^pity,"
I added, under my breath.
" Ay " still thoughtfully staring at it, " is there any ,v.
birthmark ? The proverbial strawberry on thç arm, or mole *
on the neck, you know ? that sort of thing ?" " iv
" It has no mark of any kind, from head to foot." ■^,:;
"What a pity; we mûst give it one, then. Art musT "^
supply the deficiencies of nature. It shall be done to--^'
morrow."
" Whqi must be done ? Mrs. Gordon, you don't surely
mean — "
• "I mean to mark that child so that I shall know it again,
fifty years from now, if need be. Don't look sô horrified,
Joan, — I won't do anything very dreadful. On^arks one's
pocket-handkerçhiefs— why.not one's babiesA^ou may
die; she may grow up and run away— oh, yës, she may !
If she takCs after her mother, you woii't find it a bed of
roses bringing her up. We may cross paths and never •
know each other. ï want to guard against that possihility.
l'want to know my daughter when we meet."
" For pityls sake^ madame, what is it you intend to do?" ,
" You hâve seen tattooing, Joan, done in India ink ?
Yes. Well, that is what I nîean. I shall mark her initiais
on her arm to-morrow, exactly as I mark them on my *
handkerchief, and you shall help me."
' " No, madame," I cried out in horror, " I will not. Oh,
you poor Jittle helpless babe I Madame 1 I beg of you —
don't do this cruel thing." ^
"Cruel? Silly girf I I shall give it a sleeping cordial, -
and it will feel nothing. So you will not help me?"
" Most assuredly I will not."
" Very well— Bettine will. And léist your tender feelings
should be lacerated by being in the house, you may go and
pay your mother and sister a visit. By the by, you don't
iâsk me what its name is to be, Joan." " ^^
•* As I am to keép it, though, supposing you don't kiU il
to-morrow. 'I sUall be glad to kncwirf Mrg> Gordon."
^
i.., . \r^
:'-i^!^
»
% ,
wm it
."^' ,.,,
W"
tt
e any i
r mole „
■ . "4'
: mus!
surely
again,
Tified,
i one's
-
may
may 1
bedof
'
never •
„ »
bility.
<.
do?"
„
ink?
nitials
n my
ft
Oh,
f
/ou —
'^
-I STRANGE END ATG.
di: ' K lÏV^^t:^ i^t;:--- ^ar; I do Jt .ant ^l
She paused a moment, and tuSëd"^^^^^
On />*« point, evenshecouldfeelvet '^ ^^ **^^^-
^'but I will still call it & him r "V "^^^''°' ^^^^dily,
nariie, s it not. Joan ? an odd o^e ton f°" ^^'ï^-^ P^etty
clami Tt, howrever, and the nron/r ° * ^"'^- ^"'" ^
the Caryll, and call ft KennX TJnT^' ^" ^'^ ^'"«^
Scotch, respectable name-Gord;» i^^^^^» » good old
^ I said, to-,norro«r I wiH mark th. i^-T"^;: ^'" ^°- As
Vafn.; and whatever hàppTns ve^ '""jf'^ ' ^' ^' "P^^ its
?iy daughtèr and I evVr meet \Tnl^ ^^^'^ ^'•°'" "O"'- >ï
^"l 'co^rdo'^ï "-""Vert-" "" '" '^^^^^^' ^"*^
' Tu'J^'' <^rueUy/S5t sh%i'''^ottr'anH ^'^^ '"'^^^^^
could do as she nleased I wonW . and.mistress, and
•«"■"i up, Beube «c tet S;, ^'A^i- "» "■'', the .rm
. cpol. '•'"°' *"»• Gordon coBiposed and
until «fadame double druâ^eH^f i-*"? ^'^^'^ ^he heart,
7the poor infanttwill b^sore' and ' «^ ^'ï* ^he arm
day to corne. It is a heart «f »? ^ >nflamed for many a
the pretly little madame" °°^- ^^^'^eUe Jeanni^
. w
^i
lj:i
I •* v'•'&•J&^É^li^î^*.>^ -'■.
l^'-.f
^^ <^m
R
40
A STRAUrCE ENDWG.
\-y^:
■ lever stirred A„S li, ^ "'' °>"-'en, eleven; she
figure was there ae rte wfndo "/jr ' ""^ "°"°"'«^ "'"»
.he cabriolet ordered S QuXc wST.h:?''] """'• S**
Slooped for a-moment over hVr babe "h.?. "^T- ^''°
re?^°-l%r-^-*'"""»';ieï.s;^^^^^^^^^
banfl. ^ ' ^" °°« ^S»'"- She held out her
n.e"S«^tkrgo°„e-"a ^Sr li.tP""-' ""*.'°° ^^<"^ »'
bas gonehard. vTla\ ^ g ^^àTZla, "'""l "^^
I ;«.> corne back year^ toi d7,t^J^''\^r^\
iney were ehe last words she eve, .pok. jn &ut»..rA
r,'f
• i
fAvt, ■ ^~ ,i
"t -^
i -''1
"-rr
"«'-■» . -> >:
S:^ÉMÈ'
■ J«ï ■■!>..'.
'^ STRANGE ENDWG.
' JasïJl^!^ S^^S^^l S\TT ^ ^- ^°'^-
I watched her enter th^ rnh ' ? °"* °^ "^^ '«''« fo'-ever.
■ pale, lovely face" of i little Vo^/h'^I °"/ lasrglimpse of a
old Québec 'slept in to^'nlg'^^ilt'XTôrd^n^^^^
floodingu^steepstreets it^ tin rw '•. , r^°'^^" sunshme
Beufn'r "pir:^i'^r::/„t" fi'^'^^ •^--^ -^ ^'--d
bec and sold J a ein Z • ^^'?^' '"^''^ ^ «^"^ '""'o Que-
replaced the placard ter th', S "S '"^^^^^-d.
more a "-House to Let." ^ Saltmarsh was once
She had corne among us a mysterv— «;h^ i«ft
mystery still. I write tliis rtr^i^ 7^1 . .^^ "^ ^ greater
Jay it jnay need Tt l fèel "haf the' ''' 'ïf ' ^"'^^-^'^^
not end hbre, that it is but f h. ? T'^ ^ ^^^« '«'^ does
So surelyas t JwonUn and thi^SI' '° "i"' ^^ ^^ ^°"'«-
-sad and deep troubîe to th/r '';^^ ^"^ •"^^*' t^O"ble
corne of it I savTa.fn î *''?* "^f? Gordon Caryll-^vill
her. If I dï I Will p£ it n Jr" ^.f ^'"^^ ^« «^ "«^ »<>
her, and so I «gn mysetf ^^ ^^"'^''^^ ^^ g^^^n to
JOAK KenxeDY.
!^
^«3ji
;. JiiKr^ fi-A - '
.^SJiCLS^Ii-
CHAPTER V.
r^
AT CARYLLYNNE.
lANY milis away, niany miles of land, many leagues
of sea, far beyond that " city set on the hill," Qpç-
bec, far away in fair England, lay tlie broad do-
main of Caryllynne, Gordon Caryli's ancestral
home.
It lay in one of the brightest, sunniest of the sunny sea^
side shires, a fair and stately inheritance, stretching away
for miles of woodland and meadowland, to the wide sea,
sparkling in the late August sunshine, as if sown with stars. '
Under a massive Norman arch, between lofty iron gâtes,
you went up a sweep of broad drive, with a waving sea of
manycolored foliage on either hand, slim, silver-stemmçd
birches, copper beeches with leaves like blood-red rubie?.
sombre pines, hoary oaks, graceful elms, and whole rows of '
prioi poplars, those "old maids of the wood." ' Far away
this brilliant forest of Caryllynne stretched to the emerald
cliffs above the bright summer sea, to the little vilJagç nest-
hng between those green cliflFs, a village which for two cen-
turies had called the Squire of Cfiryllynne, lord.
You went up this noble avenue for a mile or more past
the pictufesque Swiss cottage that did duty as a gâte lodge,
past green and golden slopes of sward, past parterres bright
with gorgeous autumnal floMters, to the Manor hoiise itself,
an irregular structure of gray stone, turreted and many-ga-
bled and nîiich ivy-grown. There was a stately portico en-
tr»nce, a.flight of shallow stone steps, and two couch-
ant stone dogs, with the ancient raotto, *'Cave ranm."*> It
was a very old house, one portion as old as the reign of the
greatl-y-marriéd-man, Hertry the Eiehth/ A gift, indeed,
fromMMQ s t Chri s ti a n MajestyloAr-Ja s p e rCaryll, Km
'- •••
■ pk^
.«>,,
%>
ï«t'.'*' ^i-*'^!^^^^^ a (.
r-^fsr.-^^m^'^ ■
3 •
4^ CARYLLYNNE,
P
P
m
t' • • iv' ^^1
*«■%
43
ly leagues
lill," Qpç-
}road do-
ancestral
unny sea-
ling away
wide sea,
vith stars,
ron gâtes,
ng sea of
-stemtnfd
d rubie^
B rows of
Far away
emerald
agç ncst-
two cen-
lore past
ite lodge,
es bright
ise itself,
many-ga<
rtico èn-.~^
• couch-
iw.'V It
;n of the
, indeed*
, Knigh t ,
h^"i:t°rf4^"^-^- ^^'^' °^ '^^^ ^^^ocç^ion ot
with a brass tablet abovë h J J.'^^^- ^""u^'"^^ °^^ y^a^-s»
nuny CarylJs had been bori aJd r^^^J^'" T^^^> ^"^
within those grav stone w.Hc • "^?^^' ^"^ had died,
. of life, " Hatfh^^grM:trhi"^^ T^'r,^''' î'-'^' «'^ business
on and on within those andQue.?'''K''^'''"Sv' ^ad gone
Marian Caryll, widoTof S^^. ]ate Gnî^''^^"?, ^''''''^'
now in the Manor alone ^""^^'^^ ^^'■>'"' ^^igned
do:s':atseti^dh:?,XTaï:Tï^ ^^^^^^"S^- -"
tories gay with flowe ; thèse 3 l^'^''^^^^' ^°"^^^^^-
bright. Flowers, indeed were Zlr^ ?^ ^î^^'^^ ^«^^"^"8
in half a hundred nooks in swinTn ^T.^T' '" «^'^^ ^^«^
eventidelayovertheland ncVi u^^* ^remulous hush of
Phaeton da^shed up the îo;,^^ï;"^"f ^^J^^P^k gâtes a pony
h.gh-steppçrs. a dainty.ffi baske? r.^ •"''^' Two black
suting vcry erect and upri.^^^^^ ^^^ a lady
hand-a lady in sweepinim^r Inf m * ^^"^^^^ firm
weeds-the mistress ofThfs f^rr^^nfain '"^'''""^ ^^^'^^^
hi^^^rSl^rard SeXd o^^ ' ^'^^ '^-^ As she flung
a very tall a„d st &°tSf ^ '""f ''''' ^^^ ^af .
well. A tall, pale, ra^her cold'IS. ^I ^°"^ J'^^" «^ «&
lady, handsomer i^rhaDs inÏÏr t ^ . ''^î"?' "*«^ ^aughty
could ever hâve bJ^nTyou^'' "'"'''' ™'^^^« ^« *han^«hj
ACn7sh':":?dfoXl;oU^^^ l^ynelyAbbey.
exercised and well rubbe/do^ ' u^M^^' '^^y ^'^ '^^^7
__ .;: nian^maclc a «,rt of hâTffliirury galute, as to his com-
V
-F
«nanding officer.
■■■m*
m
K
%
V
C
r^
tiif^f
♦T^*
- l
X-
^ ^ ' *vry ^
^--;
ll|>
ii'<^i-
<> r; ,'
'Aï
.;S«*'i'
44
^7" CARYLLYNNE.
"Post canie'alf an hour ago, ma'am. l'U dtttnd to thc
ponies, pia'am, ail right."
Mrs. CaVvJl passed on with | slow and measured sort of
tread up th'» stone steps, past the great couchant dogs, along
. thé vast domed hall, hung with suits of mail and antlered
heads, up the wide stairvvay and into her own rooms. Thè
rose light of the sunset filled those elegantly appointed
apartments, and Jying upon an irilaid table the mistress of
the Manor saw what she lookedfor — a sealed letter. Her
heârt gave a bound, cold and well disciplined as it was, but
(it was chaiacteristic of the woman) before taking it up, she
slowly laid aside her bonnet and veil, drew off her gloves,
and then deliberately lifted it. A moment she paused to
glance at t'ie ftpe flowing writing she knew so well, then she
opened an<l reàd :
LoNDON, August 25/A, 18—.
My De AHEST Mother : — I hâve arrived but this moment.
By the first train I leave for home. I write this simply to
announc^ my Coming. I will be with you almost as soon as
my note. I know that in spite of ail you will grant me this
last interview a,t least.
Your aflfectionate son,
Gordon Caryll.
■>
•She CTUshed the brief letter in her strong white hand.
Her fixrdly pale face, even in the glow of the sunset, seemed
, lo grow paler, her firm lips set themselves in one tight un-
pleasant îine.
" * My dearest mother ! ' * Your affectionate son,' " she
said, bitterly, looking at the letter. " Yes, I will see him —
he is right — for the last time. After to-night I shall be as
though I neverhad a child."
She folded the letter, laid it aside methodically in a drawer
with many others. Slow, methodical habits had become
second nature to-Mrs. Caryll. "Yes," she thought, " I will
see, him once more — once more. Whatever he may hâve to
say in his own défonce I will hear. To him and to ail mam
,kind I t riisLl shall alwaysdomy duty But corne what may,
after to-night I will i^ver see him again."
i^!
■^k^^dp''-
iA
^^■m
^T CARYLLYNNE.
i
45
b.ifgV°tldUTver:r^^^^ would possibly
Her whole soûl cried oût fnr ïf ' ^ 'u ^ ""^^ ^ ^^^O"^-"
after thisonce,tose^r:o1rrfSev\"r' ^^'"'^ ^^^^'^^
looked, was the porttaïof h.r h 'k^^^°"^^* '^'^'^h she
years ago, in the aalknt 1a t'^^T^^ P^'"ted twenty
présent tohis b ide A hf ^ ^ "^'r ^^^' °^ ^'^ ^0"^^. a
ever been handsoL men "andThi/T ' a' F/^^'"^ ^^
womanhad loved her h!.cNo I -^ '^'^°"^' self-contained
love. Now. he too îav^n Rn /h ""''^ ^ ^'T ^"^ ^^^^^less
ago they had laid h^mtlfee llft7Z"^'''\''^J «"J^ ^ «^onth
brought upon hin, by an^'n^t ""^" ^' ^^'"^ '''' ^'^^-^
son^"¥^o ytrraTtL^rSr'^^^' ^ ^"'^"-"^
his departure for rfn Ji vu î-^^^" P^'"*^^' °" the eve of
face of tie lad of f^^enf.' ^'^ /«g''"^"^- The frank fa?
at her from the canva/' ^W^t'h^^^ and yello«r.haired, smileS
doMrn, and turnedkwltii .hTf ^/^^'"'^ ^^"^ ^^e took it
again but it told how mln'the' m " '^V^^ï ^ ""'^ ^^ing
expect when he sto^d S^hls SL''°^'°'^ ^"^" '"'«'^' -
mi y sky^Xteer''' .P^^^ugust moon rose up the
cast bng slamL^f.A'"^'''"^ ^^'"''>' '"^ *he sait seaWind!
high road, as ?rôaf tt fn""' f '''^'''^ ^"^^^ ^-hiteness of thé
tion, a fly frlm the ri- °r" ^^°"^' J'^™ '^^ brightly lit stl '
themoon'litTenuetofe^^^^^^ T""^^ the.^ttes and up
Paid and.dismissed he man Ind n«^T^ "'"^ ^^'"^"8 °"^'
pallidlighttolookabouS On^i 7 ^ '"'''?^"* ^" ^^«
f toodl>e %iast^t^ryé^^^^^^
but his life, and he ho? fe..^nt L"* had changed-nothing
, «uu me not fever of hisown youthful fancy-- -.
4>' i
l^îîfei
^>^ 'Kj>
r^'"
''' ^ ■^.^
•f
i¥
■r:
46
^r CA/iyLLyj\rAE.
the fair, treacherous face of a wonian had spoile.d that for.
c V c r» "
He lifted the heavy bronze knocker and sent the echoes
nngmg dully do^m the great hall. The man who opened
the door, an old fam.Iy servant, started back with a cry of
surprise and delight. «• »-'/ oi
!.' Sure to goodness, if it isn't Mr. Cordon corne back ! "
Mr Gordon corne back— bad shillings always corne
back. don't they ? Ho>v are you, Norton ? Is my morer
^ ^Z^lf ^'' ^°''^°"- ^^ J^er o«rn rooms. You kiîow the
The nmn stared, but obeyed. Gordon Caryll stood in the
long echoing deserted hall, staring moodily out at the-
moonhght, and not at ail sure, in spiîe of his letter, whether
his mother would deign to see him or not. But hîs do^bS
were speedily set at rest. Norton reappeared. .
,«rî^^ "?*l"' '^^ '^^. y°"' Mr.- Gordon, sir. She bids
jou corne to her at once in her morning room.» -
h.rA? T'^^aJ°' ""^ "^'^> she would see him; he had
He ran lightly up the stairs and tapped at the familiar door. !
hand?hrenS;ed'" "°''"'^ '^^™ f^^ "•^' ^'^^' "^^^ -
' r îî°^r^'" f°^ ^°° stood face to face. A cluster of wax^
hghts ht the room briUiantly. In their full glo«r Mre
. Caryll stood. her tall figure .upheld at its tallest. hfr Jido^s
weeds traxhng the carpet, her widoVs cap on her dark, un!
sdvered haïr, her face like a face eut in white stone In
that moment, ifhe could hâve but seen it, she bore a curC
?.t'nfr"? r """"l'' '•? ,^""'^^ ^' ^^ had stood, pale and
relentless. before the girl who had been his wife. •
" Mother 1 .
She made a sud'den, hasty motion for him to stand stiU and "
'^!SJ' ^^^^'kP *«^'° """^ **'* °'^'» as he had repelled his
tnewing his whole fate in that second of timc ^ ».*"«
s^^rUfi
* # '
. -.1
AT CARyLLYNNE,
" Yçu know that he is dead ?» were her «rst words
as «re both live 1 » "^ '" '"'S"* J"™ «> '«"g
■ toT three hundred years." she «wJrl în fi,»* *
of suppressea passion, " thTcaryll hL h^/n k^""^ k°"*=
lived and died beneath thJ, r^of k ^^^" ''°™' '^^^
-^j _r . " "^ *"« «ïeait. He d»ed unfoi]giving you—every
*'
.f:vf
iiii)t'».-''i.
j . tHfh
^^^
■^, -^ ;,.;,f:^'r.^r%:l' S-j^'i ?,rV-v^s^^M
^ /
i h
K
:^
•H
\
< .
■h
i*. -
¥
:^|.H^
■Ai
\«
48
^r CARYLLYNNE.
Not an inch of Caryllynne is entailed-that you Ifnow-^nof
onefarthrng of the noble inheritance that w.s your birt^
right shall you ever possess. The name yoû dishonor is
yours beyond power to recall ; , but tbat alone-ÏTe one
Ïiï fgr "• ■ '''' '''" r '^'^ ^°" "^^^^ crosrthisXeT
Still no reply-still he'stood like a figure of stone.
You say you hâve atoned," his mother went on. in that
W, passionate voice. " Atoned I That meanswu hâve
dragged the name of Caryll through the mi^e andS of a
divorce court-that your story and hers, that lost wretch ik
in the mouths of ail men in Canada and Englàn? Yoùr
atonemerii is worse than your crime.- Your ato^nement S\
as tyour hfeldng No^go! Ail I wigh to say.î hâve
frceTgarnl"'"^" ^"^"' ^°"-^^"^ --^ ^-^ u^on î^
Wl^^^f J?f ^""^^^ ^^ ^^^ 'P^'^^" t^ his divorceid wife I
What fatahty was at work hère ? She ceased speak^g and
Gordon Caryll hfted his haggard face and lobked at hS-to
tîan'rj; te^^^ ^ ^^°' ^° '^^-^ ^^ ^^^ - P- sharper
'a ''^\f^^}}^ ^^ y°" ^^y" he answered, veryquietlv • ««I
don't thmk I expected anything else-L supposa I d^serve
no.thmg better. I will not tîoublp you again. For [he
name I hâve dishonored, hâve no fL-it^Xu be di^
^iTe'l^f -y bearing it no more. I leave it behind with
ail the rest Good-night, mother, and good-by."
And then he was gone. The door closed gently behind
fcg'no^/^^^^^'^^- ^^°-^ ^^^--^^ b^ aKr
'cK^u^7^^ S''?^*^^' white— ashen white to the lips But—
hiif. ^°"&'l°"ely years to corne. She stood for nearlv
half an hour m the ^.ot where he had left her, stock stUL
Then she slpwly turned. walked across the roiiJ Med a
velvet curtain and entered what s^thed an oratory
Over a sort of altar. a painting of the Màdonna d" San S
""'^ g~-ftg_exQm5ite canif- ar^A «u^-i. i-„ . . ■ ^ . .
^^^|y^€opy)-aad^ h eav e nl y t nother,
m
l
j^mSEL
\
-fT* CARVLLYNNE.
49
fort. And this is what she read; ^ ^ ^°'" ^°'"-
was grieved for his son Rnftl? ' "^^^ ^°^ ^^e king
the Wng cned wUh a"-lou^"V^'iL TShT'' 'Vl"^^^
Oh, Absalcm, my son, my «,n r »' ' ^ "^^ ^'*^°" ^
■•
-5ji
;ently bçhind
e alone her
'r-^
TT^r-yr
€F
: £■»>•, V .l^vt-v
' r
CHAPTER VI.
. ->-
GORDON CARYLL'a STOIW.
IIS trial was over, his sehtence was passed, ana
Gordon Caryll went out from his niother's présence
an outcast and banished tnan. * . '^ '
"AU forloye, and the world well lost," he |aid
to himself, with sometliing that was alniost a smile. •'"Ah,
well ! Corne what will, I hâve been blessed. For four
months I had my fool's paradise— ^let that thought console
me, in ail the years of outlawry that are to corne."
He did not leave the hôuse directly. On the landing h«
paused a moment irresolute, then tumed, ran up another stair.
way, opened one of the many doors that flanked the long cor-
^dor, and enterçd the rooms that'had been his own. Only
the moonlight lit them, but that wa$ brilliant almost as day.
With that slight, sad smile on his lips he walked Ihrough
them. Every where traces of his%ead fathef s pride in him, his
mother's love for hira, were scatte<%d with la^Sh hand. More
luxurious alniost were those rooms than his mother's own.
"They will serve for my mother's heir," the young soldigr
thowght — " whoever that may be. Lucia Dynely's littlè son
Eric, very likely. She was always fond of Lycia ; so, for
that matter, was I. My pretty cousin ! It is but seven
miles distant, and there is time and to spare. Suppose I
look her up for the last time before I go forth into the outer
darkness, and be heard of no more V'
He selected a few trifles, a picture of this mother, another
of this "C<ysin Lucia" of his thpughts, a gold-mounted
meerschaum pipe — then with a last backward glance of fare-
well at the pretty moonlit rooms, be ran down the stairs,
"ôut ôf the sflènTBbuse, the grear ijoor xlosed widi a-J— —
behind him, and ail was over.
j ' ■;■.-- - s.;
'-.^
l 1 V- _
Jr '•\/h^:'■■;z'■n^^^^
,/ ^ pORDOlf CiRYLVS StaRY.
park ,ha. „as nevef eo Ki^™ J^" "' '"-^W*'"""*
As he stopiwd for one last lont „ •
woihan 1 '• ^" ™"" = niadness— loving a
gaSp. 'P^r TesTaf ^e Sri ^^"^ '^r ^ ^<> ^
village forge AameSh lur S red S?" i'^^J^ twinkled, the
D^:?; X^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ to his destination,
tonc pile, that long cenLes^^^^^K ^^^^ '^"^^ ^is-
njohasteiy, in the days wh^-^^^ "^^^^ f Cistercian
Triple Crown "heldmiah7„c t ^^>'^ ^"^ Cross and
As he rode at aÏÏllo^ u^ t^^^r^"^ ^" ^^^^^ ^"g'^nd .
the great gray Abbey^eaiîv «Tm '^ -^^^ .^^^^
horse shied at som^whiCobic? .V^?^ his
as almost to unseat hrrider rAr? '''^'*^",'>' ^°^ ^'°'e"%
l-your nervous System like this ? " ^'^^^ ''''^ ^^^^^> "P^'
■ «e threw the bridle over a h-«.A a«^ a ,f-
pawl, stood. ^''' ^n^^^apped in a whiteifleeq?
^Lady Dynely,.. he said. lifting his hat. «good-eveiH„g.«.
M.l'S:±^&
•*%
"w
- -(
-"■.■ri r"tf.'^.-"r* î;^**N.*--'v-T*^*-'î'^?'^T'^"-^''"î* ■5*''*^ ^'-rf ."'''
- ,- ■ . ^ '■■■ ^ -*-:■.• -•■ : ,..,• , "^.-r
52
GORDON CARYLDS STORY.
n«f ^l 'l- '^ ^f^^ ^'°r'^ P^^'"«' ^s though for an evenino
alarm— then, as the unexpected vis tor approached anrf hZ
bnght i.ght of the moon fell on his facef l^e hkd .'uterej ^
yoû'?^°''^°'' ';* ^^^ ^"^^- " Oh, Gordon I Can it^ be
She was a pretty wonian— three-and-twentv Derh-,nc
w. h a fa.r blonde face, a profusion of pa e bloôde hat> a
tall, willom-, fragile figure. The fair face, the plie bîu^
eyes, ht up^now with genuine delight ^ "'
"I, Lady Dynely. You hardly looked for me to-nidit
did you ? And yet, you must hâve known I wc^d corne "
..s hère to-d.y-she said nothiSloVtt' V^h^^n^^l^u
fi JT"^" ^?T^ ^^°- . "^"^ ^^ to-morrow mornina, by the /
.W vn '"' J l"^"^^ "^^T ^°^ g°°^' ^ '•^" the risk of^koYfind! '
ing you at home, and rode over to say good-by Bv the
way, it's rather a coïncidence, but one Augnst n,W /
year. ago, you and I shook hLds anï pt"S o Jtt verî
spot. You were dressed in white that night. toMeme7
ber, and looked as you always do look,^4.Âir SiiiTfâïr"
and sweet, alid pale as a lily " ^ <:oustne, lair
■\hei;S«on'i,tL«"' •"" *eblae,s,a,.led^es fi«d
" Say good-by-^eave for good ! " she repeated. " What
f„ ?' ,? ^ ' ''*''* ^'^n ■"y mother. I hâve iust come
>■!
\1 .
^WJ!lk*QÎHINWU«B!«K'
>a, I remenj-
ïr
%m,^^f]--i . K "'^
1» ^
I
CORDON CARYLDS STORY^
Si
" Gordon— cousin," she said, genilv '*is i> tm» .u-
story ihey tell, that is in the pape?s hât a 1 I nnH ' '^^
wuh before we left ? It muit be lue. and J^t^^^^^^^ '"^^
doM unless you tell n,e with your o.n Ups'? J:^^''^:.
;'TheA I tell you," he moodily answered, " it is true "
" 1 bat you niarried an actress— -in «i r- V f'.,
said passionately, " Lwould tlh seeVou de^d'^" ' ^''^
. "You are not alone fti that I fanrJ" K -^ -u
drearily reckless laugh. " Al tlLame?L^''''^' •''"'' *
the same, tocml havt had enn„!h ^f - \^^ '^°''^ '^- ^11 ,
forone lichSlit fs nw 1.^^^ /^^'T'' ^"^ ^'"*^'-"«^^
the cry against ne %i ' ' "f,'"^,"~^""'^ ^P" ^^^e up
friends always-let us Jo part " ^ ^ ^'^'^ ^^^"^ «"^^
' '^ef's^^:tî:ï'^:-iSt:d^it^tf^^^ ^
gazewas bent on ihe watei-liliè. in th. . j u 8'°°"''
sure,', r p^er 4ir£i„S'ur^ ,T*-', «"^°^-
çe™ed,„b„t ,„„, he;o:'lrsot*S":i;e^re?°V
yo„ seeone looks ra^/ or E« ,han for'i'î^^'r''"'*'
one's niother." * "'*^'^V tnanior justice froral
"But she doés not mean it-
will repent and call you back "
He smiied-^a slo.v, hard, inexorable sniile
willw'fbet'^Slfe"''^^- ?-^-^oneisdone. I
îiame^he only atonement /V*'"'^' f ^"^'^ ^'^8^^^^<ï »he
Sl^e bas ordered TefZLLîZ ""!? k '^ *° «"°""<^ i^-
.nedoesnotwaûTott^^^^^^^^^^^
"%^j
'^^
she speaks in anger. She
^
f '>!
.,^
*!.
./"
$4hH^--.
r 1 J'fil ^*^t.
^•f^-è
&v
Ï4"'
'\fi
■'■•>_^_. ' ' ■■i^'w'f»'
S»Sî%l%»îSl*A«ir«(.w,..-.- _..; ^„
r
'?t "■^' ■■''■■
54
•
GORDON CARYLDS STORV. ■
Oh! how coiild she do ît! Gotdon, r, tôo. hâve a son
my httle Enc. and I love him so devot'edly. si ent're I Z
I feel, I knû«r, no crime he could commit, thoulf KTé
SotLf he' ' '"k^ '-"^^ '°; °"^ ^^^°"^ change'Lt love
Uo what he might-yes, the very worst man can do f
would stiU lov- bifti and take him to my heart " '
Her pale face glowed, her pale eyes lit, hêr voice arose
Her cousin looked at her tenderly. ^ *rose
"I can believe that," he said; "but you see I ucii
and M.s. Caryll are of two very diflferent orders. I never
d.d prefer the Sparta* sort myself, ready to run the knife
"cordon ; T ''"'f,"^K ''^'>^^" ^^«"^^^' ^"d is just."
tle I r/. ??K '"^ ^"/^°"^ '^' ^'^ yo" ? I know so lit-
tle, I read the papers, of course, but still—"
aoie Story. Do you really care to know ?"
" Gordon !"
"Oh, I know ail your affectionate interest in me and rav
concerns faitest coimn,. and I don't mind boring you wUh
«ho , ^'w,°^ *^.°""S fool's folly. Folly! good heaven
ahove! What a fool I was! What a gullible. woXi
hçaded, nnbecile idiot I must hâve been 1 " ^oodea-
"You— you loved her, Gordon?"
J'JIf' ^^u ^ J"PP°*« ,< was love, ihat bllnd and be-
sotted fever her beauty and her witcheries threw me in?o
She was a sorceress whose accursed spells sent everv man
she met under sixty straightway out of his enses ^C
she threw the rest over for me (she had half the battalion aï
her feet) was clear enough. I vas the youngest, the richest
n?i? u ^rT'' ^'' ^" 'r°^°"^°- She turned scores of
weddb;rfn!;,''"^rV° ^* ^'ï*^ °^ '^^^y wWch pgffers
Ter to^mS' J ^^ °°'^ ^%''.^^' '^ *'™«^ w»»en 1 ask^d
K to marry me— you may faintly guess the depth and
brea^th of my i.nbecility when I tell you that." ^
'Shewashandsome, Gordbn?" "'""""'^^
IfL^'^Lr"'^^^^.'^^? h^ndsome, ' Lucia. Sne had a
àeau/i du diable whôse like I ba ve never sp^n-^
-that no man
S^
voice arose
WmW-'
..^r,-
■ ■ ■■■ • ; ■
CORDON CAfRYLVS STORY.
55
cou d res.st-a dark, rlchly-colored, Southern soito>beautv
of the earth earthy. She vvas small and slender whh â
warst you cou d snap like a pipe-stem. t>vo large blâck eye^
hke a panther's, prec.sely, and a smile that sent you strafght
«it of your sensés. AU the fellows in Toronfo raxed o
her-she was the toast of the mess, the talk of the townl
Only the women^ought shy of her-they took her^aUe b,
ntuition, I suppose. Before she had been a week ii
Toronto. Major Lovell and his daughter werë /L 700^ n
ball-room. and boudoir, and barracks '' ^ '
"She îva^^a Miss LoveU ? " Lady Pynely asked. in a con-
str^jned sortV tone. One hand sdlPrestedon his arm and
uo d'' 'inÙ'r "f ^' ^'«"^>^ ^«""^ ^"^ round th"'fish
fffi \ w^ l''^' ^^'''^ ^^«"^ gone she had been very fond
of fier dashmg boy cousin and playmatéè^very fond-S
SIS tedy fondness she told herself-- nJthihg more^ "
the S'/rîn i dreary year enough, with nothing but
the daily dnl the parade, the routine of military lifl the
SrS Catd^n tr P'?h ^'^^ P-vincial Vtat'ion!
with dark Canadian belles to break the monotony. AU at
once she came, and everything changed. Major LoveU
brought h.s daughter among us-and it seemed to nie my
T nv^fi^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^ disreputable old duflfer enough, tSï
Lovell, a drunkard, a sharper àt cards, a rooker at bflH^d^
l.v.ng on h.s half-pay ànd his whole wit . He was a wiS?
w.th a daughter out in Bermuda with her mo^SePs friS^dl'
whodechned to hve with her rascally bld fathir. Hewas
oaa tmies— this time, after a longer absence tl^n uRnai k-
reappeared with his^aughter. ^ T "'"*^' ^^ ?
." He met me one bleak autumn nîght loungiU aimlesslw
idown one of the principal streets, drefséd forflheavf stcrt
Sin^'IS' • P^^^^P-"i"g ^t..the boredom in S^vt
fcing«HmtHed todeàth eveii at thé thbÛghrôfwhal
« in stote for you. Wi»y make ^^artyr ôf yoSrscîJ Q^l
Éïv^ rJê'Ud^;
,^
I : . "^-^^ -y^k ' ^^,f :^î^>%?*^ ^^rr
56
GORDON CARYLVS STORY.
i^'-
\'M
-,V
anceship ? Throw over the bloated timber merchant corne
. to my lowly w.gwam, and lefs hâve a friendly game at ecar e
ril g.ve you a deviled kidney, and a glass of The? y-vou
can drop m at Rogers' when the heavy feedinïs ov^r
Bes.des '-^after a pause, this, and with a sidelW ^^^^^
1 want to show you my little giri-bless her ! Sh|s con^
to^keep house for her old dad at last.' ^ ^
were blaclc or ye>fe,«r, justas the shifting firelight rose o fe 1
^, i- *°°.? ''^"^^ "^ ^ ^^"P^fi^d trance of wonder and a 1
^^.r^ion, the majoi^s fat, unctuous old voice droned in my
"'Rosamond, my child— my youn? friend Mr Parvii
of Caryllynne Devon. England, and Her MajS ;£^
1:1^^^^''''''''^''^''^'^' Gordon, .yb^r-i^^ii^s:
"Then a little brown hand slipped out to me ih,- rt,*
"'"rmr"? *';^ di-Plinglip. smifed .^e h^r *
»ha.f r ,r g T l'r '"v^.^/j -g;!''?'' <^'^" °^ —
.Xr^H'^ -ip- ,
5;
Lovell ? ' I
VVe must tr>
VVhat with
■ GORDOl^ CARYLVS ^TOUY — .**
}
. «"-You djn't like Canada then, Miss
managed to stanimer. ' I ani sorry for thaf.
and change your opinion W it before long,
skating and sleighing, it jsn't half a bad place '*
."She-pouted and laughed like a child. She was
smgularly ch.ldish m forni and face, hardly boking sixteen.
. " Not half a Dad place ! Where yoii grill alive three
simimer months and shiver to death nine winter o^ies Oh
my dear Bermuda ! Where the hearts were as warra'as thé
chmate, and the faces as siinny as th'e skies. No fear of
being lonely, or misérable, or neglected there.'.If papa vvould
let me, I would go back to-niorrow.'
" ' But papa won't,' the major put'in with a chuckle •
papa can t spare his one evve Limb yet. Mr. Caryll hère 1
a.« sure wiil do his best to make time pass, little one.
Hark ! I hear a Tcnocking in the south entry— the othei
fellows at last.'
"Then with much laughter, and stamping and noise,
three or four military men came clattering in out of thé
coid and. damp darjjness, and were presented to 'Mv
daughter, Rûsamond,' ' '
" ^,/°"'' '*»?"' how it was with them ; I can answer tor
mysef-from the first moment I looked on Rosamond
Lovell s face I lost my head. You knowTne well enou^h.
Lucia, the speaker broke off with a half laugh, "to know
I never do that sort of thing by halves. But this was différ-
ent from anything that had gone before. I looked on those
wonderful dusky eyes only once, and said to myself, 'I wiU
wui Rosa,mond Lovell for my wife, if it be in the power
of mortal man to wm her.' *
" 1 lost no time in setting about my wooing. No wonder
the other fellows laughed. They admired old Lovell'a^
daughter, toc, no doubt— that was a matter of course— but
not to the depth of lunacy. They left that for me. I
declmed écarte, I declined deviled kidney, declined the
doubtful sherry- 1 was sufficientlv intoxicated already.
Ihe ,,eerles3 Rosamond smiled upoAje but shyly ; she was
açc astonved to such^» dde n and ov er powering devbtion
-Uinid «ngelj StiU, she did srailc, awj tel me ;Lomi,àn"
f',.
^wt"*^
s&
GORDON CARYLVS STORY.
l^'
her to the distant corner where the piano stood, whik tha
other nien played for ponies in the distance, and the major
with great impartiahty fleeced ail alike. She pHi}^d for me
on the jingly piano ; she sang for me in a rich contralto.
"I can see her now as she sat there that first fatal night,
in a pink dress, white roses in her belt and in her bosom,
the lamplight streaming across her rich, dusk loveiiness.
Paugh ! the smell of white roses will turn me sick ail -ray
life.
** It was late when we broke up, and Miss Lovell, shrink-
ing pettishly froni the other nien, held out her hand with a
soft good-night ^p me. I went out froin the warm, bright
room, into the black, rain-beaten midnight, with head and
hf art iri a Whirl. The others, not too pensive over their losses
at first, chafFed me clumsily, but the hospitable piajor had
bled them ail so freely at écarte, that their deadly, IJvely
jokes soon lapsed into raoody silence. To-morrow evening,
they were to go back for their revenge, and the friendly
major had asked me too.
" 'Though you ^id throw us over, Caryll, my boy,' he
said in his big flebonnaire voice, 'you'll keep little Roaie
froni nioping herself to death. Yes, yes, corne to-niorrow and
fetch her the new songs. She has a passion for music, my
little one, and a voice that would make Lind look to hei
laurels if the poor old dad could aflFord to cultivate it.'
"I tossed fejKîrishly thi'ough the dark morning hours.
♦ Rosamond 1 Rosamond ! ' I kept repeating ; ♦ there is
«lusic in the very name, miisicinher voice when she speaks,
fluisic celestial in her tones when she sings. And to think
that my little white " Rose of the World " should be daughter
to such a confounded old cad as that. But iwill marry \\e,
and take her home to Caryllynne and ray mother,' I
thought ; and I could picture to myself my mother's whole
heart going out in love and welcome, tp her son's fair
young bride. I didn't much fear a rejection — I was conFti-
tutionally sanguine, and she had been as kind as heart could
désire. Unless — and I grew cold and hot at the mère
(ancy— unless she had left a lover behind in Bermuda.
— -^ At the very eartiest possible hour ncxt mornii^ 1
Wi, '>
fl'î'5?Jp|~"*i«i'?'^ S-^'.
t »">» <*,
■^/m^i^'
■■ ' GORDON CARYLVS STORY
All^'h?;oli|tld bes7" Oh ?'' '°" fr'.°^ "- '
" * By letting me corne to— tosee you everv dav Tîv "
I hngered for hours, while she tried over the &c,r^X ^^À
d,ml^ reahzed two facts : that her knowledge of pfano
US.C was but meagre after ail, and that shf had S Aery
little to say for herself. Only dimiy • I was m.,rh i^-^
\t-
■•'%.
;4
;ijtti^/.fJ:-.-.V..?:
j ;
5-7
\
60
GORÙgj^ CARYLVS STORY.
L^y HuleTv'e? '"'nJ^'^' and glared. fiercety ont of I,û
iicry niiie eyes. ' Not to insuit him, surely ! A noor min
he^m.ght be-alas I was, but al.ays kn ofiiL and'a gentS,
liftll^f"! ^^ stopped sonorously to blow his nose. « Very
i-lave I taken a viper into the bosom of înv faniilv?'
Gordon r' old .htrn^bug, melodramatically * V^ Mr
Sne the r ' /"" ^'^ >^'' *° ^ ^^'^^ estate 'and for,'
£^l^^hl^T■°^l" ^""'^"^ ^"^ distinguished line; it i,
âlso true that I am^.but one remove from I ,,aup<;r, sti 1--^
tin^s^o'^t'^h^TH"' '^^''^l!'' Jt^"^^o"t. împe'tu^u y eut.
tmg short thisrhQdomontade. ' What bosh are you talking ?
1 nean what I say, I mean it more than I ever meanf w
thing ,„ .„y 1,^. Insult-nonseifse ! I loveyour S g£
and I ask yoiHto give her to me for my Jfe wë hlvê
known each other but aweek, it is true^ wkat of t at?
Love^is not a plant of slow growth-it can spnn^un Se
the gourd of Jonas, fully grown in a night.' '^'""^"^ ^'^^
m. ï : l ""^^ ^^""^ ^^^^ that'somewbere. It struck
me even at the t.me as sounding rather absurd. and Ilooked
was ?or h^h^dT '■ r Nodoubttheoldvnian •
" 'And she— my Rosamond,' he said, at leneth in a
vo^ce husky with e.notion and 'much whike^un^dt-ln^y
•httle one. who, only a year ago, it seéms to me, playèd ^l
her do Is, and-and marWes, and-er-that sort of thTnl
"non 't' '^' '^J"^""^ ^ ^^°"^^"' ^"'i ^eturns you -L'f;
— pon my hfe, very flattering passion ? '
"I smiled exultantlyas 1 recalled a Httle sceiïe of last
•":
ȕ .
^...~.„ X, wu.uMig miss Kosamond Love l's .two hands in
pSn'^Vnd ?h' 'r', \^!l^P^-î'^l story'Tcon'su t g
^ -^'?^. the hands had not been drawm aw«y ^...itf^
u th. cxqui s itc face drooMm:th;'di;;; li^hr s is
:>.r.
^
'*" '>^-^/iâ'-î4
< GORDON CARYLÎTS STORY. g^
;'«^e.d that .hich had „,ade .e the happiest n,an 6^
sanction. And I hooed h7 J. m^ '^''' "^^^^^ ^""^ his
beihg at once. Urnèed w^^lher^jH^ 'f "^"'^^'^
âge. and two months over-what n.fn ^^
-^ wantedtomakesMreormyprùe. ^'"^ '^ ^^^^^^^ '
consenting at first She wif . "'^"^^ ^ ^^'H "^ ""t
^:as so fcandaously short whr""^7.°"în^*^^"^'"^^"^«^
to be thoiight oX. '""'«er say ? The thiqg was not
Tc^c^P^^Sp'Ï^I;:';^^ ]fl-'tdidit„,.tter«vJ.,.\
".other had no thot?ght b»tTr If? ^"^ ' ^^ ^^^'^^^ ^«d
-consent was ail S ^ut for my happmess ; theirultîftîafe \
world's tOnm,e le"fhemnJ k ^^^' '^ ^e. dreaded the ^
he pleased.^ml in a nZ hf;' P*^"^'"' -""^'^^ P"vateas
could get ieave ôf ab encl 'l an^ "'°"'l?'' or whenever-^
EngJand. When the S^' ^""^ '"^ ^'^^ ^«"'^ «ail for -
out' Marryn/ydldU^ius^^ '
portable, etc., etc ^tc ' ""'"^"^ ''^^ ^^^ irtsup-
\^^^^^t^^^^ i -f ' that ti.e.
that in the da^ ofour first vô^,,^hP'V^'''^ '^^' ""^'- ^^ss
female^acquaintancT? v^Dnli;.! .°'^'^°"'^ ^^^ '^"^ «"e
course, was bridesmLd ^n^%-^^ ^^"sic-teacher^she, o£
-an. Ve were SedTn tK^^^^ o^ Ours,:^as best
aufm«naroiorning,al ôhtheauiet rfr P^'^"""' ^"'^ ^^«^
bridesmaid. ail promised sec^recv & "»"' roonisman,
the cpttage with her father as b/f"- '^'' retnamed at .
the town. I did not write to In ^ ^^^^ "^^ ''^o^^s in
^nough for^all that"î tEh \""°""S^ '«T marriage-tirae .
>2^
>
* fi
would hâve to look io
•»;
.^ ,.*
4-* r *• ;v''>''^'/^J*'f-«^eC(?#<'^P^"«Pi-^
ii :
* 4
f
H,
• *-
{ t
62
""OXDOAT CAHYLVS sTOXy.
; figer The story of n^ S m ^""^ "'^^ °"^ «^^^et no
sf"", I nuist hâve seen thp M^i/^ W'ndness was upon me
But l saw nothiL, susDerflï amusement and contemot
came, ù fell iike a'^S ^ "„& ^"^ ^^^ th.^W
I hâve sa d this «rîrl r u a '""^5"-
J'fe ; she fo4d me to thelL „f ^"k "^""^^"-^^'^ ^o the
Meve her whole heart was nZe "'^'^^JM she mad* me
matrnnonyshe held her dune",» i' ^^^^\^°^^ «"ontJ,s of
he first day. Somethrng^^;:;/^ 0^^ '^^ ^^'yed as on
'east I saw. She looked at ml »? .• ^"^ """^' ''^''A at
feared me; she looked at L - ^^ *""^^ « though she
l"n). The old fellow had taken to'/' f'?^"^^ she feared
ever, had been at death'sdoor^ùt^''," •'''"« tarder jLhan
than once since my miriacï^ «'"h dehnum tremensCre
after^abbled of wh^atThaTCe' " '"' ^"^^ <^ ^--d
. /.vve hooked him sir' fi,» *•
legs, -hooted him I,k/fh„' '"««ingon his rickelv oS
«...pot ïïd^ïlÇ^Slt" ''^°'^^' «' "f !>• T.. a„a I
h;." «.Il, nursed hl„i fairWalfa^d'devoS^.'^^'T'"''' "'h
'"• ^^vrrd'«r:is™3^^^^^^^^^ *"'" "'"•
J B hc wottl4 pfea^^^
I
— *— »
Ji-^ ■
Aii4
.: : .>i • î2|
r-».«Bs»««„.„.
4
f -'*•;■'- ^1 l^f>:'^.^
GOJ^DOJV CARYLDS S TORY,
■•c^
.1, ^s
•keep away— don't eo în vA.,
wants no one but me ' " ""^^ *^*P'' ^^e feyer. «He
fceep me from seeing him Off ^L °'u *"^^ ''^ ^^^ce to
as a ruie he had hif wT abouf him th°n ." ^"/ ^^^'"°"«.-
like a satyr.to the last " ^''°"g' ' and^ould griiT
never cared about her ànd it t^^i^ i '^**'^^' ^hough. 7
^ sl^ame. to go off hooks'' you LTf^^ ^ ^^^'"«' ^ «^"«-ser»
" ' Not tell what ? ' î askerf^^' .""^ °°' ^^"•'
"MVever you n.ind P^a' ^^'°^^-
fastenough. 'C:i„'tSS"ba7sor^H ^^"'^ ''^^ '* -•'
and rm sorry-yes l'm sorry I did i^ ^^^ >^ ^^ou are.
unhandsome triclc 4 one gentleman Vn Y^' ^ ^«^'''«h -^
but Jt was good fun at the rime Th?. ^t^ **" «"other ;
admit yourself. Hu^h-h Miere 4^ ^ ^°" " ^^ ^««-ced to
/ï-^. m tell you ail by and by ' '"^ "°'"^^' "«' ^ ^ord to
to diliS'^t^Stt^^^r ^^ ^'^° ^ b"^ I -t it dowa
eyes from his face to m,;? ^°°^'"« ^"*^ ^^^^k, appreheS
. J^ot/i ng ^^« w,yuld care to hear p •
four months— I was destined fo i?^ ""^«^ness had lasted over "
. "Themajoîsanklower ^nd^'^^^s^ll^again.
near. Rosamond never refthlr'' ,%'ast.hour was
«rove mth ail her migh to kee^Tf,'" ''^"^"'^ ' «^e stilî
wonder now she did not h»c. ' l"^ ^P^""^ ^ sometimes
capable of it. I belleve '"'''"" '^'^ *^°'*- «he was quke
cot.age"\';;f ;,Lriy 'reac;;èd mJ'^S *?""•- ^ '^'^ ^«ft the
.. \.
^^ '..^*l
iï
; • J'if ■
r: iiV-
i.
: -\
H
%
GORDOlf CARYLVS STORY.
«>
able fJepression had weighed upon me ail day: niy wife was
ç4..gdy changea of late ; I could not un^rstarid l7er
Tli* nK.)or was very . low. almos(«at Jiis last. What ,fTe
Aed wrnîe I was absent, Rosamond^and the sèrvant-maid
ail alone. I turned hastily back • I would' S^rJ^
deor gul's vigil I thought-na^, I would c^m^i ^'l ^
" I returned to the house, and entered softly. The maid
servant was alone m the sick room. Miss losamo^JSad
fallen asieep at her post from sheer weariness, and had been
persuaded to go (p her own room and lie don^i ^^^"
T A nu- ,i ^"'.^^ "Sht,' l said ; ' I will share your watch
I don't thmk he wilLiast out the night ' >
' toSar'' '"'*'' "^'' opened-a c^nning leer in them
ourtlfe^^nlD ^^'•^°"' '«y-boy-don't you think l'il last
l/p-stairs m her own room, açleep.'
" ; ^^hat s nght. When the cafs away the micecan olav
Send th^t.wo,nan back to the kitchen-I've a worHr two
for your pnvate ear.' . ^ «* wora or two
" I obeyed. The woman went. " . '
^iZ^fV'"''^ ^^^- ^J?"'' ^^^ "■ g°°^ f«"o«^. and corne hère
u ed And'' r "^'^^ ' fT' S°"^' -"d l' can't ^W as f
used. And I sayMook hère, Caryll ! no violence voii
know l'm an o d mari, and l'm dying, and l'm sSrrï^ .
;.yes, blessed if I ain't-that I ever fooled you as I did^ aÏÎ
the rejmration l<;an make, I will make-that's fair s'urelv
No«vhsten, hère, Caryll; this has been a put-up 'obToS
first to last. Rosamond's not my daughter / ' ^ ^
. '" Not your — ' ^
" I sat staring at him aghast. '
" ' Not my daughter— no, by George ! Mv dauahfpr fh«
T '5 .^?r^^' y°" '^"°^^' •« in^BermudVstl and a
deuced hard-featured young woman-takes after her mother
and wouldn't touch her disreputable ^Id d«i wîth i
'»""■
.»i^
Si--"
i
CORDON CARYLDS STORY.
05
isn't my daughter. I don't know who's dmighter she is
but she's nothing to me.' ^^^^ '
"I sat stunned, dumb, listening. If m y life had d^
bâteinton ^^"r^''''^ '' ^^«' q^rylV the dying old repro,
\-n jTI V ï • '• ^' ^^' '"^ ^^^ York I met lier first-
Zr^y 7°'^' u""'^ ^ •"°""' ^^«^«'•e I brought her hère
Strolhng down the Bowery one night I went inïo a concerî*
rooni, or music-hall, of the lowest ^orf Ro.„ ^^"cert.
<»;fU *u • L ^ •» "* luc luwcsc sort, iiowerv rou<'hs
■ Th I K^^' u°" ^"^ cigarsjn their niouths, vvere S
It was then,\uting there and lookingafherthat de «;
among the feUows St. k^ «oft-headed. soft-hearted foo
fe^fc^^>3rXS^
'•#■
î ■; ' ' ", " -^ ?*Çç> - -^v ,0:- '# r;, j, ^ *i^,-*,,^î«. ^.
.' \ .
66
GORDON CARYLVS S TORY
even then-^e's the heir to one of the finest fortunes in tha
tigate. The thirtg's ivorth trying. Of course whenthi? fi k^
is hooked /corne in for the lion's ^har^ Ècarte's no. «n
unprofitab^ amusement, but there n.ay be better thinîsin
U>is wicked world even than écarte ^
* n /lîml"^^' * ''"■"'^ • ' »^e^-even you must own that. I lost
the œni^TJod'rr- ?""^«d up Rosa.nond" beS
rne scènes. Cood GedJ such scènes! and there and thf'n
• had a longand fatherly talk wiih 'her. She gave me her
sn^rno'rS"^' ' iSf '^^^ "° l^^^-^^' "olieTds to
fr^fk î' relations. She never /w// Iwd a father so far
' t^' yea"s'ri'e '^L'^^""^- .^^-^ of ^mothertd dieJ
debut^ia^rl^^^^^^^ XS rat^r:
«nH */ ^^î î^"*^'"?^ °^ '"J' plan.that night. I slept upon it
and fouild it rather strengthened than oiherwise hv JhLt
' K . J: "^T^ "'' ^"' Rosamond On ,Wte lif^ tv
called her Sally) next morning. in her Bowerl attic! and kid
my plan before her. Gad, Caryll, how sbe ju. ped at ? 1
Her eyes ghttered at the mention of the fini d esses and
gay jewelry-she had ambition beyond her suhere had
w^rV.^'"'"^ f'^^ ^^ un^holesome hght litSatur; and
wasequal oanything. I found her cleverer eten E'an I
had dared to hope-the girl had been more or lels educat »d
at ajpubhc school, apd could actually talk well The nelro
minltrel gentleman thrashed her wLn heîot rfrnnt ^k
bvX fo f '^^ ''^ ^".' u^^»^^™-" atod'tefto ^^ ,' îhlm^
Vnrt A^' "^"*^i ""^ '^'^ ^'"^y Q"a«ier Latin of Ne™
Yor>, and eager and ready to go.
n^l'^^r^K îl^r^ *° "^^^^^ ^°'*^s, Caryll-the thing was an
.l'TK^&^'acTe^SS
^ish fly walked headIoDg in at first sig ht. You m^
■#i--
'fg»^
<?O^Z>QAr CAJtyzL'S STOÂY.
and wonld finish. I held the dHnk r^ K-^'P*"^ ^° ^^^^ «"d
da.ed .o« of .a„ T. too -LX îlfi^e tlS^^^^
yet.
th* bond, but she is. ànd her effhrfc r T^"' . ^^^^ ^^^n't in
die and "„,ake no ig^?' S wo .f ^k' ^"^^ *° '^^^^ '"«
I ani't snch an out-and o^^A^ ^ \ ^^"«'" cause. But
_.when.he's going to die So pL ^^^ * '"a» anygood
•«y boy. and ySu can do as vn„°^f ^ ^ '^'^^^ breastff?^
spoonyon herfi knoVand if^vo„^ l^"^- . ^°"'^« ^«'f"»y
about II-, cf.w t- u .' *"" " you hfce. wir c^., „„.i..- ^ ;
: "<».iicu gins JJke Rosiê— anH où" V . '-'tner nien
Jhnll cry of horrorf riotVkU,\^.^^^^d "P both hands wiSi I
I was out in the black storrf. h l ^^^ "^^^ ^ remember
"Pon midnight. At thât hn ^^^j^î" ^'^^^t- It was close
nooneabrofdin Toront Tw^eel of ^'^^ ^^°™ ^h-'-^:
through my brain, some nahiÏ! "^^ r'f "^^««d crashin»
"Pon me. In a stjpefied watTi?'' ^^^'^^ ^°"-o^ hadfalJef
«nore. And then-a» \nln\l}jT- *=?.n«cious of that-of no
had passed and rhllZ^xSl^^i "u ^"™"^ *° ™e the nLh°
'y«^- And thV ïïs' ;i.T ' î;tf^",yf th, S^
^T
%
■i
s
.. r
•'"•'''♦•^'V. t •♦ï'' ,
^,r.y,^m^m^^
68
OO/tDOAT CARYLVS STORY.
I
.. o! •■ '">' ""■"• <=5oive—to hâve her life, and
n?more, I S (o"Q;e£''r '"■'""'"« Canada 10 relu™
l'iroiigh Québec, of coiir<ie .„, • * ^^^ «tory had run,r
"lade no mention of it anH in?- . j ' ^'^^ ^'»<1 o d eenerni
the Enehanted Palace* -vnAW î"^^ Slfepîng Beantv of
"oi-tal name was Mrs ri /-^^'^^P'-esem instance h!.
/■
^i ^
li^^-*»>'4'fei
/^
^OZ-Z^OA^ -C^JfyZj^.S sroj^y
erthedeardepaitta.
,/^fa'<i; 'hères
^<? blonde^ or>/,^
i^'ke a flash me truth camé
, "'*^ost thrJIing indeedi
. to^rarosnerr *Vhifh are wj
I believe at lir#kl»'i^n • j° "^^ ^een mir wife f
*an,e ,ha, Uuk7JZtS:^î "' '*'''> »f'^^ « Pause ■ « ,h.
<^
ti i
ii
/>
■ ,t.
P- *
70
GORDON CARYLVS S TORY.
put at once. VVhèn pne's life cornes to an end at home it
js well to be of some service abroad. And so, Lucia, mv
s'^d^bSê iTo." '''-' '-'' ''' '"^ ^°°^^>' -^^ ^ooJ
He took both her hands, looking down into the fair
dropping face. ♦
"Andyoïi " he went on, "are you happy, T,uda? You
: arepaleandfrailasashadow. Tellme, does Dynely-" he
t'ISaway' ^'■^" '^^': . ^ands from his clasp, her face'sùl!
''I made a mercenary marriage," she answered, sudden
coldness and hardness in her tone ; " that you knovv Ail
the happiness such marriages bring, I hâve. While I possess
Z P' ^'qJ,7 1 T'^^ '^" "fr^ ^^ """^^y '"iserabll. Gor-
" vJ 1, '^oï^^d "P suddenly, her fair face crimsoning.
"You knew Lord Dynely before his raarriage-you were
with him one autumn in Ireland, were you not ? Tell me—"
the stopped.
"Welli, Lucia? What?"
" It niay be only fancy, but I /lavi fancied Ihere is some
-some secret connected with that Irish summer. It is
seven years ago--you were only'a boy at the time. Still— "
agam«%he paused confusedly.
"Well?" . ^ . % .
Tor/n'^ r' •i' *'"^' "° S^à"° P«^sa"t girl to whom
Lord Pyneljfpaid attention tÏRt summer in Galwav? I
hâve heard a rumor-" for the third time she broke off, afraid.
it seemed, to go on. ^ «^naiu,
Her cousin looked at her in some surprise.
"You knowwHft Lord Dynely is^was, I mean, in his
bachelor days." he said. quietly. " an admir;r of ever; pretty
girl he met whfether peeress or peasant. There were many
handsome SpanislWooking women to be seen that long aeo
summer we spent fishingat the Claddagh. on the ollwly
coast. His lordship adSled them ail, I am bound to sS ;
Dnîî.l'L /^'^ *° "^y* i'^P^ially. so far as I could iTe
Don t take fancies mto your hild, Lucia-facts are enough.
^4mw I musiLgp. 3yJov e 1 h o y t h e t i me i H ia ^ owft h-f
m
have kept you hère an uncpnscionable time in the falling dew
.xu iCj>" *ïftS.
t'iS,.^,,'n
ï\tL'J,"j}> -"V^Ai*^
î*i>*j
^''■t, 4
-• "3
w»"»* # +i'^
home, it
ucia, my
nd good
the fair,
? You
y— "he
face still
sudden
vv. AU
possess
le, Gor-
isoning.
•u were
me — "
GORDON CARYLVS STORY.
more, good-by." ^°'" '"^- ^'"'^6
hefcl^^et" tetotiudtnlv' .'^"* '°"'" ^"^ ^°-hed
" Oh Gordnn ^ fuddenly mto a passionate sob.^
goj.. ' ^°'^^°"' ^°"«^"' "breaks my heart to sec you
Hesniiled. '
" It is best so," he said.
-«41
»«
s some
It is
3till— "
as
:-^
whom
ly ? In.
afraid,
in his
pretty
many
igago
ralvtuiy
>s4;
i see.
lough.
'4--
.«<>
».,'
•^
•
#
• ( ■
-
, >"'■■■':
-
■ • ■
■■*■/
«
«
,i'-i^\u-
ÉÉëft^É^
iÉAic
.
MMMWiieMiii' 'jjiw^iny ■^m^mmmmm^^^
±.:'-^
I ^'
II
■ .Si- ' "
t^.
CHAPTER VII. «^
HOW LORD VISCOUNT DYNELY DIED.
?ALF an hpur had passed away, and still L^.
Dynely paced slowly where her' cousin had ifft
her. heedl^ess of fallirig dev.. her thin dinner dress
danip and heavy ' already in the night Tn fhf
days thatwere gone she had be/n very fond pf her bov
cousin, three years her junior in actual years twentv in
Thou^ :n °'" '°^, ^'"^S'"^"^- There hadTev^r E^^^
;f°"ght of love or love-making, marrying or giving in nm
K'.nH rT'^''"^°' '^'^ ^^^ givenVisfount Syndr
her hand of her own free will, and yet, die sharpest keeS
he"^fir!/h*"'i Jf °"«y she had ev'er felt, she h^d feU when
she first heard of Gordon Caryll's marriage Not a 3^
fierce pang though, after all-lt might iave been ^lidS
her as of Lady Jane, in the poeni : "* °'
" 5^'"?^^ *^ ^^^' mUk-white her skin :
bhe has not blood enough to sin."
Dynely and twentfeth Baron Can|erdZn Sh^'hln k"°'
taken up to London at eighteen. auTpre'entedttr kfnT
woman the Countess of Haldane. She «ras tall \Un.Z^
r ?? A T ^Jl^*" '°^'P'^ *° somè tastes, but she suiteS
LoM Dynely. Hecame horaefrom a yachting cruisearoùnH
Norway and the Hébrides, presen.ed himself sudden,^^^
Vanity Fair, the most désirable prize of the mail Sl^.
«onsand estâtes in four counties a viUa aiTv^ u^"'
' :'^^''-'^^''
\.
'./jêi'u'^'i*'-*
■jÈ^^Lx^^i^^i'^i»
•-vwtmmmn\^v^,^-<W^
like a perennial golden river R« ^ 1 ^^
Jongbeen angled for (his nobl'e I^H k'^^' ^ P"^* ^hat had
fortieth year). niaids aid Woni h h '^ '"^^ '" 4 ^ve-and.
and set ^heir wigwan,3 l^'^;:rion/aï/" theXarpain ,
for I ,m. But in vain : .his «i& , "1^ ^"^ '"any A day ago
.^dmired ail, ballerinak as^feu ^""g « notelt' g"^ '
actresses more than duchesses 4,^^-^ '^^" bLnes^s!
he saw Lucia Paget bv no itf ."* '^'^ «^^y came\at last •
and after his own^' '„p^tuou?ai ""' ''."^"^^ «^ thetasc^^
catjon was concenied^K /„ th^l^'*"^^ '^'^ ««mLatifi!
and surrendered at di;creS^ Jjf ^onge to Fate at'Vnce
and the wedding-day named h.? ^IT'^à' «^as acceL^ed
Çoverits breath^ It was h. i^ ?^ ^^"'^>' ^^^'' coul re
msipid nonentity-thlf Kl A ""r""^^^ ^'^ *e day— tCLir
^>5a/ did he sef in £ ? ^^' ^"^^'^'^"^ ^ worn^ut ro?" '
'>': fee^^^rL?^^' -^ fWn W haTdLrJ
■ "h: wt v^Tr!; ^f wert^^frt^^^ '-'' ^^-1^^
yet loyal hère. He took itr oS /^ " P'-°''«'-'>, i|e was
then returhed to Endand «,?.? u ® Continent foràvear
Lord Viscount Dynelftas th "r '^" "'"«« Enc "^S
r-^e most devoted^rCblnâ: °l7V°''"^^^^r^^^^^
\ son a change came over him R . ^T*" ^^^ ^'^h of his
;nto moody, darksome rêve Ss h? H °°'' .* ^^'"^ ^f falli„ '
unpleasant hints of some S doi„t°^P\^ "ysterious ^5
gloomjly of his infant heir^d f om^L'" -^^ ^J"'"' ^^ «pS
«oman's nainéin hisdisTS^ÏÏi "" ■»*• He sMire .
■1
4 ^^^'^ nwr^^nd more afiid of Hm
r
■V , ■
■M^
s*
M ^OIV LORD VISCOUNT Dy^^lY DÏÊD. .
' ' ■ • j / X -'
as the years went on. Years didgo onJ Eric wâs five • tlj^s
secret, whatever it might be, wa« Lord DyrieVr secret ^tilL
Only once he had said to lier : ^ • ^r^eir s secret stUL
.«"il"^'^ if I, die before you, I hâve somethinii to tell
bed confessions, 4on't they ? Oft fjie princîple; I ^,ppos-.
•n.,««i • ,. , ■' \"'*^ "• " *" interesting trait m. the
Dynely succession thdt we alwa^s ar^ eut off in a hurrv) it
he LT'I^ ^'^t' "" ^'^^ same/There's one consSk,n,''
andïbore fc^^^^^'S^'^'^^fj'"^^^^ "^^^ never cared ov;r
Sëuien^s J^vTm k""^' *u^ '^^'^ y°" '"^•"^i^d ^"d the set-
thé rh.n.J ^ " ' T *^^'"' y°" '^no'^» to the end of
^e chaptef, so you won't break your heart."
ina n« '^''''''^^ ^^^'^ ^°g« ^"<1 walked moodily off, say.
d"fate3 Te^'/Î^'^'' ^'^^ "^^^"'"g ^'^'^ P^'« <^heeks and
e hlr mSn ^"^ "îî questions. She waS not strong,
- V^A ■ f "i°"5' «^'th almost cowardly fear. If Lord Dynelv
iShL A. tTîîT'' T^' ^'■""^ °^ "^^ »° talk of mak-
hâ w^- ^ ^^ ^u^ ^^^^ ^'^ ^•■^a^f"! masculine secrets in
lue, let him keep them in death. '
left he^^îni- ^ri^ *'''"'''"« '^'' ""^^'^ Gordon Caryll had
wL robe? h ^- 'k^ r*"^ 'P'"* °^ ^he raoonlight in her
T^ t^. ' î^' ï«^t, floatmg hair, and colorless flce. And
even while she thought it, the messenger was drawing near
to siinimon her to hear that secret told • ^
hJfU^^^u!rf'^°''^ chiming loud^ eleven awoke her from
^hni •vW"**'*"*^^- Shestariîd. How late it was. 3
naa telt of cold and danip, and turned to go. But she
stopped for the sylvan silence of the sumnS nigh waS
oudly broken by the ringing clatter of horses' hS daT
ng up the apnue. Was it Gordon coming back? Luîe
-norsG 41^1 ..Ucr came in view ; Tfié min ëspied îwranà
\ ■ \
h
1L._.._ t
./\''
l^i^s
»ru w:'.;,..:ii
l'^vtp
th«
t '
mW LORD VISCOUNT DYNELY DIED. , 75
'«Whatisit?"sheasked.
eu '"^^'ship was m it, and ." ' ' ^
|;WasLordDynelyhurt?"sheasted. ' .
ror "J ;i|ï:'= '" *' '"•=™P'«i- "«r vpice sharp wiU. *.
ôiie turned from him and ran to the house On th^ »,„
evening-dresï oui on Sr tîT *. ^"ï "*^*'* ^^" ^«^ '^«te
lujnedte Atdtnl:;3;rcïi^^^^^^^^^^
taraed into an adjoininir loom-^hL «.LÎT „u ° ^'r-^'^e
lïoy=
\iL
"""."ai
Tl^e night-light burns low^he Ues in his downy. Uce "^
#
"«*
mi*
M
:^ISfti|
j^^!ΫT.'i,4ç^f«jv;
^♦.1
gied dimpled h|*golde»cut|s falling o
*^*P- «le slOQBlËîind kiss( " '
'11"
.dent, 4e fiSed rian^ w- ^ 1^'"^"° *^^*^"^ «f the accj» • •
■ > .kt«ifs by .h, Mside. Her da k dS^Sy sfos off lf.°" ^"
dress, Ker soft laces h«»r fii,; ^i^o*- t* • ^ °"> "®'^*''^>fe
\^ ^<'r-s,aSd^^^^^^^^^
^ .apeaksa Word. » "F"" ms lace. bhe never »
Jle li» arid look, a. her^ ,«g, „.^,,, f„^^^
;'ïamdymg,"hesaj's; "rif knowit i Vn., ».„ ■ .
^ — __ .,.. — .__^__„_...™„_^„
fa^.
\ , ^|
\ \
'î it
'm
is li^idly .
! proppÉ^
dless 3L^à.
' the accâ» .
is frowrt,
s on her -
ler white
itrangely
>in head
eyes fix
le never »
owning
wronged ràost B« yo„ Ln h^^^ f^l^!'^''^ *""' •"="•
sh^doasyou see fit iS°n d!Ïw n=i " °"' """'' """ ^°"
o^ne bends doser above him «« ♦ -i u . ^, .
Glauber, thp doctor and Mr À.fni 'f, ^^''^'f *^«"g«- Mr.
easily, looking at their watchê JnS '^V^^"-' ^'""k un-
sible Lord Dvnelv ?n hf» f f ' °", ?"^^- ^V* ^"'te 'n>Pos.
Presently Mr TexTan f«^i k ^''r,''^"^*^^ fallenasleep
He opens the doo° an^S'^^oe^fn ïorTA" f'^^ ^"r^^'
back aoibng his pillo^-s de^ fî;^ f "^ ?^"^'>' '^^^ ^^"«n
his.face; 4 lad/S^ne S" bfi^^^^^^^ .
upnght,.aswhrte, ascold as thn.. J,?., j 7 ~~^^ "^^' ^^
"My ladv !" S^° C ^ ^"™^^ ^^ stone.
Lady DySl. J ierfnf "°' ■^^''^ °' ''''• "My dear '
tone. ^ ^' ^'^ '^^'^"^ ^y^ ^» an uoutterably shocked
and catches hersas So'? ^!?i' ^^^ ''"V^L^^^ unstekdily,
b«dc, and faints wj!"''^"' '^^^Jl^ «^""^ «»»« »«Ps heavilf
^■'*
« l"
, *> . "
IT
.•^«isi
,h4^v*/^. ^^«r
■*v .
"•->>■.
«K,
'■'M
A' V ^i
.^.^\ t V-.; ^Jk
5, >«i*f ii,"^- 1
^ -
fi, )
a*'
».
%
PART SECOND.
CHAPTER I.
IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY
[HE brilliant noontide of a hn'ii;.,»» %r j
r
AcMemy. ^ ■ " "^^^ ''^^ °P^i"g day of thc Royal
"a mob is a mob thouïh J! ^nd gentlemen, but hen
dilettante- ookW sVeuf ^2T^ 1 ^''^°^''" ^"6"^^.
long hair, and pfcturTs^e 7aces • ï? crS h^l"'^'". ^'*^
ciUnhand; academidX r^îL; • ^"^^ ^"^'^â, book and pen-
dealer^ n^^ki^X qu ™
• to s>oop ; statlly do24e^ "weeniL t? "^^n P'^^°*^J^
mi^nd.n,se compleS J'âc^SSr^"^^'^^ «'^'^ -"N
théi^eS^CiaSërSiSr'^K^^ ^^^^B four asi
through.thT I^^£^g^"X>-'^° ™-^ slowly;
trfctedconsidèrablelttS cLAÎS' *"''"' "^^
. proacKkig middle ace. a fair nniï^ ' -^^ ^^'^^ "^^^ ^
^ woman, 5ith a stamS of hih ' ^t ' P^'^sive, /ojj^ loofcing
eveiy ckrelSs Se ^ï °° everyfaded feature, il
e-scort was rîcf? Si vei^Jr''!f î***,?^ attraction. The
vciy tall, veq. broad-s houldergfaejy powexfu l .^^
; \.
'^
ilùuél
!^
> /
>y was
f car-
of ail-
Royal
L jOSt-
then
guid,
Vfith
pen.
cture.
ently
rainsj
withi
iras/
yyvlyi
at-i
^Pl
î, m'
rhe
^
\
• /
^
'4
/AT TVSœ ROYAL ACADEMY.
79
looking young nian, niuscular Qidstianiîy personified with
a certam m.htary kir. that bespoke his calliVrÀTck. Tè I
dish beard and mustache, reddish, close-crop, ed hak arid
Sri' ^n; g°°^-?"'?«'-^d eyes. m was riot' Jhe attraction
f S ^;""'^°"ï ^^^l '^as as w€ll known about town as
Landseer-s couchant lions around Nelson's pillar, in thi
square beyond. It was the thiri^of the trio, a girûaU and
f^^r^^^f very graceful. w-ith a figure that'waf rLreîy pSr
fect, and a way of carrying herself that was altogethef^i,m)e-\
ml. A dark beauty, with a warm, creamy, colorless sk n
w/Th ^T^^y^^ a profusion of hazel hair, armnged A?^
«^^A a iiandsome, dec.ded, square-cut mouth, and a gen-
eral air of imperious comi>,and that said to ail ^
]'Incedo Regina I **
{ I move a queen."
She was dressed U passant, as it were, with a careless sim
&e a^rf'^^f &f rr "' ^^e*^ ^'- An IndLn i
iTce Jîth W ^^T:; roses-on her head a touch of point-
K^' Tu Jf * ?"^ ^"°^ ""ose over the car, and in her oearl.
kidded han^a buy,cH of the same scented yellow rose?
A çoveyWidle,el^ant dandiesof the Foreign Office and
guardsmen Jounging !n one of the door-ways,^puY up the^
/' Something new in Vanity Pair," one said. «and the best
n'o ô^e te"ill""T" """^^ "^"^'^^^' aS^one?"
air" ^Thlre" 11 ""Zl^^ 1^°" "Y' ^^r'^^- J°^« ' ^l^at a régal
airi ihere is nothmg on. the wal s~not a nvmnh or aaà
dess Cthem àll. with a lovelier face. Who is sh7? " * ^"
-^S J°"^»^^"'mi:^<Jy J^ynely." remarked a third.
u.r i • ^^^^P^T^y Dennison. He bas placed them
nas _^lett them. |Jëre h^ cornes. I say, Dennison I who is
■t»-!
V
tl!
•'1
'V/ %
J^S
3-
wW.fcA«^ ^° «"^sfeed W/nénnisoiv,tTie sindy:^^
whisk^red younfi|p, apWhing. « ' Who » ahe ? ' iîS't i,
f'*
..'•
M
>."""V',/''.
* "T
«0 i «r TSB, KOVAt AÇAIlgj^
«"Às^j-eare not to kno" ,"_" ''"'' '"'» ^ep. yoo, ej-e.
«C*?""^ "" ''°"'' ™»' ^^ 'V.o i, .Ha.
ï^orresigr." -^"^ "«an, w jt? That girl
anin-
is
Wer naine is Fran^*. t? . "^
.wered catal^ M, De™lS"~J ")'<"■ '"'' « •«"er." .„.
the mysieries a little^d nS ^n^ °^^^^ ^^^^- Open
"^ei^s no Jfôre ""r^**^" WP^e." Jl - * „ ^
a^mreâ;convent,andthe"eshfH^f"'^'. placed her ^
W\.he died, left her a forZl T** """^ ^^^ was fifteen
gardian. That ^a7Îh%e ïlnr' *°^ ««ade Mrs. Caiy £
■»i'i
(«f . '^
5! . %_
conveyed to'the
' ;/.' W^ '
H
' 1 ''
/AT TVSri? ROYAL AdADEMY
.'ti
8i
i'en^t seen anything
i^hat with inadttin<
of the head, and
wa«
Eternal City. Until ttwj «ontlîs ago she moved and had h*.r
beinç there-noMT she has corne ^ver. t J œme out under fhe
?S.i h '°™"«^h'-'?ay?Terry. with a sudden sensé of iniurv
"the thermometer is high. and I tlp't used to it." ^ " ^'
Ihe F O .?,£^""'f'' «^'■«l'iaway, and the four men from
"Safe to make a hit," one said ; "h
8o thoroiighbrçd for three àeasons.
ojselles beauty and grâce, and f/ia/ pois» of the head and
-two fortunes tackçd to her train, and hertWent7auarterilu
^^^Ï'^K -rnf""^^^? ^^™''^' 'he ForrestTrsrshrS S
e a bnmânrmatoWiefQre the season ends.» ' ^
itr^i ^•i î • ^^''°.".*^ ^°^^"^ always Win the Derby
îîSr '?i''^"'^''r''""-'^^ ' ^ say, Castlemain I Yoù
^ri^^~?'" ' '"^"^^ ^ ^°" î" that faniily once ?"
r«.î •^P''y"~:'''''">' finefellow-knewhimat Oxford"
tS S?;"^^"^""^' "^<>'"'"i««oniû theRifles-lo^dstory
that-Mxteen years ago^aU over and forgotten for S
«PeadP'Vj
" Don't kîiow-all, the sarae— extinct Made a horrible
mesalhance out there in Canada-scandàl~dh.orce-ex .
?a"tf „rJf"V° India-never fieard of more S^;:^ f
--fate of ail of us by and by. Deuced slow this." strue- ^'
ghng with a yawn ; "I say-lef s hook it." ' ^
f^Jr. J''Z^^^^^°'''' ^"' °*''^" ^aJ^e their place, and the
men, one Ma", turn for a second look at the fa r proudU
boking heauty With'Lady Dynely, she still stands whëî
mde^'tr 'hfe *'^™' r "l^^ ^'^^ Picture thaT'S;
«S^ .A T^^a^g" Square— it is marked in the catalogue
No. S56—B0W The Night Felir »^wiogue
.rriMî Kft * ^" ^"^'''^ f *^^"^- "^a»^ d^J^ hi"s in the back-
«ot Uiese dark hiU-sides. A broad river, with th- to«» -Zi
broad river, with the tast rej
i
A
I.
pifth', f
^r
tW
1 . ■ r-
82
/AT THE ROYAL ACADBMY.
light of dying day ghnting along the water, and over hill-side
SLh Tr ^""î fl°«'«"g river, the gray darkness of conSng
night shutting do«rn. On the river-side two figures stand a
inan and a woman. One red gleam fron, thf western sky
au white and drawn with woman's utmost woe. Passion-
ate despair looks eut of her wild eyes at the inan who
îpiiîl ""f^ !;"• ""k '*"^/^^ <*" 'stretcheîîn'^onL'S
Sfn • ^t '"*"; ^"^ standsand looks at her, one hand
Î^Ia Ï ?"^^ ^' '^ ^^^"» *^*^^ ^ff- Hb fac^ is pa^tly
Se* hi h T "^^ ^•^^'^ î^! ''^'^^^ *»»*' ^^^ shows. You
Si M.. •''°°"u". '5^'^** ''*'y*^"d rédemiîtion. Over
ail, the creeping night is darkening land, and river, and sky.
The two ladies gaze in silence for a Unie-Lady Dynefv
looking weary and rather bored-Miss Forrester's fine^eyes
'^'.^.^:^^: °'""'°^ ""'^^ ^'^ ^^'Wd, the ex^res-
" It is beautifal," she says in a low voice ; «there is noth-
,vi o' 1 '" '^^ '?V'- ^^ ** ^'^^^ '^«"derful effect of
hl .?r A^ r""^""? *^«' and slanting along the river, and '
^e gray darkness that you can ahnott /^^/there beJond
Those trees are tamarac-can it be a Ca^adian sèene "
How The N^ht Fell,"' she reads from'lgr Staffie*
«t^.»k'nc"eTi '"'^^ '^ ^^'^^^^ f ^'^^^ ^^^'
rJr^l& ^"""^^'T* H-m-m~a new candidate, probably.
Certamly I must know him. In Rome, we-Mrs. Caryll and
D^red^^'^.Tit taking u^ evéry young artist who ap-
peared. She was known as the patroness of art. Our rooms
on our art-reception nights uUed to be crowdéd. -The man
who pamted that is a geniu*,"
/* Mrs. Caryll was the patroness of struggling artists for
ïl? IT"; \f^n-^' '°" .^^ * devotee^âar^t once him!
jelf,^and studied for a year in Rome befoi* entering the
rJ,lS" Sli' ^"^ Ffn-ester repeated dreamil* «Ggrdon
GuylL Pfechaps so, she very seldom spoke of hSi, poor fel-
V,
j^
tu THE ROYAf. ACADEMY.
p'cture through her closed hand ; « there is a fascination for
me in the auguish and despair of that woman's face. /A
beautiful face, too. I wonder if the artist painted Wspictiyb
fromlife?" j '
" My dear France, no. They ar% ail imaginary, are they
net— suggested by books, op sotnething of that kind?"
" Ah, I don't know. Artis^ and poets, and novelists, ail
tiibi theit' sorrows to account in thèse latter days," says Miss
Forrester cynically ; ♦• they paint their woes in oil and water
colors, Write them in hexanieters, and niake money of tijern.
Lik^ Lord Byron, if they weep in private, they certainly
wipe their eyes on the public" •
. '" My dear child," says Lady Dynely, looking shocked,
" where hâve you learned ydur cynicisms so young ? "
Miss Forrester lauglied.
**I ani but a débutante," she answered gayly, «not coi je
out yet before the foôt-lights ; but I hâve seen a deal of life,
I assure you, behind the scènes. Hère cornes Terry." She
glances over her shoulder. " If the artist of ' How the Night
Fell,' be présent, Terry shall fetch him up and introduce him.'^,
"But, France— " ?
Miss Forrester laughs again — a very sweet, low laughi
She is unlike raost English girls— in fact, she is not an Engf»
lish girl. She has her French mother's blood and vivacityi
as well as her dark complexion, and dark eyçs, with somet
thing of the frank-spirited independence of an American girL
With thèse and her late Roman expériences, she is a bùndW
of contradictions, and a bewilderingly channing whole.
"But, Lady Dynely," she ra^cats, "I warned you fairly
m Rome what you might e^wctiwjen you consented to be-
come a martyr, and bring ri^orjijf I hâve had myown way
ever since 1 was born, and jCtWay» niean to — jf I can. I
hâve lived in a perpétuai atmosphère of artists for the past
three years— the long-haired Brotherhood of the Brush havf
been «the playmates of my youth—the fiiends of my
bosom.' " Hère, catching sight of Lady Dynely's horrified
face. Miss JForrester breaks oflfand laughs again, the sweet»
-T|>irank estt me rries t l au gh, that eve i^jc ame i ro m ro s y 4Îps^
"Wbat's thejoke?" asks Mr. Oennison, sauntering up.
• ■ ;.*•
83
/.
•' ■^<!4
'■Il
rr.
«4
y^r TffE ROYAL ACADEMY.
timedmerriraent, MisTForTS" ' '/° ^^""" >'°"^ i»"
" • '*V.^""y»" says Miss Forrestei- «,l« i
ist?" i-orrester, do.ypu knp^ the ar-
very fair n,an^ Crops 4 haif .L "î^^^
artist— more of the he^v^ï-J ' "^ '^''^'"^ ^^o^ like ao
•See him ?" heavy-dragoon eut than anything else
^^^^'^T:^^^Vf- She sauras Terry
• and beard, a compTe^^n Lroice LS r'*^ .^'^"^^ "^^'^
two grave, gray eves anrlTfK^ ûi ?"^^ ^° g®'^en brown.
^ man Iqoki'.! everfdky of hi tevfnll?K^ ^^^"' '^^—^
particularly handsome foce perhap: E^^^^^^ ^''^^ ^«t a
hiced, , Whether Miss Fo;rr^S^\Srort\^
M. S^.K^''toSr' Ta^inte^Àtively. ^
' whoni the acme of nii *°J'^^^ '^rge «// «^^wrJSjass to
looking:- '^";" °^ "" P"-^'^^ «/ '"O'-tal beauty iHfo' bad
•>r?^^1:ttes';S ix'^'jy P"-- Dennison.
«•ght be the pet of the pet fcôats anThir" "^^ ^.°^^' «^^
Picture, but he won't. Lives for hi, i '^^'?" ^^^^' ^^at .
know. but doesb't ca/e for wo^en '' "''~^P''^' ^^»°-> /«^
introducThS"'"^"'^^ B""« him up hère, Terry; and '
"Frahcel" ' , ' -
\
.»♦
i,;.v, •'l "^*""ë aeocient, Mi
« jJP '^^'5 and introAice him " ^ . * * —"' """S
/bur'Se'S;^^:^^ î^î ^^'i^"- ever donc te'
Jjan I Do let him be^"^ ^ôoi the h^'''^^ *"^ succe^sfil ,.
thôse painting fellows in Ror^J ?.'''''' ^°"™ade amonàlr'»
.lî*
^■^■*>^
c
J
"^l»
-t
«' .>
\
n
e
w
fa
c<
t)i
m
pomt ^^ jfflv é J
T'
' , ,\ ■
.1
■jê
^.
'"ifi^'r
lAT THF. RohL ACADEMY
\
,'♦
te ,
rîr*
i
A
«5
^ noble army of martyre I "• breathed, to her
• fe.l'hX^'l^ockL'îr^l';.' ""' ^'''■' "-"'O y-' '»■•«>.= and
.' seconds, and t/e deèd is die ' Sn '''^'='''"?' '°'' «'=
*.*'"xio'ctr^ =^?w-t":k.r,&aS:raro"nc ™"' "■'
■4J^,f™' "'«-•-." «ys Ter,y,n>eekly;,..hany,I,i„g
l^erry Denhtson, from the altitude of his «» fi.», i i.
dbwn upon his dashing little suDerinr^ffli "1 *^^*' '^>*^k«
._i%^.h.ùneeye^„;JlrS"^^a»-
«e of «nringajîd bting^ pre«n.ed ?* '^ f "","" ''"^
«
1^
«M
81004.'
>,
• .^
^é] ■
IL
'%•!■
-• >'^^
¥-„ ■*>'i;r'<^^ ïT'If "^ ■^^*''> «■?r*^ ^^
h
w.n really be confefnng a favor fn °ï^ '''°"'^"' b"* y°"
J^ady Dynely I mean of course L n • ' '"«^^"ce. She-
of art and artists. Never heL^'L^"'''' ^''^ °" '^^ «"bject
sut^t pf that f^ictureof Jours - ^'^ «ercised as on the
^-if^^l^V::.^ -ci the ar.-st
and bore him off in triunapr « '''' "™ '" ^is own,
Forrester.»' ' ' ^««^'^s'ey- Mr. Locksley—Miss,^
Locte, "n^i^^areta "'.^ "IfT" ""'"y" "r.
derful-wonderfuC ha<^^ "I ' jr" >S?,- B"' « '^ «n-
yo..rn.odel,MKLocksIey?" ^'">«« did you fi„d .
h.s,oice and face k, oddiy fa„,îlii J' t^^" "" l'ère in
and bearded, was not like ITl^LJ^^' '"«• ''^"«d
He stood ealk ng to France PnVriff *?.,'"'e«', yet slill—.
of a Keswick a ower showS "^'^ °J'»''>'' ""ère waa talk
l^cksley, let me congramla ë ,0..% "^"'î' ''"'"«•
•hipiP. I hâve Jn.f?xalfes ST'Z '^ ?™ «''«er
>h.ct i ^^ ..., ^^;;,p;« of ^X-^^^'^i^^^^o^
%^
tkifÈtJk^i'
Tv
T'.-?^-^,.
/^ ra£ ROYAL ACADEMY.
«7
myfr ends ™ Sh. .T' r'^K^"".^'^^ ^^^"'"^ *° ^««^eive
^rlT' ,^'«.\*^o"-ester murmured some last, eracioug
..ntlSr.N^"?'' '^''?;''''P '**'^'" '^as her remark, as thev
entered the barouche and were whirled away • « J^ave von
ever met tbis Mr. Locksley before ? " ^ ' ^°"
h.r \ !if ^ "^''^'' ™^* *^'"- Locksley before, I am quité sure ^'
bhe hésitâtes a moment-then answers :
"fone who must bave died, in exile vears airn \Vh««
he sitoke first, it was the very viice of GoS cSkU.-
^
^
/'
V
•\
i -i
•é
tr-r ' %'^~f '/ I
,. ^^ .,, ,, .^- ,^ -^,.^^rtyif*7»7«-"^r^'i^f^
' ■ 1 ^-"
*■ ,..«-.
CTHAPTER II.
-^
>
*?
TERRY. ... .
^"^tt^^iM^ soft pn.„,se
pots~-a few stars duster Ke^bL^ 1"'^^'^ ^'^''""^y-
over the streets~the '^pea soô„ '• ^' V^^'veryhaze hangs
tKese West -End stuccoed^p^^T^s l^f^^T^ «^^"^^"'- «' '
The room in wWch Xady mSv ^LPu-%'''''^^ ^°*n.
an âpartment as beautiful and eleà? "'^^^^'"8 ^°°'"' ^
/païnted «» ^«f/^^;. i,^;;"^!: J*^' P»c^ure is a portrait
( dear no other^ictu e n,u?t le Jtf.^' P^f^rait we/held o'
tratof Eric Alexis AIbS«!i\r*^®™P*"'°"- It is a por-
first Baron am^eâown' °'^ ^'«^°"nt Dynelyrand^v^eS?;,
«ost casual observer If o„lv fn^'f'^^ ^^' «'"k» he
„artist haij«ostXssîV L«ifJ K**' t?*"*^' «i*er the
t ^ / «y. 18 ,an uncommonly h»fldtome nfiûu T|Sg
^
V
^i^^fe;-
-^
T
*
* *
«
. . . •.. 4
.\
.. .
■;■♦.
k-} • ■^.■,:2.i\ <i
*f'-
]
teéhy.
89
..f
>
vats of ail ■ Dullocks, and the broachmg |f niighty
of ter IS andL";'''J f^^>^ gh^^ng ^t is not altogether
majonty at hand~is he not to marry tr oet FTIni^ p "^
aîdst had r •* *'^^JS'"^ ïmpatiently back his fair Hair, M,is
\2Z^''\^^'^^^^ ^' ^* °"" a*^he sitg hère Iftat W
nsn-|xyf . i, a aherf of sUvcr %ht tt^ihett-feet-shé se^^ fe?l
%H"^tmgîtalongsli^ the yeï^sIS^^
90
TBRRY.
Ijjci,*»
*^^
cousin she loved i^cniaps wiiat had |Mce been the
to hear, that, in the soft waSof h?^ ^ ''°'''^' '° ^'^""^^'^^
rom-head to foot as sL Sf^^^^^^^^^^^^ «he shivers
has stamped its i.npress upon i?l heV'fter 1 fe ''""^^ "'«'^'
' ThttL^rarstll^^^^^^^^^^ ™at can. after.
allJierhttfeaïnre^ed"^^^^^^^^^ but weeping nota
People wonder a little atthir, Ln ' Y^'^ °^ f ^P^' ^"d
would hâve it so-^„: t pas raiV"irh . "^^^ "^''^'^^^
band and shoukler-knofc of rrl^T i ^u^*"/ ^^^ ^°'"" o»" the
batjy viscount, and had cauiffht^ ^'^'ï^^ "•^«^ ^^e
wiWIy : ^^"fif"' """ to her breast, crying
r^ph, my Eric I my baby f n,y baby l"
^i>sband, a father. " AndlS ^« T ^ u "^«^«t^^e, a
theglowing record l^it Jn ï^ *' ^°"°'' ''''"»•" «^uJ
^ w», o^er, an d then tato Lady i>^Xb m; .,^, .
i
/-
^ ,^C^!
1 ' "*
--
f f
1 '^^M,..^.
»
^^■j'-'
:*r
, Tenu Y, « / .■ ,
She left herlmaid behind her the dàv of h^rT • ?" ^"Z^'
ga« « thf paie, fair EnglùA S "=*«=«'"' «!«»« to
L^y p;„elv lUed ^m faJto Ê°a„7|'l|," ^ '^"^
iightod aiul Hn^^ - -„7° ^ ^^ ui°f y J*" «"O
w-1
*" i
-'»'
f..
.^ji'
\^n,^^jt^
'a*
"i^»
-«J'
) .
©.
92
TERXY.
V
ù
)
yan, i„ the corne/ '"fcJ''>-'^= «d-headM g«sBoon be
" Ai^ orphan ? '♦ h*»r 7,^ l-
earnestly at Teny, who S'''/*P"'="'' '«" Sazfng yen, /
?ÏÏ"«r.'° .P''''"<ie for il,sta„dSifd"''"?°''^"'f»'l>er,
I*ly Dyn^ Ba„s^ and ort^ î„ ''•'P"; "»'' «? Is--
fla^^dVay '"''^■'""' "« Olue, handso™ cye,
«Jon''«?f èrbuîl; ;^t!;!r^ «"-■ ^ P-^nœ, I
"« ï'"^'" ~" '""'^° *" »<« "-
««'kadKlefufke'Noi'^''?'' «« ««"»-. ùmre
*»-
BW,.
».j.i*«
^L.». ^^*
■+ ,-
,.s«S-' !o,'
TER^Y.
V
^ 93
yi
\r:
e, I
use
de-
jre
eU '
(
n .h, Parish chapel>ey:„,.'''',^'j:i|°?rSt";:S
Sl-r"™' rta"^ri"' hère widout the ring. HeSan
Engl,sh,„an-bad cess <o him wheriver he isikem herl Z
asked with cunous .nterest^n this lowly romance. ^ ^
_^ "And Ihen?" -^ '
«o"j'wé"st/'Lr"h "'i Tl 1^ ■""■• ''""^» y'« or
™ "r"^^f seejn nor heerd nothin* av aithf*k- jmt *h;.« c
po«Mkreene«d i^UierTeadfliwri^^^^ An' Z J"'!
, wance she kem bacTonlfine ra?rnT? wid IWrvJh ^'
^eeny baby in her arrunis.%,' iZ'Z^^:^,}^^,^^'':^^^^
8ee|Wt nor hair av her fihe ïlnglish husbLS 4he S
\ <^ % crows an him this day 1 » " ' ^^^^
y "îHe deserted her ?" )
^^•^ifrself wid nothin' at all C ""^o Z^^.^t^::^^,:,
heltt1-.i^^°"^^^"^^3^ï^3'°«Iyrepeatet "Surel/
malTied by that name S^ tm^l^f •.^^"l'""' *«^^»
« hi.4 cudnrb:- up"^ r V ^""'"""^ ^^'^
Father O'Gorman warned her, but shJ
-;?T ïf ^^^ .*'' "°"*''^ »^^her she kem «
wiq letrrym herarn i m s, an' n urayer fe^
on h#ir line " '
rry ^„.^
the wc^rïd, on her lips.'"
him^.Qchl
be wérped.
died hère
-#•*'
./'.î.
(1,
^ 4
"fr.
F%'
»^*-- '-'l. ' II. i ^ t 1. — ri" If W. Ity ,. "^ S, ' 1 I ■ 1 Ji, ' »■'' * ŒiW
oiÙMpt
-^w**^
94
TBRRY.
Lady ^
really piç
held ow^
»"aven6us%,™_
"WouldyS
, Bss. ' ""'™ Teny grabbed with
pause, 'and éddy'iïîarSdl,'^ '?'!;'''.'"='>= i^ked, after a
verjr white-«so far as I m?v»'«r ^^ ^^"'^^' ^nd gre,^
I >v,II atope for hisfather's wrônf^;;P^^^^^' steadfas l
you consent, you shall hA , ^'^^"^'^ yo" no more u
and expenseofthepast r^,^ ?P^'^ f^»" ^U the troubli
«ow, tell your parents. anH L° '^'^ " ">/ own son
Go t„ ,he i„„ i„ .L tSSge f„d™f f^l'^"',."'" """^S:
2sne arose- and left » k^ 1- ^ "'^ ^ady Dvnelv " *
ri;h ,he look of on. U„ A;„ '^"k™" ^"Sd, ,„d
Th.'f ^ Dynely „e„l teck. ^ * ''"^ ""'' h"n.iliâ<lng
I!
a ,>'
Aij
I
^'hifJ»
4
TERRY.
95
and they would humbly accept her'offer' ÎÎT,^ k
«n her train. She went to Dnhlin / .* "^^ ''"'« ^eing,
ail disniissed the xZ\aJ1^a^' ^""^ ^^^""^ ^^^ gopd and
^^e engaged another who would act L" n^"" ^"'^ "^'^^'
Terence.andmaidtoherselffor h.i as nurse to Master
journey to England ^''^ P'^'^"^' ^"d P"rsued her
wafhTnaVv^e'ïlirJtrih'^i-^'^^^ '^'^ ^- charge. It
friend. With thfvT^r , J L^'"'^
The vicarage lay do^in X L^T ?en'' '"' "^^ P'^^^^'
dank marshes ali about it_the fl7. ''°,"""'>'' "'"^ flat,
gloomybeyondthesandyioTst H. '""' ^'"^ ^'">''^"^
only in many daughters and /!^ ""^f.^ P^?*- ™an, rich
that they should brinf-up" Terr; 1.^^^^? ' P'"°P°^^
Heraccountofhimwashri^f ïî^ was gladly accepted.-
the orphan son of a^^^t^nt coSfnTf l'^'T °^""^°"'
An Irish cousin-a verv rH^n? °^ ''^'' '^^^ h"sband.
as such, with a daim u^w orS"n ~?l" ^ ^°"«'"' -"d
bargainwt Sed'thet" Ld t^ ^'^^"f- ^^^ ^^e
Dennison's life began anew! ' ^""^ ^'"'^ ^^ry
Hre-Ve^^s "air chfld'^C^^^^^^^ ÎS"^»^ ^^"' ^- -rly
beenbroughtupalngl've Jp'o^r'^^^^^^ '^^ "^'^
he remained at the vicarLe thln k ^"''^ ''^ ^* ^^een '
bttle Eric, Lord Dyne rSfdli;?? ^1 T^"' *° ^^^^ '^ith
That Christmas J the firï rim. r **''' ^? ^cquainted.
Pynely Abbey, and AenceforTh ^u'^^"' î*^^ ^^^'«n ^t
holidays it the vi^..rV and £c ^i/l'''°y^^y passed Jns_
/ «i ucsL Al the Vicarage, Air. and
î
i.
1 - ■<
/
«> A
ip
• , #• ■ ■ ' ■ ■■
" ' '' ' « . , ■
4. . ■ r
V
V
',''{,
1
'■\.
^
^\
/
•
,/■
-
,
/
■I
u
J 1
.î-.v"
G
.#'
*»
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
'™.
1.0
l.l
IA£M2.8
m lu IJ.6
r/.
_,SGifflices
Corpoialion
23 WBT MAIN STRf ET
WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580
(716) 873S1903
^^^
t ""^r^i ".^
.Jf
^.
/
c
Jf'
^
5^
?"
#-
ii/^,'*»i
,,^ „•_»:„ ," ..-.np^- ->*,,< "t^^^s^
.rv
96
TERRY,
dwelt the angel of his life r ni rt ^ ?'^ ancestral Abbey
Teror Dennistn had for tbis lar VT ^""^ ^'^"«•ation
the most bea.itiful, of ail women .k 1*" '^°'"^° «hç was
realize ail she had done for h^^ the best. He could now
d«pths of poverty and mis^ry she hï?/l°'^Tt ^~" the
of Jight to rescue him. ^ ^ *'*'^ destended lite an angel
^p^^r:';ol;^^^^^ .. had
she gave him a gJld™aS th. ?''' ^^'^ Christmas
Costly présents andSl^wordl h. /""^'^ ^^""^ ^«'^^ys
once, one caress. Ins incnJ!? î J "^''^'" once-no, not
had adopted with a JoSot^t':^^^^^ ^'^^ ^^ "«^e
of terror at timesr This Crv d 5 L/ '^P"'«on-al>solitely
was sIo«r, but bis heart mrnedvlf.T "°'''''^-. ^ ^^^^^ said he
touch of her white 'Jim h?»!? f"^'^^o™^timesforjustone
-^st one of the '^st^h'; av^^^^^^^^ tawny heK:
Enc-thrice happy Eric-lnorhS il ^" '°°- «« «vied
h«s «realth; ah, no I but one of .Sf*"'^' "P* ^« '«'«» "ot
sliowered on him like rain p • *''"<^, '"otberly embrâces
boy-like, of kisses andfSin. "'li't''^'^ hefoff, impaS
see Terrys round Celtfc etTiiSëd '^■\^y I>ynely S
the longing, path;tic patiS^ you J^f " L^ ^^ ^^^^ f^e with
This love, little short of wSn .!! " 'L^.^^^^ «^ » dog.
h«ni she was the perfectTon J kS fiT '""'' ^'^ S^om^fo
sjreetest, noblest, aiS^ng wo^en H^n ''^ »*"'"?^^ ^»^«t.
mos hkely he could notl^rhaif tS *'''^'' •?"* '" «'«'■ds-
she mspired him. And ^Sy fo^ hîr* ''t"*'^«on with which
o«rn, for thegalUntandgSlden l^Lt/tSÏ^r^ ^T^y^^' his
ne loved Eric, as once fmnn -^ V^^atcharmedalfchearts.
yo^ng David-..yrr."C .„Xte£r i'"" '^5
"»Jonty, and then hu bene&cSL £. ? °"î"'''' ««''«' h»
s
ri
w
A!
«(
'O
fll
mi
an
•
irt. '• '%i
1^, >■
y*'-Â^
TËRRY.
97
^ îiS^rSi o?tï^S.;^-'hi.„se,ratherfeetand
phrases of thanlcs. '"coherenily two.or three stupid
nedl^ ^r.:^X -' ^l ^^^y^ said hur-
are a relative of mv fate S J^^"""' ^erty. You-you
"Only her dutv" Ah k ^
- "T-. AJ^^ays dut;; nev« lot "''"^^ '^^'^ ^^*^^ ^^^^^ ^erit
her lajsh^tl ^nT^^^H^ ^dd^^ "^^ ^-' ^'-.••
Probably suffice for yôu Yo„r h^K- ^'°" '° ^'our pay, w n
spends more in a month for h^ ^'""^ ^°'" 'nstanw. whô
youdoinayear. S iuhouEsfffi '^' «'^^^^^ »^^^
to drawr upon me freely, and at af t?l w' "«^er^hesitate
C ï '"^ ™>^ ^^'^ son " ^""^'- ^y -P»^se is open
T-ftr^^^^^^^^^^^^ f^SteitrhT '^'^'" «^.an poor
ihroat, and tears. àctual tear^ .n X ^u^?^ «engo^àn ij^if
,,,' -She sits and looks at h^mV k''*' ^""^^ fooIJôTSlue evel
:*^oad-shoulders, sunbuîned he...!' ''^"^-^ ^^^^^ ^er, L
sonie, not in thé leas^/rrcefu^ ^A "^J '" ^'^^ '«^st hari?:
refinement that is her^n" Eri?.^??^ '?''? ^"e grace a^
man from head to foot S,^ Il birthnght, but a gentïe. '
«•m with wistful eyes ^^''^^ ^'^ ^^nd and look" «
nakeyouhappy, And'yoû a!^ S. ^^^ '^^ ^ have-t^
,-^,
98
TERRY.
Jove, you know I should think so, with a comnr issiôn and
five hundred a year, and the pot I made on Derby, and —
er — your regard, you kriow, my lady. Secause," sayshonest
Terry, turning very red again and floundering after the fash-
ipn of his kind in the quagmire of his feelings, " your regard
is \yorth more to me than the whole world beside. I ain't
the sort of a fellow to speak out — er — uni — what I feel, but
by Jove 1 I do feel you know, and l'm §iwfuUy grateful and
ail that sort of thing, you know. An3," says Terry, with a
great bttist, " l'd lay down my life for you willingly any
dayl"' .
And then \\g pulls hîmself up, and shifts uneasily from one
foot to the other, and looks and feels thoroughiy ashamed
of himself for what he has said. m^
"I know that, Terry," hèrjadyship answers, more touched
than she cares to show. " I Believe it, indeed. You are of
thô sort wlio will gd to death itself fô^jittr friends. The
motto of our house suits you — \Loyal^^m>rt. ' One day
I may call upon that loyalty, not forTUrclf but for Eric.
One day, Terry, I may remind you <»f your own words, and
call upon you to redeem them." - ^ *
" When that day cornes, my lady," he answers, quietly,
" you will find me reatty." » ^
" Yes," she went on, not heeding him, " one day I may
call upon you to make a sadrifice, a great sacrifice, for Eric
and for me. One day I shall tell yoU^' She paused
abruptiy, and looked at him, and claspfed her hands. " Oh,
Terry ! be a friend, a brother to my boy ! He is rtot like
/ou — he is reckless, extravagant, easily led, self-willed, wild.
He will go wrong — I fear it — I fear it — and you must be
his protector whenever you can.. Let nothing he ever does,
nothing he ever says to you, tempt you to anger against him
— tçmpt you to désert him. Promise me that ! "
He knelt down before her, and with the grâce a Chevalier
Bayard might hâve envied, the grâce that cornes from a triie
h«Ait, lifted her hand to his lips.
" Nothing that Eric can ever do, can ever say.^will tempt
-"mê td anget-^that T swear. ^^jriiis sake, afitifor yours» I-
will do ail man can ^o. You have been the good angel of
J
TERRY.
99
my life.,'" I would be less than man if I ever forgot your
goodness." •
She drew her hands suddenly from his clasp, and bowed
her face upon tbem. „ •
" The good àngel of your life 1 " she repeated, brokenly.
" Oh ! you don't know — ^you don't know 1 " Then as
suddenly, she lifted her face, took Terry's bet\yeen her two
hands, and,' for the first time in her lifie, kissed him^
He bowéd his heâd as to a bénédiction ; and a compact
was sealed that not death itself could break.
« * « « • * * « *
With a start Lady Dynely awakes from her dr«ini. The
softdarkness of the spring night has fallen overthe great
city ; its million gas-lights gleam through the gray gloom ;
carnages areiil-oUing up to the door, and Terry Dennison
goes.down the .passage outside, whistling an Irish' jig. She
rises. As shq. does so, her eyes fall upon her son's picture
The light of a street làmp falls fuU upon it, and lights it up in
its smiling beauty.
" My darling ! " sht whispers, passionately, " my treasure 1
what will you say to your mother on the day when you learn
the truth ? It is due to you, and a|i ! dear Heaven ! it is due
to him. Poor TeVry 1 i>oor, foolish, gênerons Terry ! — who
holds me little lower than the angels — who loves me as you,
my hearf s dearest, never will — what will he think of me whçn
be learns the truth ?"
« ■■ A
%i .»
'it
Cî"
■t*-^ ■", H^
P
CHAPTER III.
4 MADAME FEUCIA. .
IW\Y beyond the stately and stuccoed palaces of
' SSïT** ^^T^^** "^•'«^"^ bustle of the City
the fashion and gayety of the West End, Mr. Lockt
He sun'ds leamng with folded anos upon the low wick«
^^Z' „ "^ • ^'"S^' "^ ^^««t pathetic song in an ehn-tre^
S f ^ r^r "^^ ^"^ ^^^ ^°^ ^«"1 drink fn ail the ender .
hush and lovehness of the Mav *.v*.nf.H- lenaer y?
though. for his though^ are fiï^ffieîd ^''^'-"""°"^;^"^'>^'
froI*!f«^-*'"',*'T ^*l'^^ ^'"^^ this man'sreturh to England
from foreign lands. and during thèse two years he has lookëd '
r' Thr3,1n%"£ '^^''"^^' half inVad^ainnTong
co^-nteî^h'tu^'iXdTD^^^^^^^^
bas veampH f« iXal. ' ^y^ely. She is of hi» kin, and he ^
past is dead and buried, and he with it The worM thJl
Wh.m once, knowshim no more. Tfj^/^^^^ t^
'^'îÈiqp.^ f:
•^,v
?'»V" ""'■*! "i'
.'♦^-.-
i-ir
■l*"^ è •
*^^ MADAME FeÙcIA.
and pain, of sorrow and disgrâce. It is ail ov^r o«j ^
gâte and s™otes.andfofhUi„S„\%ï°JS, "'"" ''^
gorgeo„s masses of pai,,,eddoudSeTjr;r„ st'""' *°
.»d w Irsrc:a"T„^,;o'„'.r%^ r-- """"-" "- ^
«M^Xy -, "his ow„ son 1 Wdi.'thy no"?-?^'"'"'' >"•»"
da„gh"r""f!^nrca'±';a!;'f?*^3 'l^'"^''' """baby
.i.. Gordon c"^ ^"Ked^^'ÎSt .7X"^^^^
mih bnuM m ,ha. h.nd,„™. «plifted head, ^"i'^llS
tt^r»
-v^
„' ïd. 'a-
y
102
/ *
''ÎV
MADAME FEUCIA.
heTilSiacter ''SSnT' »•»"* «"*««>'«= little chîn bHi.
n rSn'iî..'"*"" "" ■"««J'th^grea..,. fo„Ui„',„a,.
"Mr. Locksley!" '
looïfn!" *J"?^'' .«'defly, yello«r man, shrivelled and foreien-
My name is Locksley," the ^rtist replies.
cJsare 'nf V ^^^"P'r,,"'^ " hands him his card. « Prince
ïnLhl^ï'™.^^'L«>*' ^'^^"«'^ f^»- the moment hehid been
Jù7r^' ^'''""' * ^^^ '^^ ^'S^' F«»'' i? yours, mon.
Mit. Locksley b owg. . >,^
r^-/f »<-•.";
,~_,r.,«- * . 3
v-,-,'*'.-4;
MADAME FELICIA.
103
"Itisnotsold?"
"Itisnot»"
"Itis for sale?" ^ ,. -
' Mr. Locksley bows again.
"It is not yet disposed of. Good ! Then monsienr
a lady fnend of mine desires to do herself S pS roi
becoming ,ts purchaser, and I am commissioned a" hei
agent to treat with the artist. Its pricei»"
Mr. Locksley names the ï>rice, and inquires, rather sur-
tion, if the Prince Di Ventunni will- not corne in
No no-it is but the matter of a moracnt-he wili not
detam Mr. I ocksley.» He produces T^Waik check and
pen there and then, scrawls for a âecon^ùpon it, then ^^
a low bow, a sniile that shows a row of glitt^rinutee
passes it across the little- gâte. The next Instant heha^
leaped hghtly nito the phaeton, and the fiery^yed coaï
Wack horses, that.look as though they had but lately left the
Plutonian stables, dash away through the dewy darkness
Mr. Locksley stands with his breath nearl^ïen S
h.m by the bemldering swiftness of this nn^^Th^^S
and looks at the check in his hand. It is for 3U amoun;
named-the signature is his excellences own. but he had
said the picture ^as for a lady. °
« Who câjï shp be, I wonder ?" thînks the artist, pocket-
ing the check firid going into the hoose ; "a pers^Se of
rank,or-staylJhispopular danseuse from over the water
..hose name nngs the changes through London, and whosê
, beauty and whose da«cing are the tllk of the own The
^ Pnnce is known to be the most devoted of her devôtees-
.n by the by, spme night at the B^^u, and loTat hT
So my picture is sold at my own prie;. Lady Dynel^s
fashionable doors are thrown open to me siuely a tïrn in
fortune's wheel, this." »"*ciy a lurn m
rhîSt ^^"^''' u 'S^*^ ^^ ^^ the.possessor of more money
j^^,^.^^ lae a^s itjat are ^one lie hâs^tnown poverty îq —
< «3
si
"M
im
,- 1.
-Vf?",/ ,C ht, % V*" .
**^"
'..^-r,.
104
MADAME FBUCIA,
inan born to
its bitterest sW the bitter poverty of a
tbe purple and fallen from bis high esTate "-
picture. " If by an y cbanfe f£ p • ^""^ pi'rcha&ed bis
latch-ke? and left The house "! ' 'n ^\^^^^^^^à his
know." "°"^*'' ^ ^eally should like to
.«ly M he [ee„ P^it'T.h'? ac^e " '2^:^ ""'^
The roonas, as usual. were fiii^H ^ inat afternoon.
centre of attraction was " hL k ' .fr u"'"^'' ^<^°' ''^e
shortlyafter thed^rs4re.hZ'''*^-^'fht Fell.'- Very
a lady and gentleamn-^h^'^^^T" ^^^^^
and whodivided the inte^s^ifhT ^ ""'^^'^^ * sensation,
The gentleman was theCa^ï, f,7tî P'^
most popular danseuse in Lond'^n M JamTp r '• ^""^^ '^' '
Sfehe™30»e ^^âTF^^^^ and
perfect, and she was dressed inX^Ai r ^""'^ ^r""^^ ''''"?'/
silver-gray silk with h^rl o i.? Perfection of taste. A
andtoUsï^^:^?,fd^:,:^ «^tlel
«nantua maker of the Rue d; b p^ff "?'"" °^^ ™"^^"''"«
gavî after this lionne ofC„!,L«^K ^^"^ ^^'^ ^"'"0^^^ to
they said that ever b^unded S? ' ^^S T'^ P^^^^*=* ^^"cer
days of Taglioni T?ë Prfnce hunf '/°°'"!?^^ ^'"^^ ^^e
Jightest Word, but she tumèd Lr^?^ ^evotedly upon her
J^ncing With . s^^^lî^îra^^r/te S^g'^IS
gfeînC^^^^^^^^
blue eyeSiinsiDid a« ,i,,,', „ ■ J^^""" '">•' and ch na.
Bah IwVdoS'^itkiX'TôubT.Vr '''•'''' '"" """«'
■T~7--'-rr
■ • ■- 1
•'^^yji^lV^nff-:^.,
MADAME FELICIA
105'
■ Ali languor, ail ennurfleS^o»? h" r" '"!'" ''=^<' '" f""'
■ faded-she grew ashen „avT„ ,h i'^''", "* "'" '=''l'"i"S
.pac^of ftdly%ve miomefKi'd'^"^ "<«• «<> f"r ,1,^
I.al.&er '"'''™' «°''«'" ^= suave «iceof ,he
her face, .lo^Vn^ 'ie «« C^"'' "^^ '«»">«1«S
glovedhand'^cruSitrcaXuV',';'"'''^'''- <'"=^»«
rasc,„a,ed she stood Iheïfand ïï^fS' "a«.n«,ou.ly_as if,
'Thon art nleaserl u;;fk »if •
, daurnin^n h"'r lips'.' ".. p«„'?''7 m''' f. '''?"'' «"nous smile
,^;-u.^ if i. is a.u ls^^\::^^:^t^:^^
it. HowdodilrcalfS^artTs ?°\ÏS^'*^^^ """«^ hâve -
Prince?" ^^^'^siey.^The name is new-is it nm, '
still ia the niarket." '^'^'''^'^y a°d purchase the picture i(
" I do wish it, Monsieur Prince Tho* • ^ ,
havethopghitcosthalfafôrhmi /« . P'^*"^^ ^ «""st
^ She tuî-ned back to it and i^'t A^^'Vl''' ^'^^^ ^eU | • "
she could never l4 énôugh "^ *°^ '^^'^'^^ ^ *0"gh
paui; "a;\tsL^SVo1'l7 ^-^--. ^er a
face of that woman in the^ o^ctur/.c "''' r,**^"*^' ^"» t^e
onehaIfsolpvely,bïtverySrneJ'2;ï^^ Net .
dàrae perceive it?" ''^ ^' "«^ertheless. Does ma-
- 'VJ
• :$T
•y-
/
ik'W'^'^TV'
m,.
î t
,,*
106
MADAME ffEUCIA,
k
you ? He isièaving her— is it noi ? anHTi^'h-«r» :. v, ï
«.g. Bah I i, i, lik/.he .g<,.i,„, cf Le" ,t, de«tt„,' ti
He escorted lier to her carnage.
At sun^t acrosç the gâte of the Brimpton cottaa*. th.
bargam was struck. and, « How the Night FeU " b^c^! Î!
propcrty of Madame Felicia, the actrek ^
4
\>^^-
/
r'
%:X
rjs'P-
,(iM ' *. •
r' ,-tlt ï 'fcl-^
bi eak<
is and
îst be
-Si. ,i.
bow;
e the
etbc
/
r'-
CHAPTER IV. .
LADY DYNELY'S THURSDAY.
IRILLIANTLY lit. brilliantly filled, Lady Dynetv'. -
\n his cérémonie costume, the artist loôked '«om,.»!,;»» '
more than well, and tRat military air of hS^wS^^^^^^
«picuous than everi . ^ "» nis w^» more Con-
niore than once under the cowlof a monk Your mJ
n,;l! "*''^'' ^^"* •''^ "^^ '"3^"^^- Locksley. So you fin*d the
S^/^t^"'"^*'!!^^ ^^'^'^^ P^'"^»"g. France. andTuwUlbe
1^ Zl%u -A T^f Y''^ ^'^""^ «'as the popular new ^
" Terrv -mIÏÏV^ ^'^f' '^"^ ^'^ ' P°°^ ^ocksley ! ? V*
neveTau;moth.°?''"f^^' '"""?'>'' "^"'^" boysshotald
'f^. ^ ^ss.m±'i„rr ïi,râs=
free.knce, andri hâve hefcd. brave as a lion." ^'^^''^^^
==^llJ?oJ«J France saidî dreamik^.-«île^i,ar ïfcë^
irire atr noble, Surely that man is welfborroreS ^
-~«»'
iv
:W.f'îfc. ^i'vff «î
î%
,<ti
^
io8
^^^^^ ^^^^^>"^ 7:/7d/^^Z?^K.
d.dn't he? J, commun caTënou.rt'"." ^°^ * ^«'«an*
to your heart o( h^arts for^at?.?^ :, ^""^ > °" t'-^ke ftifti
ç. Forrester? I know voTh, '^^'^'"^'^"ce.don't yoi, Mi'S
a sort oî dert,i-god° ^rhero l^''^"''-''^'' Gordon CaXn as
. ^ She smiled, then LheS ck'^'PP'^^ ^'«""g 'ady."^ ^'
haïr caught back by gleaminf dl.f Z""'^' ''^ »»« brown
for bnght colorsanVrichleSs^fï'';^, ^'^'^ ^^^^ ^ love
on the white tulle ^vaL^^^^^ ^^^'^^^ «:"h conte.n.n
" What cJergym;#Y^ if ? • f "^ '^«'^ ^oung lady friehds
operatic airs^to^SôL^ll once-when he introduced
, say it is a urtv/vôur niar^;^ ^" ^^^ sanie princiolp r
. bnghtes. coSCj Sfcr tH"t"";"'"'"'-'l.i
gems, the roses and laceT .m, Jh^ ."^ "'<"^. 'h' vivid
Cai2„''ï' >r ^l t>X°'fï fr "■"= "-' -x""-- The'
I>^»»u«,„, and ^e no secre7o? U '"'"° "^"'^ '°' «'
"Ae'S It^aîr atS:^-" * - -". ,„ ., .
„^„ aiive and the greatest simpreton ever ae'
"^^.SLZr^^X^^?^::^: a:,ho,„efo|,he
„i^xX'*Kra.'ïL^ '^-^^r^^^^^Tû,-
"the Nàht Fell " L, S' *'""y <>">era look, too "Hoi
ta^^sTin .he paîn'er""'''' ' ^"«"o" i 'herVeela langue
^ i^™^" Mr. DennW sa,, afte, ^^ ^^ „ , ^^^
1 — _] : — ". :
-Xy!-,
\ -
" . 1"
>>'•'.?
y-}
A L^Oy J,yjfej.y,s TKURSDAy.
and au that soriof "ifif Z/^^ '^^ '^^"^ °^ ^js fathérf,
, fortune. It would beTS'coZo"r,' ,!° ^'^^ y^"" <>"* of a
stage, now wouMn't j^p .l'"^^'»^'"^"^/ l^ke a ihing on the
. dainSy t!jili'' .^f "l,^'^ ^^^ «^^ge.» Miss Forrester dis-
' life. Ah. no hat wouTd bet^;^ "n'ike anything i^rS
- Caryll. poor fellow, is dead Tr?J° "^^ ''""• ^^^^on
..sees, if indeed she sees anv î, k ? ''''•^"^'^ ^^^X "^y^^^
is beckoning-let us go ove;- ^ ^°'»^'d«"ce. See, she
ihey cross the rooin. Mis.» -'^«vr^e*
of welcome, and lookîng yZ ^Z'^Vf" ^ ^^^nk^s-nile
arust a most gracions grfetln7 '^''^' ^'"'"^ ''^«
do thVhTnorof7n;%';:j,l-^2/-ce, and want you to
better cicérone, Mr. Lockclfv T °", '"""'^ "°^ ^^^ve a
says in an t Wre^^^^^^^^^ as she
„.^^ And fannharuy breeds contfn,pt,.*rur. Mr. Den.
^^^ ^^^^.^^ ^^^ .^-<^^ Miss
you, Terry, that sarcasni i^n-f 1 c *° ""P''°«« "Pon
much pleasure in dTsSL bur In"^" ^°"^- ^ ^''^" ^ave
eyes, Mr. Locksley. iSvs fee '« T' ^^ /«"^ "itical
with artists-they were the^stanfi % '''?^/^'-'"nn>ediately
Rome Jt i3 th^ hoS,^d of „tiu3 "L^h"'"^
there, I can see." genius. You hâve studied
l'ghts up his dark, S L^^r ^ "^ ^""^ ''^^^ «"""^
many times." *^^ iace~«l bave seen you there
life'sktclg in"îhe'%S ''lî.?"^' \ '^^' ^'^ "7
. ?*'r-
B
V
l
IIO
LADY DYNELV-s THURSDAY.
ad.Snnrï;es'"" "^°" *^ ^"^^ ^«-^X ^^ce with gravai,
-est -?ual"b::;eî'"fays^^^^^^^ ^^^^ .,ust strike the
a second ideà, " and £ fs" h "'. "^""1^' '"'^"^ ^"^
Roman poses ! They werë sn,th« • ^^'"^"^able dearth of
.1 was there, one haT M^V^n^ii^Vr" ""{ "°'"^' "'^^"
Placent,, a. an opposite .U?'.. 'Zla^:SZ^.
and niottu of the DySsr ' ^"^^*^°«ed with the arms
" Loyal au mort."
r'^T^^iS,r^^^^f^f^- --= passes,
room." ""^^ °/ ^ '^a°» one of the gems of the
hîs wives, isn't it ? Thèse ôlrTmT* ""*'^ ^ ™®^°' ^"^ of
four, hadn't theyJone burLd 'toT ' ^^^""^^ ^"^ ^^'^^ «r
to marrya rnaVorgenbl F^n^' "^'"^ °°- -^O" «"ght
♦capital iife for one woudn'^v^T' ^^^ ^°"^^ «^ake a
his side. urging hTm'oZote ^Tull ^C' S^ ^""^ '-^
.Pai-Iiaraent you would havJ. hK« ^^ ^^ ^^ '^ere in
artist you would W hiraMTchl.^T ""-^ ^^^^ -"
Beethoven, eh? wouidn't you ?- ^°«^^^'*' '^ ""^'^1' «
r^hav^^^^l^s^ef tr^^^^^ Irr."^? — '
wife of a man of genius is a Tôciat mlr?^ ^^ ^^"^^ '^^
cross while her hufband wears the loTn^ "**° *^^^ *«
Thet;^::s:rr^a^^i>iy^
,. * ;
\ —
:ïJB--
iiyrA34.'iïJft^;*;4(t,, .•^'* ^ a^ „.. *-^-^
t.. - *
Women never write hn?U ^ou monopolize ail that.
statues. GW Eliot Ro4 S' T"' l';"'"''"^ °^ ^^^«
ail are myths GeS £ !k bonheur, Miss Hosmer, etc.,
master-Man » '' '^' Prérogative of our lord and
W'Sckikff:,iH""^°'!fi"^^ prérogative then," says
waL'ttr^ t^îeVv^rt;. cut^-i'^""?»' "^^^ ^-"-
I ain-engaged for «,?„,;, i. " "5"''^ ''''"" J"»" «de.
barsafar off" "' "^"^ "■"' ^ •"" «>a o,«m„g
such a frt.i K • u. somehow niissed my destin v. It is
«•nm bas haum^ e^ S^^ The ftce of tha
'■ -> .
'kit».
,.*^
i
il A
112
^ADY bYNELY^S THUUSDAY.
' V
siill alive ? >■ ' '""'°- ^» ">« o-raer of (ha. wondS &ce
out of ,he world SI? L if ï' """• "»»•« as ,ha, are Si
Hour very beautiful she miref h, u ,
dream,ly; «even wieh that S,*"!? b«n," France says
is beautiful still." *' tortured look you give lier £
Jt|y„ra iuTanswrt T'"'"' ".■='" «"•»' •
offended. Ali.tleou.ofehefineôfH""''^ Forrester is not
she certa^nly miirht h- fc„tj "'"""■<= younïladvhooH
"pthedarkgravitfor4'alriTelL'r\ ^-'^l^reaks
Vou honor my poor oainfîn^ î ^^^ ^"'^^ »* her.
pver and donc with marTv » i ^® ^^^''^ " tells— that is
hâve painted is cSe nori^orthva^/'"."«?' ^he woL.n I
hardly know-it was the whim^f ^^'^ P*»"ted that I <
hâve the success it has nie" ihh î SiZ ^3^""^'*' '' -«"^
She colorsslightl y. he ««ee^y Vo ht^ "1?!.^ " ' ^^~—
„, __ „ —-w^ **buketf her iirepre».
.■/^
> ♦
"^^^^m-
^j. -wsi j.
1 "■
Z^Z>I' ^K<V£-/; K,.y tHURSDA Y.
. They say no more about " How the NiVht P^ii » -ru
f«h f „ S: ahigWKe^J!!™' '". "? '■^«.=. ""d France
, to .he perfmned ^^r^^^\Z^Jf^l for re.urning
J^on .a. ..e .as P^^=^^f pi%^dS Vln-LSt
is as curious about it as I am " ' ^ ^''''^^"^ '^^
awray, and conies ud to Franr*. oo »»,„• i . . "'^^.ks
.n love wS iti. sigh*! Se™ ■£= "• , *» «he ladie, faU
artists." ' »gn^ i Delieve. How forlunate are thèse
••'1?'
*■
U IBM Felicia.'
j^^s^@ii^^îs
\ <n
.i.
'" ^'" -.- é^'^i'T-^' ' 4> 5,-isi»^^";^^ ^s?.??^^^'
I Àk **
114 ZADV DYNELY^S THURSDAY.
•' Fclicia, the actress ! the—"
synon^ms ivith Fdicia." " ^'^ ^"^ *° ^ave are
.. . yello. excfellenc;s t 'o goôd t^S'Vt^ '^'^ -^^ ^•^ ^•"^"•
thmg môre than annoyiSg-a "o JtU aSdin^^^^^
carrL;:rîoÏ:i^^^^ byone coroneted
of Ladj^^Dynd/ ^""^ °'"'^^'^ ^"d takes leave
" How do you like yoùr genius. France ? " ;«^ • -r.
Dennison. «Does he bear the ordil of H '^•''■^' ^^''^3'
OJ the Cheapside tailor's son ? " ' "^ *^^^®
"'"Sra'el Ofwhomthen?"
régal „re«„ceB„VaJl fhejrioÂS"1î^"'«' '" ^^^
lA>i)dbn Sun." • ' "othuig like her nnder Uie
i*ef '■"^^ """ '>"' r« ««""l-'oly '«minous « he «„. "
^^■?i*S5p%j
f g rcv e r IV P ooi v geod,.iKmesr'
•^r
4
•A,^,-'' «i-i
-* .A
rr,-..
'■^^"!
^ the.omenyounZyLppy" ''"""'^ ""' "^° ^^--'^^
at fno"hfrC;r «^ '^^ ^- --^' -J her «ind goes ofl
Royal Bijou to-.no?fo^n.W Ïk ^^^' '^V^ ^"^ ^^ ^^e
thèse peopleoweT£^hL? ^t"''^''^''^"^^°««' but
powder, and Xr She hL^ '^' ^ 'Î^PP^'^' *** P^'"^ ^nd
she need notS been ir!?.S excephonally well. too ;.but
She panses inTer wand^rin^ïhn^^L^^^^^^ '^^' P'^^"^«"
lights. 1 1 Èars thJ^ Ï«S 5 **'^' ""^^'" ^^^ clustering wax-
cLiation oHoy Miss For'rtP'"'"""^ ^"^' ^"'^ ^ l'"^« e'''
and reads'eSy tSon^h ?ï ^^'' r^^^ ^''''^' ''^« ««^l
this^alliance TS^ fL^fel^^^^^^^ ^î^^^^ '^ «^
h'.s happy wife is the désire of Iv heart ^?V k- '*'^. J"""
clearest ^vish also. In everv rîlL.? * • "^* '^ his 01011161^8
both dowered wUh vomh ?J I 'll."^' " »* '"««^ suitable—
you I am s'^1 iinC*^A"M^^^ ^"^ beauty. He loves
had you let h m But vo.f h. ï ^^^^^'P^''^" before now
nature my dearest child, so uX^heT^rl^f '^''"^^'" **
. so self-willed. and radical in 3, • • 8'"^ of your âge, .
you. Not that you toSîd Z/rZ ''T''''^ ^^^'^ ^^" ^^'
no dread of thaVyou are fir t^Jn"^ ^"k^'^ ^°"- ^ »»»^e '
fome one whom your fancv wmlr?'* ' ^'^' y°" «"^^ «'««<
aaaiostit— l*»f ««..V: ' 7 ""^ *bis will be so. Guard
■gwost it-let your engagenien/ with Erip be announoS^
■v"
■ ^\
>i1
^^^.
■.**>
vï»-.
m
ti6
fa
>
^Z)K Z)rAr^ZK'J THURSDAY.
' • " Marian Caryll."
Caryll's wishescarried force h^f^" PetiHant, and ail Mrs
\ Eric Dynely," she sairl " o ^"*'"fr «he would or no
fumedcoxcimbfkdandvoffh/fiT''"''"-^ «'^^ doll, a L.
I detest pretty \l^T\ lufd^iîl^^'."'" ' ' ^^'^ dandys -
son any day J •' . ^ "^^"^^ «>oner marry Teriy Denni
as"deand leaned out into the' f ish^l^^ '* î« P"^ ^hem
" The dày for thi«! cnr* ^r • ^
çentury ago." she thinks fuil "r?'*^^-^''^"'^ ^ave ended a
of alliance should be leVt "o /oiT^'ï ?*'" ' "^his kb5
it seems to be toy faté h °^^^^^' ^"^ «^^/„^^ ^^.J^j"
I kno,., the be7second?n «7"^r"' '^« best ^tS
grâce of a Beau ir^^^^^t^l^Jf "t' '""^ ^^^ ^^
-what more can one wam ? a?S ''^''* ""^ ^^ ApolJo
H;e. does he, grandmanfma? l"h ^'' ,^"1,^°^«- Loves
gleaming through ihe fairneTôf L k • ""*** "' «'"«
Wa»Jto.C«,.U„»ongU„p„p„^,
h^^'^v'''^-'','*?^
i ,-v^
1
CHAPTER V.
LOVE TOOK UP THE ^ij^ qF
f TIME.
Win his bHdl ^""™^' ^-^ '^^^ i^'/wan^ly ?X^S ï„1
had predicted, a sensation. A cerSn roi ^^^«^^'"7
whose approval wa«. a «»»-«♦ • u • '^^f'" ^yal personage,
itself, haS œ^esœnded to nl'J^l- ""^ "^^^ ^^ popularity ,'â
probation upTher and MU, L '^''^"^ stamp of a,,-
words told the whole storv w^ !. , .*"^^* ^'"o magie
for the favor o{TwlhzLltJ^''-'t ,^«n .^^iplomatized
^ent. In t1i«^ ride fn tht 1^7 ™'^''' ^°i P"'»*^^'^' prefer-
Forrester wastti 1 the be^Ï .uÏ^un'Sï'^ opera-box" Miss
peersasked. "It isn't her bea^fti i her envious coni- .
îling— an|^(
.j"
p-^'o iw'BTîJSvsr^rsjt^
îi
9-'' "! I-'
'4*
Ii8
I
^c.^^ r^o^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^
with lông-hair7d,^?:a:i^'^;:3^ ^ disœuTseîi?
Clans, or the latest Belffravian W • '• u""* «^a^^ly academi-
not the man; her hearf ,y "^ '^^^ '"^erested m the thème
clad in steel^no one it seemedT?"^ °"^' "^ ^
And then, presenilv it leaLn ^^^f .î , »'°«'^'" f» touch it
for years to Lbrd^nel fnd . 'TIk''" ^^^ be#h engjg '^
be pubUcIy anounced to allwL™^^ .engagement SoulJ
• fauh m hià affianceà " saiv! S« '^ ^® '""st hâve great
[n no hôt haste to joi^W T^'"^'' ' ^^ ^^'''^'n'y «ee^ Sd
had said "no" to tio of the mo^T^''' ^'«^ ^«"e eï .
sea8on,andwhohadfonowedrri?*'**l^«^"''e™enonhe ~
l'ke her lap-dog or Lr shadot ^''°"' ^'^^ ^"'»™«^ through!
vict6;%r£7o^âte^'tï^^^^ ^""-t careerof
Locksley the Paintr^SrSel t^ed Tn^ ï"? °"^ ^ "^°
• t^une seemed niade. Madame pï^.vf ." ^^"^^ ^nd for!
a çompanion picture to " âot thJij- f "U'^ ^''^ P""^^ for
quis of St. Albans had orderld f ct'/'^^" ■ '^^^ ^^'■
Lady Dynely wished to hâve hef own n^^'f" • ^'"'^^ «<=^"e.
her son. The sittings for tln^L^Z.r'''^"'.''^'"^^^ for ;
vjsits to the Bromptfn Stud o ^nï î>r?^^^'"^^^^' "'^"y
almost 'invariably my ladv"c în^ •^''' Forrester was -
aboutamongVtheVin';fng^at^^^S^;h ^"îV^^^dered
. ?^ïayback,andlistenedwithhaf:.i ^' the elder lady sat
'ey talking whilst hè painteS H^'tlfe^ *?, '^'' ^^"^^J^s-
feemed to hâve been ,ie«v m.,rh % ^^u""^"' ^"^ as he v:
iects enough. , AnecdoKhT, in^- '''î^r*'^^^'^""^ sub-
campaigniSg,.the pig st ckW i •'^'^"J''^'' ^''« %hting. the
w^r.thrillingand vfvfdSnS °\T ""^ ^^^ American^civiî -
-nh its brie! ^ot'^SZTtSZ^'l'^! ^'î^'"' «^Can^di '
fyn^ ^nîl^^l-îït;;^ c^panion,' Lady
W What a traveS'hetL ^f JÎ!" ^">^ "«» ^
*nd seeo eveiything." ^^ '^°~'>een everywhei^
m
4
Ai#^'à
- 1' ^i-
I";- . ^=vV5^^'->C5^';r-"T^7:^>^";^^^
sation. And vet tho..ah thY ^"^\ J'^e charm of his conver-
open .vindow watcE the B^n^Pton^ttage, sitting by the
tened, were the ulëllô. / u"^ ^^>' ^^"«'y «at and lis-
had kno«Tî : but thèse wer^r? V ^ ^"?.-^ ,''''"' «^""^ otiîer
She and Mr L^ksTev m^^ ?T *îV''^= * <=hampagne.
.. ««-■»-.endedi;t:nraIs"£idX^
^ -l;:r:;reThï:r^7tr ^^^"^^^^ ^-^''^-tsiSr^^^^^^^
NthereSl^htint^J::^^^^^^ to note
glances at the dc^r tLTdden t ifr* '^ ^"•'^'^' '"'P^^'^"^
'when a ne«r name was annnn ^T ^'^^^ ^^"'« «^«^ her
noyedinn^atienceonî^^^^^^^^^^
spread oyer hcr far*. U f, °' 5»"^ "ght and warinth that
wished Th^T^nh^Ll u'^''' ^^^""' the name she
Locksle/s^o^gTl^^C^^Th^^o^^^^^^ "«' M-
ofmen-presenflvhefonnHh- ^îul"^^'^' '^^^^ presuniing
holding the littUîKedZnST^^^ Forrestefs sideT
In the park, too leaminVnL. .k ^,°^'^^'" «"""'est sniiles.
cigar, AÏr. iloSley^^^^^^^^
- from a certain «omnl^L favored with a gracions bow
fran^ed i" Ti^-i^r: ^S^f; ^^^^^^ '
upon him for an instanriilff » f ! ""^ rosebuds, shone
dierly figure, that bS. ^ fïeT;* ^'^^' '^"^ ^^'-
recognition, Miss Forrester w^^^S^iT' î^^^ ^"^''^ «'*"'e «^
thousand. 'orrester would liave known aniong ten
Aud stiU Lord ûynely did not come.^
or to Tenf . knitW h^ hlnnl k °''^'" *S^'"' *<> '^«^«eli;
stapd. Sq fond 3^ f. .flfrl^ ^i?T^ "J ^»'t iîndeiL_
^'.
1^' ^dé?'-i
#
.-s-i^i
■'^,■-0.;:
fi
, «.•' ■
120 ^r)*'^ iroo^ i/p r^£ glass of tims.
can t h^lp sm, hng on men and turqing their heads anv^
Sun AnU if thq sun scorches and shrivels theSMii r
don't see that the s»n is to be biamed diher ^Ê^Mk^^' /
ica , that. don't if ? " «aJH t^ «'"Ç" citner. Qipiprpoet-
"Uncomïïionly well," says Terrv '««în «^«11 «i . t r
•• WelM' woîr?"';^;," h"n.s Teny „„der his breath.
like." ^' 8° "'^ »"'' '«'h him if you
answers, bufc*smothrre^^lI«Î^^HK'!Le™î^ t
weeltf,
SOI
If I could only hâve got off duty for a week-i„.,f »
^e had sa.d pathetically once to FianceT" 1%^",!'?
Hng in the world— -''^
UMJÉe^^earest^sweetes^
«
Xf^f/J'*' »**?" , .M'a" ..•^- » K.^
' '.* * I ^ V .
\"'
'.^m
» -rf'
' "?nvf°r"*'v'"**'^Pt' France, gravely.
And l've ,been awfullv fnnH Js u ^
roundabonts. and she S '°" ^^ ^^»- «ver since I wrore
8houId*r,andrSjÏLlo elX^^^^^ up op the
feission and the file hundred U * «"^'^ "^'^^ "^ <=^'"-
»narry and keep a wife on his ni! Lh « J^ ^"""^ <=°"'d
çouldn't. he. France? Tust l%f^ ^*^u ^f ''^'^*^^ » X^âr,
hors^^shay-eA? Couldn' they Sn^ > ïï'^f ""^ * °°'^-
expensive, as tady Dynelv said th/^?K ^ ^^ ^^^^ «in't
ï^ranceJ J see lotsofLT ^^*^ «'her day, and she-ah
dashing. girKTnd;;e«y| i\^rnnr""-J°*>' girls.,and/
. niy Word, not oneialfLCod or swe^rr"^ ' «^^^''^^
• little Crystal I" *^ ' **'*^®'» ^r pretty, as my
in awe of her. But F^nœ sv!,^"^''^"^'^^^"' *»« «^ands
j than everin thèse làterryîand^Sîi^!? ^*^ *^^' "«'^
insipid.) Thafe haff a Zd L J'n ^^'^P*» *<^ * '
mysçlf.» *" * ™'"d to iall m love witb ybu
.bc;2fV:l„l°S^^^^^^^ Piteously; .^tit \
«pon it. I shoufi knockl^^der J ° ^ *'°^" ^^ ^" »°*ted
do what they please m'ih ™/?n/?,^~^^^ *^° aï'^ays
,«»»onId never.m^n<S't Irî^^'^^r'^'^^' P«>P«e '
/to Eric" ^ ^^*'* ' ^o« ; besides, you beuJng
«««
The absent are alwa.ys in the
wrpng,' » Miss Eorrester
-r
f
i
11»:
MU. ' B ii'HI
•«;«*,« -.-ar-;
mmm%wx
'v
't . . ,' ■ / ' ' ^^
122 LOVEmTOOy UP THE GLASS OF TIME.
quotas. "I^don't see why ray lady shbuid be angry wifh
Eric — l'm not. Let the poor boy enjoy himself. But, for
you, Terry, you shall go down to Lincolnshire to-morrow, if
. /you wish it.^*It is too bad. and too selfish of us, to keep
you lied to our a|)ron-strings when thé prettiest and sweetest
girl in England is pining for you among ihô Lincolnshire fens
and raarshes. I shall speak to Lady Dynely, at once.
Yours is the most aggravated case of ^ crueity to animais ' on
record." '
" No, no ! It may annoy Lady Dynely— I would nôt fbc ,
the world. My affairs can wait," Terry remonstrates in
alarm.
" Sp can ours. I ana very fond of my lady, jbut I don't
worship the ground she walks on, as some people do. I
shall ask her."
Miss Forrester képt her word. She sought out liady
Dynely, and broached the subject at once.
"Lady Dynely, can't you let Terry off duty for a couple
of weèks ? The poor fellow is falling a prey • to green and
yellow melancholy,' and the ' worm i' th^ bud is p^eying on his
damask cheek.' In plain English, he*s in love; and nôw
that your generosity has given him something to live on, he
naturally wanls to go and tell her— wants to lay his hand
and fortune at her feet, and do the ^ corne, share my cottage,
gentle maid ' sort of Ihing, you know."
France spoke lightly. Lady Dynely laid down her pen—
she was writing that indignant prbtest to Master Eric— and
looked up with a face that turned to the color of ashes.
H Wants to marry I— Terry I " was ail she could say.
" Naturally. We hâve niade him our ♦ fetch and carry '
spaniel, I know ; but he is a man for ail that. We bave
treated him as though he were a page or footnian ; but he is
a lieutenapt of dragoons, and nearly twenty-four years old.
Not a Methuselah) certainly, but old enough to take unto
himself a wife if he wishes to perpetrate that sort of imbe*
cility."
" Terry I a wife 4" Then Lady Dynely sits still, and
over the grav ^allor.of h er face a look of angpr flashp». _
^•^^l
i
s
i
P
h
n<
to
P«
«TTw a
gray pallor c
iMÏÏrdP-îtTs
preposterous I Terry with a wife I
arc
U.', -.
. JîJ\.'^--"'yag„,wn-upbabyhi„sel. I .m «^t hear
" She is one of the M ss Sinse-^ tk ^^ ^^ ^ "
Higginses.» says France, wiS fSr J}î'^ ^^ "'"^ Miss
youngest but one, poor hTia t^^* '''^^^^'■- " She is the
, jove with each other everSe ÏV^ .^""^ '^^ ^^''^ ^een in •
bowl and wore pinafores And f X.-^fP^P^"*^^ ^^e sanie
.^ Lady Dynely," concIuSs Fr^Je^ï " '^ 1 «*"« ^oo bad,
' ^s^ï^ii;:îf iiS^^^"'^ "^^ ^-' .
n^^^5hnn^thir;uliect"'^^^^^^ "I wiU
France. ia,^*îo/4,V^?.^?^^^ the poor fellow," pieads
" s the faL of 'f^. mot^'e;s%e\"''^' '*^c^°^^« J'' " a
beheve if you order him to^U „„ J— ^ ^o well that I
turn Trappist. he will obey vo«^ 5" ^"^' *°«° ^''^y and
inerciful-^on'tbehardon^em '. "^^ ^°" "« «^rong, b^
Then she eoes an^ t^JI *^*
f^«sh and gSilt;; mt?a7heTed%o?o t'^ «-«only
steahng down in Lincoinshire \nnîl ^° '^''^" *^"«ht apple-
fore the vicar to answe for hi °c W %^ '^f falfed u^be-
pale very pale, her lips are'set hTr ^^ ^V ^^>'*'»'P « »««
hands that are folded in L , ' . ^11 ^°*''' a"^»0"s, the
approach. "" ^^"^ ^^p tremble nervously at his
" What is this, Terrv ?» ci,» 1
" You really ^ " ?"'"• '°*"« "P bmly eni„g" 5^'
.. ** I J a allu tî^fc ^tj.-^^rr» — = —
'H are
« T — „ 'V wisn iti"' - •
,*^
^I^RÇ^-^f^^
124
IVE TOOK UP THE GL4SS QF TIMB
.1 -''
1 .
«*
\-. =■
3ro.unger than your years — in spite of ail you hâve lived in
the world, you are as ignorant of it as a girl in her teens. I
don't object to that ; I like you the better for it indeed. But
you are not up to the rôle of Benedick, the married man.
And besides, the incoine that is sufficient for you, with your
simple habits, will not suflice for'a wife and family. I can't
conçoive of you in love, Terry, you who treat ail the you
ladies of your acquaintance with an indifiference as unéatt
ing as I am sure it is sincère." 4 ». ,* ^
^ "I love Crystal," is Terry*» answer, and his blue éj^es
light. " I hâve loved her pretty mucb, I think, since I saw
her first."
« And she— " '
"Oh, I don't knoW' — she likes me,. that I am sure of.
She is only seventeen, I^y Dynely, and know$ nothing ol
the world beyond the vicarage, the villase, and her native
marshes. And yet I think when I ask her to be niy wife
she will not refu^."
" You mean to ask her then ? "
" With your permission, Lady Dynely."
She lays her hand on his head ; her hps tremble.
" You are a good boy, Terry ; it would be difficult to be
hard to you if one wished. ftit I don't wish. I only ask
this — postpone your visit for a little, don't ask her to be
your wife until — until Eric cornes."
He lifts her hand and kisses it
" It shail be as you please," he answers.
" Until Eric cornes," she repeats, and that grayish pallor
is on her face, that troubled Jook in her eyes. "Ihave
something to tell hi»n — something to tell you. When that is
told you shall do a» you please — you will be absolutely your
own master thencefurth." ^
"You are not angry, Lady Dynely?" Terry asks, jn à
troubled tOQç.
" Angry I with you? Ah, no, Terry; you hâve never
given me cause for anger in your life." She sighs heavily ;
6he thinksof one, as dear to her as the veiy heart bea^e in
her boaoïw; adu) has ff*ea^ h«^ €auge|»4mgcroftq»^
f .'.
^s
\ii -y.,-
ff'f.
*f^
'„*■■> c^r^l,
I,
-«y
zor^ rooir w» ^^^ ^Imss oit rmE.
I2S
*^
"It is a compad between im v«., •«
hâve toldyou what I hav^o V Ji k r " ""'" '^^^ ""t»! I
mystified look on his fecf'h/ ^^^°' '"''^ * ^'•««Wed.
tell ; what can it be ? " Mr n f • '' *'"*' " Something tô
pie life. and they^^X S^ "^^'- ^is sim.
For Lady Dyneinie dmrïV f"^'^.' '''™ ^''«^ they do.
passionate cry ^ *' ^^"^^ '"^ ^^ *»a°ds with a
isW-i:£ ''^"^ ^ ''''''' '""^ -b^^ "-d no. the dar
hei{£:fe-^JS^ NotJu.yet-.
Fo.esî^ïsX-n'r^L?^"^'^ P^^'-- '" « Miss
do with it? If Udv Dvli ' ^!^^^' ^^^ ^"n has Eric to
revolve at Er^i's pf^^^ L'*'!^' '""f '^ï?^^ ^°^'^ '^o^'d
his sovereign will.^Tneed not ask°M^^ •'* '^^
mean to obey ? » *' ^r. Dennison, if y©u
I thought gra'i°Xan«?L?'''r' '■'="' '''W.anoaare.
darkagy^oftetchmel^Ï"!^^^^^ -* <•>«
etate Lad/ Dyndr in a wa/tC S - . '"'« »"<• »«■>-
tude can ever repay he"" ' ^"^ "''•' " "o giati-
ship to the Dyn"5^'fami^ L!^ " °"t ^'^' ''^^'-
'••■ on rth- ■ Kg' l Z ^'^^^ ^ '"" ^ fi» yo « ^ ''
',0 " X'
■va
il-
w^":i'.l^;^-.ii-
,4^-
i^-s"
-r
k-'3'
IfTî
fiçr.
~.f~ '
. t.-
126 l-OFE TOQfT UP THE GLASS OF TIME.
f '
squalor that he vaguely remenibers, also that those With
whom his early years were spent were kind to him, in a niV
sort of way. Mvtt of this blurred picture, the rainy da
upon which she entered their hovel, like à veryangel|o^
light, with her fair face and rich gannents, stands out clefar.
She came, and ail his life changed. No mother could do
more for a son than she had done for him.
" Could they not ? " Miss Forrester says, rather doubtfuUy,
thinkiftg how differently the lives of Eric and Terry are or-
dered. But she will not throw cold water on his enthusi-
asm. It is ,beautiful in its belief and simplicity, «his
worship of Lady Dynely in a world where gratitude is the
exception, not the rule.
"But why did she^do it? And what claim hâve you
■ really upon her ? " she asks.
Hère Terry is "fkr wide" again. His father was some
sort of relation of the late Lord Dynely, that much her
ladyship told the Vicar of Starling, and that meagre scrap is
ail Mr. Dennison knows of hiniself or his history.
• " Curious," France says, thoughtfuUy, looking at hira.
" Lady Dynely is the last to adopt a ragged child through a
whim and do for him as she has done for Terry. There is
something on the cards we don't see, and something I fancy
not quite fair."
So ail thought of going down into Lincolnshire and mak-
ing the eighth Miss Higgins blessed for life, was given up by
Mr. Dennison for the présent, and he resumed his ♦♦ fetch and
carry" duties as France called them, and dutifully escQrted
his two lady friends everywhere. Even down to the Bromp-
ton studio, which bored him most of ail, for he didn't care
fpr pictures, and Mr. Locksley — a good fellow enough— was
monopolized by the ladies and had no time to attend to him.
The bright brief season — for Parliamént closed early that
yearv- was at its end, ail the world of western Ix>ndon were
tuming their thougHts countryward, the last sitting for Lady
Dynel/s fwitrait was to be given. While she sat, Miss For-
rester prowled about as usual among the pictures, and lo !
brought one to light that was a révélation.
— §^e had seea^m. att ag^ jmé a£^tt&^ ^&nCiffiadtw^
Mt-
'#.-
•■,^^*
l?i
] t
Jik^"*'
LJf>F£ TOOK UP THE GLASS OP TIJUÉ. 127
winter scène for the Marquis, a view from theheights of Que-'
bec, with thenver a glistening ribbon of frozen silver-white
and the ice cone of Montmorency Falls piercing the vivid
blue sky-the ghmpses of green Virginian forests. ' p?c
turesque negro quarters, rich sketche» of northern autûranal
forests ail gorgeous splashes of ruby-red niaple and orange
hemlock, and an on a glimp.se of Indian life, dusky whitc-
veiled Arabs, and dreary sketches of sandy phini The
companion picture for Madame Felicia was not^ yet begun
And thus it was that suddenly France came npon her
treasure-trove. , ^
It was hidden from vieve in a dusky corner covered by
half a dozen larger canvasses— a iittle thing, raerely a sketch
r"î^''™-S'';V"''^^'^ ^^"^' r'^ ^««^derful gr^atbn of
light and shade. This is what sbe sa«r • ^ ^
h.w oW-fashioned garden ; a tjingled mass of roses and
^nnn °?H ^"^^ ^«"^y?"^»'!^, > ^ "ight sky. Ht by a faint. new
moon ; the d.m outlme of a stately mansiori rising m the
background over the black tree^; 'a girl in a whit^e dress!
fjj \ "J''^^^^ ^° ^^^ "'Sht sky. In the dira distance, à
darker shadfl^ among the shadows, his face entirely obscured
i^l^fl figure of aman stands unseen, watching. The
face of. the girl is France's own. The blood rushed tô hev
fo ehead as she looked, with a shock, she could hardly hâve
old-whether of anger or joy. She tmderstood the pic!
^re m a moment and m that moment understood herself.
The figure m the background was >i^-and he was biddini^
her a last farewell. That look of passionate Ipve, of pal
sionate despair-how dared he! With the crimson^of
conscious guilt still red m her cheeks, her eyes flashed. Did
he suspect what until this moment sheliad never suspected
her. Did he suspect-did he dare suspect that she had
stooped to care for him unsought? '
Yes, stooped ! Was he not c^nameless, struggline artisL
stonnld'^' Tt'' ""^'^^ ^^''^^ ^°^ she-andfgeXnce
stopped and knew m her mmost soûl that though he were a.
,^gaii,he«aï theâftfcfflaa of aU nwn born tebc ber ma^
':^-
1<
^?'
■f-r
-/:
*****■»
128 LOr£ TOOX- UP TffB GLASS OF TIME. ^
"■ Sodow we in!, Md yet m Un ipirt ,
So do» I feel yom breath upSTmV dœk-
. Sodose, ,hai „hai I hear yooT ,oic I im
lift^gi» tr^"-,' iii^r^r^ "iF.'T'''^''"'-^»^*™
^■' Mis, Fo^est^ I I dia „o. mean thaf yo» *ould «e
V allTe 'rr "'S>7r^r'r'''K? r ?' "-'""S «en i,,
patrons isthSf"'^ "^ *=' "^""d» «f Mr. LocWe/â
\I. U b„. an insean,^ woA"S'&1?triïirZ,C
„-Ngo ng ,m atb««tae/- Fra nce said,^^^^^^
f
.1. .A..
;UWV«'>*"»*'' «■• "' '^ '■'SV-^ .* '., **^
^-ii'Fj
f ' s.
!
■« ^'"^.7'>'-i *g/>5 ^^»f'
^\^pys\rOOJ!r (/P THE GLASS OF TIME. \.g
iiarve such vivid «maginations " artists
face. g'eai» of sunshine after a swrm lîghted her
«No one ever says impossible to Lady Dynelv" she oaM
otherssee?^e%nt!.vis"'tel^''i%:rrf^^^^^^
poss.b.hty ever ^ear such a loS as îhat You sÏÏl ^ "?
my picture not ohce, but twce--once for T ^?n ^^'"i
once foradear old ladv rRom^SL » ^- ^^î"^^^ ^"'l
rubies-Grandmrmma Carîr^ ^^° '"^ P"^« '' "^^^ ~
^j^ He looked up. a faint flush under the golden tan of his .
"Youmeahthat?"heasked. ■
ûs dotr^o^D^net" '''' ^''"" "^'^ ^"' ^"^ "^^ ^°«o-
"I shall take it as a favor," chîmed in Lady Dvnelv
^Jo,i are both .eiygood." he says, quLly.^ "i ^
\:^- .-'1
~:^.
l
•
- .
^4«
'
-
A • •
'
1
■0' ,
É ■-•
1 V
,
. • s«
^
\j-s
1 ) .
-t-fâ
i^^4ff^'-' '''
CHAPTER VI.
Il
THE LORD OF TUS LAUD.
»»
f
-■*>;
lALKING up and down the pier of Saint-Jean-
sur-Mer, on the Brittany coast, uader the broiling
sea-side sun, waiting for the English packet an-
chored out in the roads, is a young English gentle-
man. The July sky i^ blazing blindingly hère by the sea ;
the heat quivers like a white mist over the water; not a
breath of air stirs the chestnuts or labiirnums, and the
streets of Sairit-Jean lie ail baked and white in the pitiless,
brassy glare of that fiçrce midsummer sun.
But in ail this tropical dazzle and heat the young English-
man saunters up and down, and looks cool and la'nguid
stilL His summer suit of palest gray is the perfection of
taste; his boots, his gloves, perfection also; and the hand-
kerchief which he flirts once or twice across his face is of
finest cambric, etnbroidered with a coroneé and nionogran^,
and perfuraed with attar of violets. He is tall and very
blonde, as shapely as a woman, broad-shouldered, slender-
waisted, long-limbed, and very handsome. His coniplexion
is délicate as a girl's ; for such blue eyes and blonde curls
many a fair one niight si^h with envy ; very handsome, very
effeminate. He has a little golden mustache, waxed into
minute points ; a straw hat is thrown carelessly on his fair
hair. He is the most beautiful, the most noble, the most
perfect of ail mep, in one woman's eyes at least. He is
Eih, Lord Viscount Dynely. He walks up and down, and
waits for the boat which is to convey him across the chan-
nel, to his home and the lady he is to marry. But he is in
no hqt haste about it ; he has put oflf the evil day as long
as pojàible.
F^ce Forrester is a pretty girl, an élégant girl, a dever
1
s
h
b
c
■^.,^ .
J- ■/
•sgff^'AxA.i. A. ^.u^t -) -
>; t.\ \ie '-'*
■ ». >
'J «
;ii::
^t ".^--v'f;A^,-5i>rtj,^«^'
" ^-«e ZOiPZ? Ofi THE LAND»
a suspicion of blûe in f hf f ' , - *^''''" <^'ever wonien •
charm of the d^mfes Vo. anT'^M^' ^°"'^ outweigh tïé
settled thing among S polers th^K °" !f '*'^- ^ti» it is a
Peçts it, no doubt f and kTs lesî «r ï h ^""^ P^^"" ^'•■^"<=« e^'
yield gracefuUy, and Tac fice h ™-I? ^°v °" ''"'^ ^^°'^' *<>
And, besides, as a w fe h! rS' a^ T^^ * ^"«^ about it
te4V&Lta's^heTe;^s& " «a ,uar.
he draws froni his niket ^nH^ ^^^f i«^" jewelled rep^ater
half-past. Sharp, and n™w it i^ ' ^^e prom.sed to be hère at
good health, good t^te and fin **• ^°™^ ^'■°" yo"tb
Dynely's last Airtee, me^îa Satî t'^'T» ^^^ » ^ord
nnniites she had witT-d hl f/'"^-Jefn bail, where in ten
affections. He had iol fX^'^^™ his ficLfe
oiterings. with the intemL of rrn^^*"' "^^ ^" ^P^^'^h
lo ! a fortnight had passed «nH . °*^ ''''^'' ^* «»«, and
vivacious F^nch tonï^e h,3 hdd Z"^ '^'""^ ^^^^ *"d ^
since. The two weeS pSo„ Ll J'"" «n rose chains ever
he was going, and madaSTe S promfsXÎ^'^r "> ^^^
bid him adieu on the pier Wh JT lu '^ '"P ^^'^ and
creed to become France Forr- ? J? T\ *^^ gentleman de-
The fifteen .nfnSpass Xv'^'ii^^'^ ^"^ ™^'«--
-th his tall, fair he:^&dev?tif ^JS ïf^îî^^r^' ^*
bluc eyes speaking whole encycSL J? ' 5». éloquent
tion. He is one of those men^h!? /*^ ^y^àyxxi^, AevK>.
8> «na cnrow themselves mto the moment'»
-«>.'
>>
i.j4«'jlrt>*v .
.M;"
^ï"
t?,'
< i' :•'
< a" ••
ii-r»»- "•'■(!--„
13»
" TItE ZORÏ> OP THB LAND.
»»
Wle With ail thé dcpth that is în tKeno. One of those me*»
bom to be worshipped hf women, and to make cheni suffer
mercilessly ât his hands. Not rdbitstly bad in an/ wày,
but siniply without an ounce of ballast, in hin^ bôdy or
soûl. ";
Eleven strikes froni àll the clocks of Sain î-Je^n- sur-Mer—
ihe fatal hpur bas corne. There are tears ip mtalânîe's black,
doll-like eyes as she whispers adieu ; beau^Ç«^ pale, sadl
and tender Lord Eriic looks. He wavA the perfunied
coronetéd hàndkerchief from the upper deck>^^a§ long as f he
is in sight, still ihournful and pale to look upon despite the
height of the thernionieter. Then he laughs, puts the hànd-
kerchief in his pocket, lights a rose-scented cigarette, sélects
a shady spot on deck,«orders his valet to fetch him that làst
novel of George Sârid,'and m five minutes bas as. completely
forgolten the Woman he has lef^^i^^the girl he is going to.
He reàches Lobdon. Itis ifresert, of course. Every-
body has gone. Sorae three million are left, but they don'jt
count Hé looks in weary disgust at the empty, sun-scorched
West End streeés,^ at the bleached parks, the forsaken
Ladierf Mile, and goes down iat once to Devonsbire. And
in thy cool of aperfect suramer evening he reaches the Vil-
lage station, and as he is not expected, is driven in a fly, like
an ordinary mortal, to the Abbey gâtes. There is a garden
party of sônïe kind, he sees, as he stroUâ languidly up to the
hoùse. Thiâ gentleman, who has not attained his raajorily,
has a certain weary and Worn-out air, as though life were a
very old Story indeed, ànd rather a tiresome mistake — the
"nqthîng new, ând ûothing truerand it don't signify " man-
:ùer to perfection.
It is a mpst exquisite evening. Overhead there is a sky
' like Italy, golden-gray in the shado#, primrose and pink in
Âelight, a fufl moon rising over the tree-tops, a few bri^ht
stars winking fàcetîously down at grini old earth, a fainç
breeze just Stirrihg the roses, and clematis, and jessa-
mine, and honeysuckle, ànd Wàfting abroadsiibtle incense,
ànd thè nightingâles piping their musical, plaintive vespet
song. It i s unutterabl y beautiful, but to alUts beauty Lord
song. It i s unutterably tjeauti tui. Dut to aii its peauty x^orq
"^My is aëàîïna lÉ&a. It bas Mèaà
^«**
X
V,
»1
b
I
I
r
«
ti
•feiî'
.■^«
'sf V itf' i^ipi,^i%i/«j
""*'*^-^;s»e.«.
V.
V
^'
^V -rr .■,-;•• î-, "<! -Sk-Î^
" r/Kff Loxi> Oit TÉtE land:*
«33
►5'
;,^
JW he kùon^ u 13 rather cooler now, that is ail. What he
does see is a grÇmp of fair English girlsj in robes of white,
and pink, and pale green, playing croquet undçr the beeches.
and his tired eyes light^^little at the àight. Vgtierever and
whenever Lord Dynelymarlightupon a preft)^:pC orgroup
of theni, ail his eartKly trouble^ yanish at ohce. Ifwas a
weakness, inany cynical friands àaid, inhêritêd honestly
enough froin his late noble father.
The group clicking the croquet balls did not seë him, but
fif \c^ "^""r' * ^"^"f standing on the terrace,gazing
thoughtfuUy at the twilight shadow», did, and theré was \
quick start, a quick uprising, and a rush to taeet him, a
glad, joyful cry: , •' '
" Oh, Eric I «ly son ! my son !"
He perniitted her embracé rather than returned it. It
was too warm for powerful domestic émotions ofany sort» .
Jiric thouffht, and then women always went in for kissing '
and raptiHes upon the smallest provocation. He let'himself
be embraced, and then gently extsicated hiraself, andglanced "
backward at the group. * '
^i,"'^^??"^* party, motherl" he sail «Do I know -
them? Ah, yes, I see the Deveres and the Dorman cirls?
•IsPrance—? Howis France? She is not among them? " "
i^rance is somewhere in the grouftds. Oh, my boy ! hoW
good it seenis to hâve you at home again— how anxiously\
bave awaited your coming. We expected you in Londôn atS
the begmninç of the season."
'• We ? " his lordship sayS, interrogatively.
"France and 1. Do you know, Eric, that France has
been the sensation of the season, the most adraired girl in
London. Lord. Evergoil proposed, and was rejected ; but.
Enc, you ran a great risk."
"pidl? Oflosing Miss Forrester? I could hâve sur-
• vived rt," he answers, coolly.
" Don't say that, Eric— you don't mean it, I know," Lady
Dynely says, with a sinçularly nervous, fdghtened look.
You cannot do better— it is impossible. She is of one of
.he olde.stfamilies in the kingdom ; shtfis handsome , accom.
TJiBlicd, and Tasanatirig, abd die caoM îhto two fortunes»
^ '
^^Ld^Ê^^^L,*^
^^;2^i^/ïv,
^>.
V
i
c
134
"!»» Z0«Z> OF THB LAl/D»
.. her own «nd Mrs. Çaryll's. Eric, I shaU break hiy héart jf
you do not.marry her." ' < ^ .
" Hearts don't break, dear Uiother— physicians hâve di*
. covered that ; it is an explodcd delusion. And as to Misi
J-orrester-s acconîpUsl>raqnts and fascinations, do you know
I rather find that sort of young person hang heavy on hand
•-l^prefer people of less superhuraan acquirements. For
the fortune— we 1, I may not be a Marquis of Westminster,
but the rent roU ra.a noble one, and its lord need never sell
himselfi"
Lady Dynely has turned quite white— a dead,, gray pallor
—as she hstens. Is he going to throw over France and
her fortune after ail? , Must she tell him the truth in order
to make hini speak ? Before she can tum to him àgaiiî, he
speaks, more cheerfully this time.
V 7'™.! epough for ail that," he says ; " don't look so mie
and ternfied, mother miné, One would think I were a pau-
per, reduced to heiress-hunting or starvation. Where is
France ? I will go in search of her, and pay my respects "
L kl '^^"^ " ^^^ ^'""^ ""^^^ ^^isin hour ago with Mr.
" Mr. Locksley ? A new name. Who is Ut. ipbcksley ? "
Mr. Locksley is an artist ; he is paintingjPfence's pdr-
trait He made a hit at ths.Acadeujju*ffryear, and I pre-
vailed upon him to corne with us down beré."
" Oh, y(îu did I' And he is received enfamme, I suppose,
and France takes solitary stroUs with him, does she?" re'
sponds Eric, lifting his eyebrows. " It seems to me, my good
mother, you don't look after your only son's interests «> verv
sharply after alk The lime >^alk, did you say? I will go
and flush this covey at once."
He turns away. His mother stands where he has left her
and watclies the tall, siender figure, the slow, graceful walk.
He grows handsomer every year," she thinks, in her love
and admiration « Go where I will I see nothing like him.
Oh, xay boyl if you only knew that you may be a very
pauper indsed. That on the mercy k Tcriy Dennisoi
your whole fortune may hang. If l could only summon
^""^ ^^ ^°^ ^ this déception, and s ecrery ^ ^nd s„^_
't
\
•aW'» z 4
tït .~'.
•■:#f
':^jiiJk
j^iij'
^ ■«
lg#^.
-:^§"'-r',vT4t'
>f
A
'V
.~,''-M4^
'■-V.-**"'..'/,^'
- TBE LORD OF TUE LAND»
t-
pcnsjatonce. Terry is so good, so generous, he loves me
80 ; he IS fonder of Eric than any brofhcr ; he wouW mXî
d e than g.ve pe pain. That is n,y only hôpe. îf the £
sLif^gt^ro?: ?:sX?^" *^^ ^"^--•^' »- -^"
grâce and élégant languqr wanting, only manly stremrth and
n omei'î ^ '^' ^^ ^^^P^augh co.nes\o K tïe
moment, clear apd merry as ahy school-boys.
Terry vnllbav^ mer<gr," she thinks; «he is the soûl of
Llr^ Jl ?'^ commission, his five hundred a year, and the
rll n"^-,rK^'' he returns from Lincolnshire, and J kno^
I feel, ail will be well. And yet,"— her eves went wi,S
"rïace^if" ^"^T^ °'.Pf ^ ^"^ woo'd J" a^d^gllif aS
S of ?h7^"-«*^^«" »«d fountains, ail silvered in the radi-
ïre nnî 1 '""""•^' moon_"it is agréât 8acrifice~a s^ri-.
lice not one man m a hundred woùld make."
^ Meantmie Lord Dynely had strolled down the lîme walk "''
and emerged Upon a sylvan nook, cômmandinr a vte»
reaâ'^'\r?ar"'th'' distant shining sea. "iSlft ^l^^
reached the ear— the moon left a track of radiance as it
sS!p saT: ' '"'"' ''^* ^°' *'^ '^ ^«^«^ P'^^^S 11 .
«li?. Î^K**'"?, °^ gauzy white, Miss Forrester sat in a
rûstic chair, blue nbbons floating, trailing roses in the rirh
î>rownness of her hair agréât bu^ch of ifliS of The îaSeï ^
m her ap, another cluster in the bosom of her dress. Her
coquettish « Dolly Varden" hat lajr on the gSss SSïde her
ïv andTa.r^.S'^'^' f"ll of dreJmy ligh^^-thTshinrng
VJJ Sfa» .and the man who lay on the sward at her feet
Ai^Jo*ejrw(^jTbe_brief ni^
fi Kvd, and bàbblë, ao^ ^^S}
n8MS=
t-
.^.
Al^ÔiÉ^i^^
-vw
•r "■;^»w.»,*
'\
#.
tp=^
For one who wUl never be thr*. ^
But mine, bat rainer So I «wear to the rose.
'f
I ......
lows, with their I?ng ha°? Lnd D.Vttï, ' those painting fel-
blouses, always piaf A^'m^if f "?"* ^^^^' *"<^ ^elvet
to think one of the pSudLt t^<f k '7'"''°™ ^^ "«^^
flirtation wa's a &rr,e'Ko^"e?^^ar,^^^^^^^^
herself very well at home, it seemed wK,! u *^"'*' *™"5é
self abroad. ' ^^^^^^^ ^hile he amused hirn-
" Taking people by surprise i§ a mistake T ««H » k -^
advancing. «• if i don't dUfrnrh f,,'""^*'^^' ^ ûm. h« said;
ter. perhaps you ^11 C Cnd «„^ ^''^'^'"^I' ^^' ^''''^'-
pleasure came into his cvesJhe ^J^a T^^ ^^^ °^ «"«a»
Lod tslex smiled.
^^Tt
>-' ^
-.--,• ' -~
|^>rfC¥f
f^'
*' THE LORD O^ HH^agf^^ffjyn ^^^
would remember ? t7o vearl is a ro^^ ^h""" ï?"'4^telj he
«PirniVoi o» . /^o yfars is a considerab e time."
the same." ^ ° '"^ P''""" "> "«tyou hère ail
wJ3','îhel'„T''ir„lf ^. »■>?■»•?">«. -alked back .o-
-me e»,ÎL5S"#„ût ShVndtsZL "'
shimng -with pleasure ' ' "onest eyes
hidalgo oJt thrrrhrd%otS^,!~ ^'*"«^', '°."^ °'^ Spanish
fifth fib in some dik^tief"^ T"- T^^'' »»»«
with delight " ^"^ '"'^'■' »^ beside herseU
hand express tie émotions o? tVe Vv^^X'^^^r^^^^
are^tnpp^ng the «ght fantastic in.therell^hXwc^oiJ:
They enter
i
,^r
■' .V
v/<.<
' m
^T>A
kj, •, -*— tr-'y»"»?"
■• t.
t
- J* •
I
138
"7»£ ZÔ^Z) O^ 7WK LAATD/*
his présence makes itself felt directly. He is in excellent
spirits — thruws off his languor, forgets to be blasé, and
waltzes like a student at Mabille.
France déclines ; it is too warm, she says ; she will re-
lieye Lady Dynely, and play, Mr. Locksley rtakes his
adieux speedily and départs.
'* How hâve you corne to pick up Locksley, France .' "
Eric asks, later on.
"Pickhimup? I don't quite understand. He painted
the picture of the year, sold it for a fabulous sum, was over-
flowing with Orders, and, as a spécial favor to Lady Dynely,
consented to throw; over'everything else, foUow us down
hère and paint my portrait."
She speaks with a certain air of constraint, which Lord
Dynely does not fail to notice.
"Ah, very kind of hitn, of course. Very fine fel^w,
Locksley, and very clever artist, but a sort of reserve about
him, a sort of niystery, something on his mind and ail that.
One of the sort of men who hâve an obnoxious wife hidden
away in some quarter of the globe, like Warrington and
Rochester in the novels. I must see the portrait — is it a
good one?"
" Very good, I believe— I hâve given but two or three
sittings as yet."
" How long has he been hère?"
"Afortnight."
A pause. He looks at her as he leans over the back of
her chair. She is slightly pale still, rather grave, but very
handsome— 2/^ry handsome. She has improved, Eric thinks,
complacently, and dark beauties are his style, naturâUy. A
-very crédible wife, he thinks ; a fine, high-bred face to see at
one's table ; and if there be a trifle more braîns thah one
could wish, one can excuse that in a wife.
. " I must get Locksley to make me a daplicate," he says,
bending over her, and putting on his tender look. " France,
ytfh hâve not said you are glad to see me yet."
" Is it necessary to repeat that formula ? " she answ«rs,
_rarclftfj!s]j, "That is takên forgranted, isit not?"
t"*o i""^» t.
"Twas detained at Saint Jean," he goes on. *< ï bave
>'•/ 'J-
' ' -î :»!: - - ,; !"/'^\ ^Jf^Â.-Aïf^:^'''^ '
r ^'1
*1l. >
1 f
r
-W^" '^
" THE LORD OF THE LAND»
139
"Yes, I can imagine," France answers, and suddenly ail
face. " I can imagine the burning itiipetuosity, the fever ôf
longmgwuh whichyou rushed acToss thè PyLees across
France and home Eric, that sort of thing SLTdo ve'
weli m Spam, but don't tiy it with me " ^
" Merciless as everi Your London season bas agreed with
you, France. I never s^w you look so welI. AnTthe feme
Of your conquests bave reached even the other side of the
Pyrénées. Ho«r others siew their thousands and Miss For!
rester her tens of tbDusands. How men went down befoie
f. t'^l^'^^ f.'^"';^' "'^^ ^o^n before the re#er."
. My dear Enç," Miss Forrester replies, polilely shruir.
gingwuh a yawn, "don't you find it feti^i^g ^ talk s1>
Teâbes. Bufir" ' 'f'""^ °' yours^to^make long
speeches. But I suppose two years' hard practice of the
language of compliments must telL" ^'"'-"ce 01 the
"Corne out on the terrace," is what he says, and in soitc
of berfejnt résistance he leads her there. He is «oK
more and more charmed eve^r moment-not deepfyriove^
iate?n"'°^''ï'"""^e"^ prett^ace. HeisasKS
nated now as he was by madame last week as he may bTbv
any one else you please next, and thoroùghly in eSiS at
the moment. Why should he delay ? Whf no co^to the
Z^n^En-gL^d ^^^"^' ^^-- -"^^ ^^ -^^^
^T?;tr^^'^^^^ ^'•^«^^"^^ ^here they^tTd. ' ^""'^ .^'^'^
« V l Z'"*"'^ ^'8^'' " ^'^a^ a Perfect night ! » A"
to the sky ; " veiy neat thmg in the way of moonshine And
nioonhght hours were made for love and ail that L mS
says so, doesn't he, France ? » * P^*
^M
'!?j
.,î- , i
*' Ah, France, you mày laugh at me — **
■JLb. ..?*
140
"ttÔff £OitZ* OJ^ t^É LAND*»
•,-
^t-i»^
_ I am not laughing ; I néver felt less facetious in my life.
My prin<:ipal feeling, at présent, is that it Js half-past eleven,
that I am tired aftertwo hours* croquet, and that I should-^
and will say good-night, and go to bed."
"Not just yet." He takes her hand and holds it fast.
What a pretty hand you hâve," he says, tenderly; "a
model for a sculptor. Will you let me put an engagement
.ring among ail those rubies and diamonds, Frînëe? I
J^'t^y^mt^^^-^'^ ^""^' ^°" ^^'".-^-' -^ y-
^^France laughs, and looks at him, aJd draws away her
' ' "' • '
**There came a laddie hère to woo.
And, dear, but he was jimp and gat;
He stole the lassie's heart away.
And made it ail his ain. Oh. "
h«7°V^?'"'? *°'^"° *™^' 1'°''^ ^^"ely. Really the
haste and ardorofyourjove-making takes one's breath away
J^Jt^ll ""^1"°^ tl^a» I know what to do with-another
WDuld be the embarrassment of riches. Eric, let us end this
force. You don't care a straw for me. You don't want to
mairy me any more than I want to marry you. Whvshould
we hore each otheç wjth love-mâking that means nothing. It
wil disappomt twogood women a little— but that is inevi-
.H„iî* ^ '° r"' "?°^'^''' "''^ * ««««J ^oy» and te» hfer she
inust make up her mmd to another daughter-in-law "
^^His eyes light-mpposition always détermines himforright
'• I will never tell her that. I love you, France-have
loved you always— you alone shall be my wife."
" Enc, do you expert me to believe* that ? "
"I expect you t« beliéve the truth. And if after ail
hese years-after what has passed betwéen us, you mean
to thruw me over— " ^
" After what has passed betveen us I " she repeats, look-
ing at him full, «I don't uhderstand that, Eric U^at has
eyer passed between us?"
^Vuu know I hâve teved^lSïï— you aiTûol qui» cast
" %
Mm m ,1^,
15-
" ^ '. 'f ■* " -^/
« f mZn" ?'f" *° ''^'^ "\^ ^° '"^^^ ^ <^°'"P^ct as that?"
do not Ele X'tff' ""' "" '^ "°^* "'^^^^^^^^ 'f y°-
hnM^"^?^'?^''" '^^ ^^' ""^ef J»er breath. "You will
hold Me to this tacit understanding_to which I haVe Lver
been a party, mind-whether I will or no ?" ^
, He only repeats :
^i^°.!?nr'; ^y^"*'^' I ^ant you for my wîfe."
Sfte stands lookmg at the softly luminous night at' the
dark trees and white shadows, her face >àle! hef ps it
her eyes darkly troubled. ^ ^
"tol«M ""^f""— " « ungenerous," she cries out, presentlv
to Hd me to a compact to which l hâve never cSnsented
unk'nd "°Yoa do^'';'!^ dishonorable, but, Eric, it i^mos;
unkmd. Youdo«^/ love me— ah, hush— if you protested
forever I would not believe you. I know vou I thJnl
Slnt"treek';°" ^T"^^ You mTn Ta't Lis'mol
S th^ sort of wff° f '"'^ ^°'^^' ""y ""^'y ^'^'^^^''^^e- I am
taJtl t?. / r^^f"" y°"— yo" want an adoring créature
to sit at your feet and worship you as a god. there I "she
tprns .mpatiently away; "let me alone^ I can gfve ytu
no answer to-mght. The dewis falling ; let us go in I h^te
to gyieve Mrs. Caryll, I hâte to dtsap^'iné youfmot'her-îJr
^ " Fra3°'"''"'" V^ ^"y '^^'^ be, I doq't care a whit"
France, you are heartless," he says, angrily.
Fri TS^T^y t^^"-^ ï^^ '^"*'?- Gi ve me upf Let me go
Eric— Il Will be better for us both " w»e go,
" I will never let you go," he answers, sullenly « If vou
throw «,e over, well and good_I must submit-in^y it J^ilS
be hke France Forrester to play fast and loose with^any maS"
»V.71 ^^^"P°" ^"» i" the moonlight their ^ï^ fire
«You do well to say that," she retorts. «Yqu of S
Z A^Tu""^ * ''^^i ï cannotanswer to-night If a
I '1
kiSKrlïS^Tr' '" '•" **-^-'"'^ "'>'"r«'
I ,.
. !^>f^«
<# , J
2-:
> '-
Fs '
CHAPTER VIL
A week's rÉprieve.
IISS FORRESTER goes to her room and sits at the
j;'^d?«^. after the fashion of girls, and looks out.
I She had ndver taken this aflFair of the proposed
co,-^ /".lance s«riously for a moment befbre. She had
8a.d, and with truth, that she understood Erié better than he
understood Inmself. Somewhere; ih his wanderin^ Kit
caodmf hST "P°\f ^^ «yP^r. girfish face, that wouW
captivate his susceptible, romantic heart— nô, not heart—
sort of man to sneer at matnmony, because it was a bynical,
t upon the shghtest provocation. To be " oflF with the old
ër^ïricrfor ^'^"^^•"" ^ "°"-'^ notic:^;^°j^
-laughed J hjs love-making, parodied his pretty st^cS
treated him much as she treated Terr/, with a sort of fun. "
Jovinjr,elder-sistermanneri only she had a real respect for
Dennison she never feit for Dynely. ^
won? to^lv''^" v^^^i^ '"^'^ ^ nian as you, Eric," she was
Jhan i \T^' * 7?"^*'*r^,.^ 8''^*' ^«^^ fairer complexion
than I hâve, ând I don't hke doUy men. You curl your
hawr; you wa:s that little callow mustache o£ vours- vou
t^otrancTT'ï ,"'' " ""'^'i y^^ ^«'^ moreSutV^j;
v^ L "^ .?^°^ ^"""«^^ J'r^'" " **» » yo"n« duchess; and
y^ihaven't an ounce of brains in yoji from ton to toe
^î? !L ^** ^^^^^^ " is this—that the mân I marry ~
shall be a manly man and a élever lian. -You, my po2r
.V)^.^îî"\w«sv'
uJa^
r ' -i-> — .11.11, 'ipi-wi— ^T wnjtmxm
^ WEEK'S REPRIEVE
143
™ai. ''"°'' ""■''=^" ?™ >""«". «i"- an irrépressible
'^\:^J^ izzTS^ ""«
Never, France— really ? "
n»"^yrif^™r;^''i"îr,'' """• ■«'"• ' -"""W"'' •
invZii «he SH*?X"Men2^"V?? '" "^"^
weB ever to love vm. ï„j "'a-'naidenhood. I hke yo» too
•■ Rel ly I " ^c ;en^a« 11»^^° '°'l*' ""■" ' ''^''
»s to be a king among men— " * "®
Dyn^r ^'"^ '^ "^ '■*'•*■*"■' P"'» i» yonng Lord
"Wiihoutfearandwithoutreproach. Yes. eiac.1. m».
«ri;'ToU°:irt^i^?it«l%?
strong man, a brave man, a her^» ^^ ^'' ''^*' ' ''«* »
î ^ »" Captain Jin ks, of th^ HoïBfr Ma««^^^^™_
Sïsï^2iF^^K«t^
rï'a*^
-11,"
1r;û
U"^
».'-
r
>«
144
-rf WEEK'S REPRIEVE.
-i,,-
; " A man I can look up to, be proud of, who will do some«
thing in the wprid; anything but a handsoine dandy who
parts his hafl- in the middle, who wears purple and fine lineq, .
and whose highest aim in life is to lie at young ladies' feet ;
and drawl out jthjgi eternal passion that consumes him — a
gentleman whose loves are as numerousas the stars, and not
naïf so eternal." .
In this spirited way Miss Forrester had been used X,o
rebuff her would-be lover, and did sometimes succeed in
piquing Eric into deserting her in disgust.
A young lady^o strong-minded as this at sixteen, what
was she likely to fll ,at twenty ? He j)itied her for her lack of
taste— other girls went down before those blue eyes of his,
for which Miss P'orrester expressed such profound contempt.
It had never really meant much with either of thera until
this night on the terrace. And this night on thé terrace
Lord Dynely had been in earnest at last.
. In some way her honor was bound — more or less, while she
had laughed at the wished-for alliance, she had yet accepted il.
Miss Forrester had a very high sensé of honor, and was an ex-
ceedingly proud girl. To play fast or loose with any man, as
Eric had said, was utterly impossible. In no way was she a
coquette, Men had admired her, had fallen in loye with her,
had wanted to anarry her ; but the mistake had been of their
own making ; she had never led thenak^n. If, indeed, then,
her honor and truth stood compromised hère, she must
marry Eric. He did not love hei^/Aaf she knew as well
now as she had known it always; if she marriedliim, she
would be a most unhappy, unloved and neglected wife —
that she aiso knew. And yet if he held her to it, if Lady
Dynçly held her to it, if Mrs. Caryll held her to it, what
was she to do ? To grieve those that loved W was a trial
to her generous nature, and she was of the âge and the kind
to whoni self^sacrifice, self-abnegation, look great and glo-
nous things. Yes,* it would résolve itself into this— if Lord
Dynely held her to their compact, she must marry LokT
pynely.
^d-ihfltt out of the mi a t o f tha ninni^ligh»^ t^ » fa^ ,. p f
■*..:
i,
Tôcksley arose, Ihe grave, reproachful eyes, the bioad,
■#
«bf!;;_5îi„-.^-,»> ';•>« ■.'ft.y .■■u • vj;vi- -.i<.'~--'V-^i4'^S.^*.^i«4''^fÀA!.s*s^sà|^ , \
WA
-TiS&«î"^
A WEEK'S REPRIEVE
' '45
bacuS: "" ""'""'^' "»■=" "««i^ of Eric can..
wife °Wd<^l '^S^^m "^ ""= "■ oXnoxiou,
.urnjdcold aTSe"ho"gh..'°Wa:'.S^„''f„vfl?'"" -^^
anything beyond a iValnnc «T . f- ^^yt'^'ng m it—
day of his life, and that life no common^^^^^^^ ^7
ner tram of thoueht brok<» • ckÏ f .' ^"^ sighed ;
Word and actj a ^xiTXTT.r^J'f''^^^ ^^ "» every
honor to anv man in Fnllo S **L^ *S^"' ^^o would do
at St. l^Z^TVl^tyàJ^^ir^^
and HonitoS lacL!aS3 how alUhe J.IT''..'''^"" ^'^^'^
envy him. In his love m^t^nt o • ™^ ^® ''"«^ ^o"W
become hère or do .^ g.^^ ^^i^^^.^^^^^^^^ '
"«tr^i«rat^,ordo<4thliS^n, eS? r^hf*fu^
dupjiçate I spoke of Franri -r^ ^^ œust hâve that
v^^ oi, i-rance. To possess the original
■s
h'
S. ' • - * ' „ -.^AiA.;
^^"
.*.-
,'J*
s
lt€^
146
r
A WEE/P^ REPRIEVR.
will not content me ; I must hatre the counterfeit présent*
ment also."
This in a tender whisper and 3 look, from under thé long,
blonde eyelashes that had done killing exécution in its time.
It missed fire, however, so far as France was concerned.
" I doubt if Mr. Lxicksley will take time 'to paint dupli*
. cates, Eric. Men who make their mark, as he bas done,
db not generally df vote themselves to portrait painting.
Hère he cornes nôwlf
Her color rose as she said it — her pale cheeks took a tint
tivalling her dress. Lord Dynely saW it ànd frowned.
Mentally, that is ; so ugly a thiffg as a frown seldom marred
the smooth fairness of that low brow.
" Capital fellow, Locksley," he said, carelessly. " Saw a
^ great ileal of him at one time in Naples. Can tell a good
story, and knock off a neat after-dinner speech better than
N. any man I know. The set he lived among — painting fellows
ail— used to drop hints, though, about that discarded wife.
There is one somewhere, dépend upon it, and Locksley
didn't Uct over and above well in the business, it was under-
stood."
France turned upon him, herself again, a look of cool
conterapt in lier eyes. «^-'
" Eric, don't be ill-natured. I hâte womanîsh meiT, and
there's nothing on earth so w«|^ianish as to slander ab^nt*
firiends. We do that ; but let us rctafiinhe copyright.".
And then she turns away and goes over to Mr. Locksley,
Iboking proud and lovely, and holds out her band in^rdial
■ welcome.
V Oqc may hâve a look at the portrait, I suppose,
ley ?" Eric suggests, unabashed.
Mr. Locksley assents; and they adjourn to the painting<
room — Terry, who drops in. following in their wake. It is
in an unfini^ed state as yec,' lacking in ail détails, but it is
' a beautiful and striking picture.
' From a cloud of misty drapery the face looks vividly out,
the lips gravely smiling, th e ser ene eyes eamest and^
— laminwâ to tliéw Vèry depths, lOl eHierealized expression"
iotensifying its beauty. He has idealized it unconsciousî/
^
^iiÊSi.^^t. ,
^ {■^t'-k'iy.
i.->t«|Si|^
^1
- 1' ■\ ' 'M
'r
\ -vIls^îïV/.'.'
' vVV^''*'"'^'^?sÉ*î?"^i''Y'/^''''*'^''''^'^--'^^ ''**' *'^ *" <'■»■' '^"''^< '■ '* 5'
^ WEEIPÈ RËPRIEVE,
147
— a handsome gtrl has sat to hitn — ^he has painted a divin<^
ity. • ' "
France stands and looks, and her face flushes. Ah I she
has never worn that look. She knpws she is of the
earth, earthy — ^very little of the angel about her, after alL
And he has painted more an angel than a woman.
" He'm," says Eric, i^ith his hand over hîs çyes, critically»
** *ery good — very pretty; indeed. Paint a halo round her. m
and call it St. Teresa, or St. Cecelia at once — it looks like
that sort of thing, you know. Jt's a pretty picture, but it
isn't you, France ; that is not your natural expression."
" No," France says, under her breath. " I am sorry to
say it is not."
"AndI prefer your natural expression," goes on Eriçi
" It is very well done, as I said before, but it doesn't do you
justice." •* , " '
"And I think it is grossly flattered," puts in Terry,
gruffly.
France bestows upon him à look of absolute gratitude.
" Flattered ! I should think so, Tefry. Tha^ face Mr. -
Locksley has painted out of his inner consciousness, and is
what France Forrester should be — what, I regret to add, she
is not." ' *
Mr. Locksley takes no part in the discussion; he goes
steadfastly on with his work. Terry yawns loudly, whistles
in an aimless way, thrusts his hands in his pockets, and
stares at the artisf s rapid movements, until France, whose
tJerves he sets on edge, orders him perçmptorily to leave the „
room. "Eric lingers, lounging in a deep window, looking^ •'
unutterably patrician and handsome in hb blackvdvet
morning coat, contrasting so perfectly with his pearMii^
complexion and fair hair. He remains ail through the sit-^
ting, he foUows France out into the Italian rose, garden
when it is over, he hangs about her like her sheid<Mir idl day,
and makes tender little speeches when he can. At dinner
it is the same — in the evening it is worse. He is really anch •
Iruly in earnest for the t inie. Whi ls t he ly a a sure of Iw-hcL^
was indiffèrent — now that he stands a chance 61 losing her
he w()rk8 hifnself into a fever of dévotion. She is in love
Ât *^ f
Al
-'m
" ■'lÀ'àfi-f^'atJiiàlt
•■■■,-•' ',■ '"T-lI'iT-»,
€.:■■}
ri'- »
:;;f
148
A WEEK*S REPRIEVE.
/
tnth Lockslcv, Loclcsley with her— that be seea. Th^t hit
a%)ut the hidden wife has stung. The green-eyed ta^mXtx
bl0w3 the slight lire of hisaflfection into a blaze. He wifl win
and wear Miss Forrester, or know the reason why. Frante en-
dures it as long as she can. That is not very long. At no
dme are patience and meekness her most notable virjtues ;
as Eric bends persistently over the piano for an houii at a
stretcb, the slight tbread of that patience gives way at l^t.
•♦ Eric, do give nie a moment's peace," she cries eut
"Go and pkjr chess with your mother; go and tal)c to
Terry or Mr.^teeves; go and noake love to Miss Hanfôrd ;
go and smoke a cigar ip the dèw; anything, only leave me
alone."
He starts up, his pride fairiy stunç. \
" As yott please. As I îun so disagreeable to you, sup-
pose I take niyself away from the Abbey altogether."
" I wish you would," she answers cordially, " for this we^
at least. You irritate me beyond measure haunting me in
this way. Leave me ^one, Eric, if you really care for niy
décision.'^ 7
" If I really care I " he reproachfully repeats. !
■"The vaotsi gênerons ^ou are, the better your chances
will be. Wheh the week is up, corne back if you like, for-4
for your ansïfrer.** \
"France! and îT^hat answer be favorable. Ifl Good
Heaven, itraustbe,"he cries. \
"Then"--her voice trembles, she tums her face away
from him in the glow of the waxlights — "then you will
never roore hear me complain of your attentions."
He lifts her hand and kisses it.
. ^ " I will g»," he says, gently. " Forgive me, France, but
Ihe thought of losing you is so — ^ /
" Don't," she says, in a voice that is alnâost one of pain. *
f Where will you go ? ** - ■
"To Lincolnshire— to Sir|Philip Ca^thertf plàà. I
hâve had a standing invitatioET to Carrùthers' CourI for the
past two years." -
"Wbat'a tbat about Llueoïnshi r c?" T
in^ "l'm «fr tliere—ai» you on the wing again, Eric ?"
. -- f
i-
A WEEJTS REPRIEVR.
"For a we«k, ye»— to Carruthers'. You're a Lincoln-
Bhire man, Terry— -do you know it ? "
" Do I not ? It 19 three miles froni Starliog vicarage^
Sball be glad to meet you there, dear old boy. Capital
fishing, best trout streams anywhere, prime shooting a little
.later on. We will —
■m
* .
" * We will hunt the bear and IwMiii, we will shoot th»^d taccoon,
We will worshq> Mumbo Jumbb in the Mountains of the Mo<>n ! ' "
tpouts France. •' There are nine prètty Misses Higgins— .
aren't there, Terry ? Don't let Eric poach on yourniancN*—
it is| in his line, you know."
Fçance was herself again. The prospect of a week to
quietly think the è»atter out was a great deaL And who
knew wbat even a week niight bring forth?
It ims settled that. they should go together ; Ladjr
Dynely's consent had been won at last.
" But, retneraber," she said at parting, looking anxiously
inte Terry's eyes, "you are to return in a week, and mean-
time you are to say nothing to :ft»Iiss Higgins. This I insist
upon. When you haye heard wîiàt I Jiave to say — "
He looked at her ih anxious wondefc" What could it be,
he thought, to make Lady Dynely wear that face of pale
affright ? What secret was hère ? He would obey her in ail
thin^; she hardly needed the assurance, and yet it was
with a darkly troubled face she stood on the portico steps
and watched the two^young naen disappear.
♦' Thank fortune," France breathed devoutly, "iw» rfiall
hâve a quiet week. Men are a mistake in a honsehold, I
bcgin to find. Like yeast in si^U béer, they tum the
peaceful stream of woman's life intô seething ferment."
" France," the elder lady said, takine both the girPs hands,
and loo)cing earnestly down into her ^es, M you are to give
Eric \&i answer when he retums— I know that. When doeg
. he retum?'^-'vY^ . . ^ .-. :,.,,- y ' W^'^ '
"In a wfeçk.*'^' ■ '" ^'' ''-''■
f ^~
TAHd thé ànswër wîirbe— " '^^ j
"l4«ly Dynely, you hâve no right to ask that When the
X*
!1
4
'î^ife^^SC'V ^^.>.
■J
\
^.-
4
■3f
■aV^^~*
150
-* WEEK'S REPRIEVB.
^ven tfyj^."*^ ^""^ '■^'"™' *° "^"^^ the answer shall b«
sigh!?^ dropped the hands and turtîed away with a heayy
' ouilîlJ''".??f ?^?"^ ^>°P^I P'^y." France went on,
quietly. If Enç's happiness were involved— if, indeed, he
loved me,after the tacit consent I hâve given ail thèse
nr»!' ï^ "^2^' '"'îi '°^^ '"^-^^ « Incapable of lov-
ing any one but himself. Oh, yesî Lady Dynely. even
you must hear the truth sometimes about Eric As î
• looks'SJ ' w\^'' ''™ well enough-be proud of hisgooS
s eve'r t .f f f ,T""'\?' ^^^^ "^ ' ^ a husband, ff he
is ever that, I shall detest him."
»' France 1»
and L'S- ^ Ï^S^»" y?"* do I not ? It is true. though,
m"iv ;7 • K °^ ?^ ^^^"^^ *^ honeynioon is over. u\l
to this compact, whatjg,left me but to yield ?"
rh-^" ""^ * IT^^^ e'""'' France ; you want a hero-a
SnZf^^^^^^^•'>""""^°*• Dear child, there are
C J^S^Jïr,r°"' «//^^l^io" with tilt and tournament.
You w U «a^ Enc, I foresee, and make a man^ of him
A 'y'" «°^»'o parhament, make speeches, and bea niost
Ob'^'^r^^'^ft^ *° '^^ ^Tn*"^ happiest;ife in England
Skk irh;.rf ff r ^""y ^ ^r^ y°" ^° ^^" *hat I wiU
« ï W,''^?" 'f *^>'s marriage does not take place."
And I wiU break mine if it does," France answers. with
a amous imle laugh. « Let us not'talk of it any mSe, jï
Ztt ^ "^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^'^'^ "« ^e not? We hâve a
week s grâce, and much may happen in a week. I hâve the
Vyn^y"' '""'"""^^ *^°""*^^^*'" ^' ^ wiU never ^LaSy
... --.r',^
;1
l
A.
K
>^
'
[
,**
*
'■
.^^
-
•'
î
.-4 - . :
•
-à.*.-
!»<?.
bSà
lï^fesTv^ iV^^^T^^il^^^^^^ -' I >^
-W
1 f %
■%x
, he
lese /
B to
lov-
vën
s a .
3od
he
■.,,1
;;
CHAPTER VIII.
"WHO IS SHE?'
jCENE, an o)d-fashioned country garden of an old-
fashioned country house ; time, the mellow, amber
hour before sunçet; dramatis personne, a young
man and a young girl ; names of dramatis personse,
Mr. Terence Dennison, of Her Majest/s th Dragoons,
and Miss Christabel Higgins, eighth daughter of the Rev.
William Higgins, Vicar of Starling, and beauty of the fam-
ily.
A beauty? Well, as Tony Lumpkin says, "Thafs as
may be." If you liked a complexion of milk-white and rose-
pink, the eighth Miss Higgins had it ; if you liked big,
childish, surprised-looking, turquoise blue eyes, there they
weré*for you ; if you liked a dear little, dimpled, rosy mouth,
there it was aiso ; if you liked a low, characterless forehead,
a round, characterless chin, and a feathery auréole of palest
blonde hair, the eighth ||^iss Higgins rejoiced in ail thèse
pfetty and pleasant gifts. If yo).i fancied a waist you might
span, a shape, small, slim, fragile as a lily-stalk, little Crystal
would hâve béen your idéal, certainly. Pretty ? Yes, with
a tender, dove-like, inane sort of prettiness, that does its
work with a certain sort of men. Mind, she had none;
depth, she b<^'l none ; knowledge of this biz, wicked world,
Bhe had noi." ; in short, she was man's idéal of perfect
womanhood, 'nfringing on no daim whatever of the lordly
sex. And Terry Denniaon was her abject slave and
adorer.
She was <;eventeen this sunny August afternoon. It
seemed to Torry he had idolized her — idolized was the way
Mr. Dennison thought it— ever since she had been seven.
-fihe^new she was pfetty— dove4ike innocence to the owir
■ ^
'm
1^ «,"a^.' <!;S(%)«^ 'i\.i^,fc.*ilVi.» ,ji.- !.idf«<«ti;t 4,
-,-*>
¥
152
••»WD zy ^isw/..
éXoXîSr'^^^^^^^^^ P-/^^ess as thoroughîy as any
a."d praised for those blue eyes^n'd ^^î?^^' ^nd kissed!
since the day, g( bibs and fuckS? ^t^7 J^"'^" ^^«'■
her seven elder- sisters snubbed /tS ^^^ ^^^ m seen
cakes and the sugar-plums aitVvl n?l*^'?^ T^^' ^"^^ the
thmgs uhad been ordered Slfh- ^ ^'^^^^^ ^tn^s of
she, hke the lihes of the fidd TJ3 ^^^""^^ *"^ "«"^ed :
gkesandsugar-plumsofWe 'r^^^^^ The
belonged by right divine tonZwvi^^.''^'^u*''^*y«>' ^^ey
hairand turquoise eyesT Lt !i/ f T^^ '""'' '»*'« y<^"ow
complexions, and the dîy-atdust Jln ^"r'' f** ^^^^kled
' She would niarry Terry Denn?,L '^"^ ^^'^ ^° the work.
ferry «ras, an o4oot7f The a L " /""'^ t^' *"^ be, as
whowas Teny's patroness Lh r° "f^" ^hisgreat lâdy
'^ould Presen7herat cSurt w^W-""^- ^?"'^ *"^« ^^ "P
and the world of her S„,no,, 3T ^""^ '"^ ^^' P^^ies
realuies. She would see thU hf J^ *^ ''^'=°"« ^^e world of
of whomTerryneveîtlr^dt^kfnï^rs!..^^^ f^^ ^^"«'?'
Forrester, who was to marrv hbf a /'^«?"* ^'«' France
beingsbftheupperwoKiil?' ^î"^' «'ho kne,^-these
her in tum. ^^ ^""^"^ '"'«ht condescend even to admire
-%e^n^rsrfï?^ " -^he
read mankind like a bo^k Xn thet hf " f ^'^^^^ ^" <^^n
Teny was in love with her hf3 1 '^ ^l^ ^hat complaint.
just as well a, Te^ himS,lf"^id^^f ^^' «he knew [
well; she wasn't in lové Sk; .*^^ hked Teny very
fonder of him than of any Xr "uni""' ^""i ^*'" ^« -«
he was a dragoon, and /L? t hJ ^ ^ "*" «he knew j and
^ jas a pity.^she'As w^ oS^^Lf ^'^<>ver'him '
w homely ; even beinir a dr^^S '^^«'fy""/. that he was
away with thf f ur » X i ?_*''^*goon co uld net p nhrgiy ^ n
y tn the fart that he waa hame^^;!,,!^^,^^
r
^^«•A^-i -^k^**. j
,1 '-«It
"»WO IS SHEf
153
«
None of the heroes of Miss Higgins' pet novek ever had
hair of that obnoxious hue. Still-one mustn't expect every-
thing in this lower world— papa and mamma instilled that
into her sentimental little noddle— it is only for beings
of that upper world— like Miss Forrester, for instance,
to look for husbands handsome as Greek gods, titled,
w-althy. Les»-favored mortals must take the goods theii
«ods provide, and be thankful. The wife of a dragoon, with
ve hundred a year, looked a brilliant vista to the "beauty
daughter " of the Vicar of Starling.
And now the question resolved itself. Why didn't Terry
speak ? He had written of his good fortune, of Lady
Dynel/s boundless kindness, and the Révérend Mr. and Mrs.
Higgms congratulated themselves that "Crissy's" fortune
was insured. Crissy herself simpered and cast dowh her
blonde eyelashes, and saw with secret satisfaction, the sour
and envions regards of the seven elder Misses Higgins, who
were verging helplessly toward the sere and yellow leaf.
Then Terry wrote of his speedy visit " And I really think,
Christabel, my love," said Mamma Higgins, **we might
begin making up the outfit It wiil take some time, and o\
course he cornes down with but one intention, that of pro-
posing immediately." And a few things were commenced.
The first week of August came, the big dragoon with it, his
frank face and good-humored eyes fairly luminous with de-
Iight at being with them again. Those eager, loving eyes
actually devoured Crystal ; not for five minutes at a stretch
could they leave that pretty doU face. He haunted her
everywhere, as a big, lumbering Newfoundland might follow
a htge curled, silkyKing, Charles. He looked love, he
huited love, he acted love, in ten thousand différent ways,
but he never spoke it. He blushed if she suddenly lookçd
at hun, stammered if she suddenly addressed him, touched
the little lily-leaf hand she gave him with the timidity char-
actenstic of big, warm-hearted men, vcry far gone indeed ; but
beyond that he never got " Miss Crystal Higgins, wilI
yo" ' "yry me ?" was a conundrum he nev er propounded.
^iàJ Mminns. Higgins' roatronl7 eyeil>êgatt ttf loSSlf al~Kînr
wrathfuUy over her spectacles, tlie seven elder Misses Higgini
Aci
. lâi . .; ''.'•u î'J-uïii^ ':-i
"Xt, ,
<■**'.
i^
.%
i'V '
jS4 ' "wao is sHBr*
. , , to c^st sisteriy, satirical glances after the beauty, and CryslaJ
herself to open those innocent turquoise orbs of hers to their
widest, and wonder what made T^ny so awfully bashful.
The last day btit one of the visit had corne and Terry had
not spoken. / . «vr
It was Crystal's birthday, and there was to be a Jittle fête •
croquet in the back garden— the faniily bleaching-ground on
ordinary^occasions-a tea-drinking under the apple-trees
afterward, and a dance by moonlight.
Th^ coftipany had begun to gather; but there were
Mamma Htggins and the seven other Misses Higgins tore-
ceive and entertain them, so Terry drew his idol's hand in-
side his coat-sieeve, andtledher away for a little last ïamble
o er the nioor among the heathér."
1 "^^So '^^J' to-morrowr, and I cannot tell exactiy how
. long ^dy Dynely may detain mp, so let me gather my
roses xvliile. they bloom," said Terry, growing poetical. as
, many young gentlemen do when in love.
"It seems tome, Terry," said the eigh^h Miss Higgins.
rather pettishly, "you are a sort of companion for Lad,^
Dynely s lap-dog, to fetch and carry, to comë and go, as you
îl^/ ?-^ ,X°" ^1«,«°° bjg, I should think, to let yourself
be treated like a little boy aUyour life."
It was not often Mlle. Crystal made so determined a stand
f ii u ^ or/uttered so spirited a speech. But mamma had
told her this very day that something must be done ; that if
6he couldn't bnng Terry to the point herself, papa must ask
, his intentions. A littlè firing of blank cartridge is very well
but if you want to bring down your bird, you must use real
powderand shot.
^Terrys face flushed. He understood the reprooC and
felt he deserved it. Love may be blind, but not quite stone
blind ; he saw well enough what was expected of him by
the vicar-s family, by the little beauty herself, and knew he
was exciting anger and ^ame for not.doing what he was
^ "):!"« to ào. He deserved this reproof, and reddened
«uiltily. Whar if Crystal knew it was by Lady Dynel/s
^^"1""'^. K^'^ °°^ ^^^ ^Pg^^^' how she would d espise him f
-Andiorthe^strâneiroccurrerto Mm that peihaps it was
■V
i
l
•
J'*
;,
1
•• H^ffO fS SIfEr*
ISS
lather unkind o^chat best of women to bave bonnd him to
this promise. • >
"I should never hâve corne down herc at ail untiî I was
free to say ail that is b my heart," he thought « Oh, my
. darUng ! before the sun sinks out of sight yonder, yoù
. would know hfe holds no thought half so swèet as the
thought of making you my wife."
Slw was loQkihg very lovely in this roseate evening lîght—
. but Terry thought when did she not look lovely ? She wore
flowing white muslin— she was that sort of ethereaî créature
who seemed born to wear whité muslin. She had a
bunch of roses in her breast, roses iiï her sash, roses in
'Jj^r nand, and a heartsbreakingiy coquettish "Dollj^ Var- '
qen " on hèr head. She ha^ à cascade of white wax beads
around her long, si im throat, and knots of blue. ribbon
streaming from he^ golden Ipclcs. The yellow sunsbine fell
jull upon the perfeçt face,without finding a flaw in it i^he
httle snowdrop of a hand rested-on his arm ;/the s»ft, affec.^
tionate, feproachful eyes Iboked Up at him wailing ih.pathetic
"You know I like you ; I know yo^r love me ; then why
don t you say so, Terry, and please mamma and me ? You
hâve only to ask and receive ; I think ît is a little too bad of
you to go on like tliis." That was what ,tha^reproachfuI
lutle look said, and Tdrry groane4 m spirit ashe sawand
runderstood and chafed against the fetters that bound htm.
See hère. Crystal,*' he said, " there's something I want
to say to yoii"— Crystal's heart gave a little fluttér beneath
he roses, .CrystaPslips parted in an injepressible smile—
but I can't say îfjust nowl" • ' ' ■ ■ .
He paused, fç^r Ae smile faded awrtyT afiUWlight bïue
eyes looked up m anger and alarm to his face. ~
" I can't say it just now/' purgued Mr. Dennison, with a
great gulp, " bec»u8e— because VH promised. I don't
know why, I m sure, but there's something to be told, and l'm
to go back and hear it before I returo and speak to v^».»'
Lucid this, certainly. With dilated eyes and parted lipfc
\< . '^^
."^l'
n.1
> »
^iss^^rystal Higgi,,»was ,t«iiignpathim,^^w^^
Boundered hopelessly througb this morass q{ explanation.
'^m
i^ tf. .
M' *
>f , j ^/. bj<A.Œ«*-r-T*)*v*4^;^3ài(<J|^^^
' 1
?
V
■r-
'h
t$6
"«WO /J SJfSf*
■^ hJi'i"" ^A^ totnojTow," went on the dragoon: "I lofd
r!?=e *K . r.]*®l' ^''*" havo^omething to say to vou
\ \«n?l'**?^***u.ï.®'' '«npJonngIf--a woman blind, and deaf
,land du,„b, mtgh hâve understood ail he meant Bu? S
prystal was a kittenish litUe coquette, and her eves *e?e
î ™Stni'" "T '° •'^^^^^ ^°^ scatteringW^th
"I don't understand a word y6u are saying, Mr. Dennt.
7^A.ul ^^'^"«goback. rradyingforagameofi^oqueL
and ail the people niust hâve corne." ^ "«coquet,
Won't you promise me, then, Crystal ? » /
Promise you what, Terry ? " / ^
« Xo wait until I return. To-to not fofget me," savs
poor Terry, with a sort of ^an. * ' ^
h«^n L"'^'"' ^ï'Shs. When a girl's lofe? stands, before
thif 2,S • ^^''"«^f masculine awkwardness and bashfulnes^
that gifl is mim^ately at her ease. «""«ness,
«nvT**' ""? y?" "^^J*""" ^ ^ '^^^e no intention of running
anywhere, ydu stupid Terry. Forget you? Now hol-
^^^S7^' ^^," ? ^ ^^^' ^'^«« y°"^ nLe i.a household
back and play croqtiet." v/ ici us go
'»Vyait one moment, Crystal. I bought you this. Ihia
mornmg. Wear it for my Lke until I rltnm; and then I
wiU replace it with a diamond." •
ca«\^nv"SÎL^T ^" r«r<=ket a tiny case, from the
Mse a tmy ni^ of pearls and turquowe only made for
ÎSs."*"*- ^' '' '^^"^'^^ *>^^ oneofînSr Chris!
i,(^^%»St^si^'ù-
^'t^JY}'f¥=
•S''w.,VV
i;ô>1i;K*% -p-
•H'
,*'*"Ï*V^».^*^*'''^ **** ' ^ •'4*^/'^* - ■^«^ :j\^ t^^A*^** w-^^js»-^ «t«g|i^>nc
••l«5«> IS SffMf-
^it
r.i i:zsL'^^ '•""" "^ *• -»■ •«" ^^
JThey stand a moment stiU. Over the flat, distant marshe»
be August sun .s setting, turning the pools that lie bSween
" ïthTiï;'"*^.?S''°^x**!°^- The distant sea lies slee^ing
MiS S:? ^*- Y VV Pî««y--^i«« Tennysonian!/
Miss Hiajm» pensively thinks; but her soûl is with th^
^ croquet players. «Let us go back. Teriy " she is on he
point of ^ying for the thi^d time. when s^'stTps, surpri^d "
by the look Teny ^rears. He is staring hard strai^h? befoïe
. amaï^ ^n^^t»! '?oks too, and sees coniiug towards them
;;;iîi:'^s;:fô?>î"'^^^'" -pyjoveHtisiy
K^r^"*^ / wondered he hadn't looked me up before; He
has been stoppmg at Sir Philip Carruthere' plie forYhe l«t .
five days. Yes, it is Eric" F *^«= lor ine last
"Eric?" . y
" Y*^^ Eric— Lord Dynely, yoû know. No. bv the bvp
you^don-t know, but you have'heard of hin, Ôft7n e2?b
^««2'il*?! Si^"u '^f'^»"*^ ^^ and looked with ^ llttle
lutter again,beneath the roses, at the young noblemân a^
proaching whor had been described to\er by entbïsias*^
S H—""?" l "f *' b««'-»ooWng fdlow in EnS «
with fair ff hi°?'^ '^K? ^'^ * y°""« «"^^ o^ twen?y.one,
Tnd the w^rnlïf Î-T^ **'"*' ^y*^.'' * ""'* golden mùs[ache
S"e Ju^r^r. wuL* cen enarian. who has used up ail the
^easures of this wicke^world some sixt3r or seven^ yeara
T, " Eric, old boyj glad you've looked me dp at last." was ail
Teny said, but his wKole face lit as if the meîe riïht oftS
Costal Higgins. Crystal, the friend of my youth, the plaT
g ^.-^^. . PPMa;^
m
'W
Jifx
4 •.
*>
V
'■<'■ -
. 5;
*■ j-^ %
<^I5«
•'««MW /s SHBt^
"•She'saharduntofoUow, ,
A ^8d un to beat,' :."
^-«y ««-^;;;;:;^'"^ï^'^g|?^^^5„^'
*■•
\ '
\
'"Il -
>/
If. c
i*
"»W0 /s SHEt"*
*59
Yes, he can play croquet, «nd play it weU. He and the
héroïne of the fôte corne oflF triumphant in cvery gaïue. They
play croquet, and that other classical ganje yclept "Aunl
Sally," an<i ho lingers by Grystal's side, and for the oue thou-
sandth time his inflammable fancy fires, and a nevr fair face
enchants him. ^
They.go to tea under the gna^d old apple-trees. There
is a snowy cioth, old-fashioned china cups of peart^nd blue,
fragrant tea, home-made pound cake and, jelly ; and Eric,
whose luncheon has been a glass of sherry and a biscuit,
and who has not dined) makes a martyr of himself, and drinks
the tea, and partages of the pound cake ànd jelly and helps
theyoung ladies, and pays compliments, anà tells pretty Utile
stories. -
The moon ha? arisen before they hâve done^ and they
^ance by its light to the music of^the jingly vicarage piano,
uï?on which the nine Miss Higginses hâve practised for the
laât twenty years. Then they adjourn \o the drawing-room,
and there is more dancing, and presentlyit iseleven o'clock,
and the party breaks up.
"You go back to-morrow then, Dennison?" Lord Dynely
asks, carelessly, as they shake hands at parting.
" Yes ; and you ? "
" I remain two or three days longer. Carruthers wishes it,
ifs rather a pleasant house, and he's a good fellow. Capi-
•tal quarters you hâve hère, old man— 4 vcry seraglio ol
beauty." . -^
«Howdoyoulike Afr?"Terryinquire8. *" '
« Which her ? thei-e are so raany. Oh,^he little queen of
the revels, of course. As charming a little woodland nymph
as ever I saw. My taste doesn't generally run to rustic
beauties, but she's as sweet as one of her own roses. , Wheil
am I to çongratulate you, Terry, my boy ? "
"Soon, I hope," Terry answers, with a lauj^ and ahappy
iight m his eyes ; and Lord Dynely looks at him with a cun-
ous smile as heroUs up a» cigarette to light him on his
homeward way.
^^^^.Sig a c es hiaKo t l w^te — hoyhe^MPi^^itntrene âOT'
telli buthe is exceptionaliy clever at thèse thidga. Sbe goes
/*"•
*S2r
iiL
\.,
■h
'fi-^^-'**?
roo
'ïi-'W;-
\**mto /s sHBr
■Jl
s>
"C"
}
.-^
lumbenng Teny. It would hT^ -^ ^ ' '^'8' "ocouth,
blUshes, and shn^ks, an JîreLl^ * "'^'''^g^- «°^ shé
. «ort of thing that^ts novelu. i^t;r^ «^ ^^at
those tender little soûl iwhosi S^ ^ '"P*'^^- ^"e o'
and«noking no end^^iiaarettef *S"°! ï»/^«:t^dly out,
^ -<^wn^hisw^S^^S:iÏ3^->;^^ cigareu^
thatyou were 4ht,T^ iJl^unLtfnd" '^ ''^^ conclusion,
you to a compact madewS» *^ "«generous to hold
you to marry me if you do „o/i ^ ^ «^all never conïpel
France, àt any co J ï« "o* jove me in rcturn. No
your hand. Unle« youfeef^tbaTth! V^"«^ *" ^'^ *<>
pffer,you canreturn, thenferîî .V r ^^''°*^^ »«"«^t»on T
into a loveless unio^ / mS, iSf /ï"!."'' '<> fo'-ce you
fie^. ™°"- '^'"^J'^'^etched, butyoushaUbe
cla^isTpo^to&e p^^^^^ ' ^^""^ "^'^ « "rging my
Wiev^i; ^'^*^^ U^^ourownheartrS^^^^
a» a
\
^ i^i_ ..
i«:S
à'iïjaTt,^''*^!!**
W
K
,**WHO IS SHBt»
Write to me here-it will beless painful for both of us than
,. "Eric"
«rS*" *f*".««"erous pièce of composition I L<ïfd Dynelv
By Dext morning's post this lellerœnt off to Devonshire
Afewhours later, irreproachaWe in Se nXêM"e.ânM
They were ail very jollygirls, excepl thî three eldest whn
S;.Sl,r ° ""Provd upon acquaintance hefoundriH?
That evening's post brought him a letter He tumeH
cold as^he Içoked at it-FraSce's bold. firm hând and^îf
seal and crest of the Forresters. It looked big and square
?^^4^crosL*^ altogether formidable. sSllît Zt £,
C^rT f °f '^ P*«^^ *' ^^ '^^t' ^ thought with a KToan
t^ng oTthe^^i^S^lPP^r"^ °'i"^'^^'"« ^'^^^ -"^'
SworaZÏhr ?^ ?® °P^"^^ "• îtconsisted of '
tnree words—three of the shortest in the language :
TafjulMi Affectionately. ^
'■*r»
"Frahcb.»'
"'''^^-
.' 3.
; ■#■■ --
,. w ■
f '■'
'
•
-•h
iL ■ :^--
'■•'". "'ïW<'''''^^ÏT'^^^fP"^
^K
''5
^^
ÏCHAPTÈR IX.
/ TELLINO TERRY.
I rence Dennison to the Abbey. Lady Dvi^vZ
of Terry. It was not Terryfshe feal^^JEÏ approach
had t4 tell Terry, that wS haH il^^^^î.** '^'''*=^ ^''«
destroyed her \^kce of n n5 ^'^Kl^'"^'*%fe"science,
lifr fnr iL /^^ °* ""°P» embittered e^ki^v of h*.r
We for thfe past suteen yeaite A secret th^t^S.-
wronged but one fciw c • t " 1^ , Jf *\''*<' "'"'*'">'
• /■,» ■ ■■
V
-^ ^ -^ ^^
#■ ^
TELLING TEARY.
^
i6
1
morse that never left her, thatt)reycd on health of bodvand
to be borne no longer— this even-
^told; then, conie what might, her
her guîk was a
ing tbe truth
conscience wi
prS 'S 1i^^*?^y'>™«»Î!?«Iy hard, only her,
k K A y tI^^^® ^^'^^^ not th nk of her dead
she dared not th^îf^ier son, and of the passionate^!;;
and reproach with which he would overwhelni her .Œ
the loyal, true-hearted lad. who trusted her so utterly.^ho
beheved m her so implicitly, whose affection and Stude
were so profound. On ail sides the path was bSt whh
thorns, but the path niust be trodden. ^^^"x^^et with
*..'-ii
n^^f^hé «ep for which she waited and watched. There
c^me a tap at the^loor. A moment she paused o Ather
^oTeïtered^'"' "^""^ "'" '""^ ^'^ ^aiStly, and'éfnt
'^obkurit' of thf ï 'r? t^« «hadow^e curtains. In the
ODScurity of the twiht room he cÉHKnot see the fixerf
pallor of her face ; yet something inWmann^r? as she II
there startled him He advancfd and toTher h^d ' '
"You'are notnrJ'"^^'"^ "^"^^'" '^^ *"-°"^^X asked.
âZn T "^^ "y ''^^ ^nswered, in that faint voice. « Sit
îu ùl^"^' ,1 ^"^ «°"'« *o telf yo" a story to-night I
a wit^!f *?¥ ^.°" ^°"8 ^°' '^"t ^ *^*^« beeJ ^ côwJrdi
a weak and mçked coward-and I dared not~I dared not."
He seated himself on a hassock at her feet, andlooked un
at her m silent w<^der and alarm. - ^
"Jou baye trusted me, Teny, beeri grateful to me
loved me. Ah ! i^rpoof boy I that trust and love of yo"«
hâve been bitter tobito. I h^iv e deservyl n«»ir- ' ' ^
•"Lady Dynelyl" ^^
M'
■-*v>
«1. «w^ \
ï^
:i.
a-
4 .
164
TELLWG TERRr.
$ -■:'
* ,. " I ï»a*^e prayed for strength," she went on «hnt s».,.*.^!.
ceaied the truth, attd ffone on in K^rr/./»!, ««^ ^
you from first to last." ^'^'^ ^"*^ wronged
consteSon^'-DTj''^^^^ P^'"^^^'" ^^ exclaims, in
f_„^ *, ""^'•^'^ sanre it sounds from your lins. A Hic
ta„.^ connecnon of n,y U.e husband 1 TeVyS a^e hi,"
" Lady Dynely I "
«Hwson,Terry-.hiseldersonI" ^
/■
:.r
r-
%
TELLING TERRY.
ê
165
He dropped his face in his hands like a man stunned by a
blow. There are few men, even the worst, who do not ver»'
erate more or less, the nieinory of their mothers. To Terry's
simple soûl she had been a tender, idealizei^ memory — to
keep in his heart of hearts, to speak of never. And now his
iather had been Lord Dynely 1
" Lady Dynely," he said, huskily, " why bave you tol^ me
this?"
She laid her hand upon his bowed head.
" It is not as you think, Terry," she sàid, sadly. "I
know what you raean — it is not that. Your mother was
Lord Dynely* s wife, as truly as ever I was. You are I.,ord
Dynely's son, as truly as Eric is. More — you are Lord
Dynely's heir."
He scarcely heard the last words, so swift and great a
rush of joy and thankfulness flooded his heart at the first
" Thank Heaven ! " she heard him whisper ; "Mo/ would
bave been hard to Isear. But — Lord Dynely's son! Oh,
Lady Dynely, pardon me, but I find this very hard to be-
lieve."
" It is a surprise, no doubt. But do you fully understand,
Terry? — You are not only Lord Dynely's son, but Lord
Dynely's heir."
" His heir ? " he repeated, bewildered.
" You are three years older than Eric. Do you not see ?
Your mother was Lord Dynely's wife ; you are not Terrence
Dennison, but Viscount Dynely."
He lifted his head and looked at her, a sort of horror in
his eyes. " And Eric is — what ? "
" Yes — what ? " Eric's ti^other cried, wildly. " He is Eric
Hamilton — the youngcr son, with a portion about half of
what he spends yearly for cigarettes and bouquets. You are
the heir and the lord of the land ; he is the younger son and
brother. That is the secret I learned to my cost sixteen
years ago, by y9ur father's death-bed — the secret of my so-
called generosity to you, the secret that has poisoned and
blighted my whole life. If I had been as strong in my^
wickedness as ï am weak, I would bave kept it to the end ;
but that I could not do. It is told ; a load is off my soûl at
J. .
'^ Â
,.)»,
)
"i -rï*/^
^Jlh
r
':^^4
i66
TBLLING TERRY.
k-W-ul
^
., JSf^^P" ^"°^ *»»« t™*' ^"d ray son and I are at you,
Then there was long and deep silence in the room She
was suting upright in her chait. her face gleam nglt lie
marble m the gray gloon, her slender hands cleKd tc^
.Çto "a^nS ^^'6r"n'^ ^^ ^"k' ""'^^'^^ '°°^^"S A^"
into vacanc>. ïor Dennison, hëvsat stunned, absolutelv
stunned, trymg with his whole might to realizê thi S J
-notTe^ n'"' • ^' Y'^. ^^"^'y'« ^^^-^ -"' "^ heir-
—not Tepry Dennison, the dépendant, the poor relation
but a pe<H: of the realm.! Erjc, lordly EricVhis tSunge;
brother, with no claim to the title he bo?e, to the thSds
he squandered I Not a po«rerful mind at any tirae, ne^er a
ll^rh'd'^ol'"" '' '"^ ""^"^ ^"^ ^^^'-^ -- - "^"^
daill bLTdenLît?"^ ''" "" ^'^ ^^' '""^^ '^ -^> ^ ^»
She drew a long, heavy brealh, and set herself to thetask
Ihe worst had been told-it was bitter alniost as the bitter:
ness of death and yet it was easier ^elling Ter^r than telHn;
most men. Her secret had weighed upJn her so lonf or?
rS^rjadr '"' tf'-t^heabXtelyfeltaSeof
Ji'^u^^ T- ^"fr ^^^ '•epeated; «it seems very little to
tell when ail ,s told. I suppose most of life's tragédies can
be to d m fcw words-this certainly. On the nightof lS3
Dynel/s death-sixteen years ago this very night • was k
not fit to choose that anniversary ?_1 leame^d itlrst'nmelf
I recall that n.ght so well-like io other in ail my life ^Mv
cousm had corne to me-you hâve heard of hiîi Sordon
Caryl poor fellow !-to tell me his story: It was â bSw
moon.ghtn.ght Ann-in-arm we walked rou^ the fish
pond,'S^hae he told me his life's tragedy, in brief bit er
words I see it ail." Ihe said, lookîng before her^dth dewv
eyes her vo.ce softening. " like a picture. The XeS
of the moon the long, black shadows. the fish-pond likfa
tJieet of circular glass, the scent of the flowers, and the ct^l!
.^s^M even ini ^ ^nd. Th e re h c ^ d g o ^ !g > Jl^ tuS to
Tëïï me. my poor d;,rdôn | and I hîîve nevS^^enS^n^!
V
1%
~ .'^<y4 KaI^^'^T"'
^1^ » *V '^ ' fit^ ^y ^
■^y "^i^?' * ''V s ,; "'"'^f^f^/y^
•i^i^M
\
'^TÊLLING TERRY.
167
^J-„.,«
>-• , .
I
.. 1
^^k\^^^^.L
That mai), LocksIey,'*reniinds me of him somehow ; my heart
warms ta him whenever we r^çeet for tbat chance resem-
blance." ' .
She paused. She had drilted from fhe thread of her story,
îhinking of the soldier cousin from whom she had parted
this night sixteen years ago.
"He left me)^' *e continued, after that pause, "and I
still lingered out there, thinking what a mistake life was for
most of us, how we seem to miss the right path, where happi-
ness lies, and jlove j|nd ambition alike lead us aslray. He
had married fOr love — I/jpr ambition ; the end was the sariie
to both — darkest, bittefest disappointment. I had never
cared for Lord Dynely ; he was many years my senior, and,
though I never was a sentimental girl, ail the liking 1 ever
had to give had been given to Gordon Caisyll. I had to do
my duty as a wife in ail things, but I was not a happy wife,
had never been ; and, when they brought me word my hus-
band had met with an accident and lay dying, it was the hor-
ror we feel for the raerest stranger who meets a tragic end
that filled me, not the despairihg sorrow of a loving wife.
" I hastened to him. He lay dyii^g indeed — life was but
just there when I reacked him. * Baifhe was a man of most
resolute will ; he would not die until he had seen me. He
had been very fond of mc^^ah, yes I I never doubted that,
in his own selfish» passionate way, he ifàs very fond of his
wife. He had ppared himself ail his life, but now that he
lay dying he would not spare me. Thorough and utter
selfishness has ever been the chief chai|>cteristic of his race -
—I wonder sometimes, Terry, how you managed to
escape."
She paused again and sighed. She was thinking of her
son. Blindly, devotedly as she loved and admired him, she
could not be utterly blind to his faults. Thoroughly and ab^ -
solutely selfish ail the Dynelys had been, thoroughly and ut-
terly selfish was the last Lord Dynely.
"As I knelt by his bedside there, Teny, he told me in
Jc»^^ d bro k en jentencesihe snd nnd s harocfai gtory. la
his wanderings through Galway he had met Maureen Gan-
non, a dark, Spanish-looking bcauty, as many of thèse Gal-
■'S
-M
--1
i68
TELLING TERn Y.
■
»oo,her .rai. of his Jj, ^ ,„ hâve es^^e^ a„d L S
trie to hâve inhemeA You kno«- whAqrish S ïïe-^h,
pure3t «romen underhçavCT— love.malrir,.ïh?,^M "f'"=
marriace waa nrfr ™. j„T if "lalciDg that did not œtan
such an old story— hot fancy at ârst, cooling fancv after
She d.ed, and you were lefl, and Lord Dynely wa?fr~ m
woo and wm another. ■^ynciy was tree to
of h?. Ô1*K M •"■ Of thegirl whose heaft he had b.x>Icen
Hriftf?* ''V*°'u °° î°^' ''^ '^«'^ no steps about you he iust
<9«»«~«y.;High^^ne ibougfit îhat in someother world^
m
J4
,*>•
isF^'^i^
T'-^
,A i'
^^
* t
TELLING TERRY.
169
might hâve to atone for the crimes of this, he tixmed coward
—once more self became his first tliotiUt Whn^^^i v
ipatter what became 'of Eric or ml i,. î ÎV ""' t"^ '^
.a» might p,ck a flaw ia an Irish marri^fae ftat bat
nivhea«„;K^;'..''1" '','""'; l»' <^er did not share
laike
« w *^!?- > ^ *''^'" ^^ ariswered sadly.
H"
»
ton t do it ; you must l'won't r
see jugtice d<JHfe —f-
'-'?{■'
huii ri^htea b£fore 'thJmc
--Ilot, ta save his life qiwfeirfs rritebu.iv''«»ï'-
iîiiL 5'^ ^^^""^ ^'^^^h rattle sounded. H s
l^hastly threat on my fac^ when thè fil.u
rjnetù. 1 retvember no mpî^., Some onp
to me, and I feU back ildalI^^dS
|2jr% bufi^ hira, and Eric and I went
, » ■»
.. %vly fierçe VebeHion^S"aSi^,f ^^^^ f ™-'"-g.
f^ey put up- a marblé table recordSh,?;^ ^^'^
w qbmest c virtues. ahrl t,n/i«r fi! , ^9'^"'"g nis Social and
r follim kim^ xu ""^««^^the glowing record,\.'^/j œ,^^^
uo jouow ntm. Ahj yes, they foilowed hiin Jri Wtf
u and remorsé and'shame i J^r.^Au ^ """—'" oltterness
hollow satire of it alf I* hi.l ^''•^ Y'^^^^ ^'^'^ «i f^e
terror. I believe tK.L„i!: T i^^u °^^ ^^ ^' *""es with
The resfyou i^ol:"^::!:^^:^^^^-^^^^..
%
pakered w.th the truth. As my om, son vou s
tion ' rf'î!!: ''^^'■^ ^" '^« advTntTgeH
T^\a ^''^^ P^^»" Terry, much I ^
could not gi^The horror and hàtred
to fe.;l forgrWPather I was wicked enoV
woul'd Si! ''°"^'^'' ^''''^''' ^"^^^ I ^«^
isaence^
>e rvared
ny rffec-
«ved il^ I
:ed euough
1 for you.
myself I
?asyand ^
1
A
■ \
,Jîa^Mw:4.\^ V-v^îL ,\\yr*s^ ««''.v t\il«r^ w» \\ ! \ \ * ^\
V
) ».
>
^•■w-^
:' \ ■ \»
¥?
TELLTNG TERRY. .
an Irish pcasant gir"-his 1 fe ,^^^^^^^ ? 1°"' ^^e son of
I wo^ld nof tell the tmth ^ ''' and sensual father.
in a fbw dayài^FraS f "o Se hS wife fhe "?r"*/.^"'^'^
shire yours. I vowed I wouW n^l * n ' ""/t^''* '" Lincoln-
hâve prayed passlonâ?e r^h!? "^ *^"' ^ ^ ^«^ telling. I
That strength has been S 1 " !'^\^*^«''g''^ »« do it.
donc. You know thelr,f!h^ T ^' 'ast— my duty w
long you hâve Sien wfS^Jd^nT 1?^™^""^ ail your Ife
-fapersLordDyneryleû f^^^ Hère are thc
in any <;ourt in Eng and aTi ^thT'^"^ '° ""^P^^^ ^"^^ «t°'-y
EnV:7as":nt^a:i:? tVeîce 'il ^''- . ''^^ ^"^ ^ -"
would do battle to^he ilfth wS^S**^^ Pf°'"''' '^°'«' «^^
would, in his stormy^^lfich wir^ '' '"J^rloperi ho^ he
the mother. Ha"e' £ i I^'L'"rf *?" ^"^'^"^ ^"^ hâte
and selfish men are «i^d h^'tii Y^ ^''"«J your weak
not held her ton%.f?!?ho^ darS^'T ^''>; ^ad she
were the cowardly dyine fea« T. ^H- «P^^k ?_what
to his birthright? Wa^^tWaT^r Z^''. tjousand fathers
Let it end hlw kZht h^vroS/T''^f ^^'' ^^' «'»'
see her foce àffaM^oTl u ^ "^^^'' ^«'"g've her, never
«*e kné^haîff sa^tere '^^
îbughtiahèrbit^r^3e^i"i±^JÏ^ Even fee, she.
Andthisis.whatitwastrdoreÏÏâ^
«w ottUiie of her WeLd 'SJ'^^ ^^« but —
M
■kfr.
*-*^
<*'^
\,4 '-*-.'■ :
..*v ^ \-J^.' ..»,.■» -vif '''■ '. • l''^
«1 s ..
^■**t£
-^4
.1?.
fi'
J->
/T.'
-r7)2
IH*f<j;
< -^ ^'Ji
TELLim TERRY,
-AJ
*ll don't know what td sav vet " h*. »*;.»«« : ?
Btrained voice, that did Lt Und like xfrv's ^lT\
SÎiHed hL' ^n^ î^ 5^"^-<^°"<:f aled dislike had repelled a^"
"Angry with you I» she said, with a sob "Oh mv
«0 you in trouble. AU wiU ko wej «, fL irJ^Ï '"
notknow.of course?» ■""»"""" ^et- Ehc— Enc<Jee«
^|^Nptyetl„h,„oeyetl îîtowffl be the harfest lo bear^
A Co tfae r'' he
saîd, and love madéTenys voice like an
\
TELLim T^RRY. '
'73
1 ûen he arose soïûy and left her. '««^«ver-
■;;,
<i
%i
i^'
.1
41^ ■
}, "*'<è.
t
' nr-j
F--
-m
^0^^^
5% *>ï
CHAPTER IX.
%
rf
THINKING IT OUT.
ÏHAT night, for the first tiine in the four-ànd- '
twer.ty years ofhis Kfe, Terry DennisonJÉLup until
the " wee sma' hours ayont the twal," â^thought.-
,,, Thought !— of ail novel expériences, this surely was
rZ "'^^ "°^^* '" ^^^^ supremely thoughtless young man's
V J'«'-%?^he good or the evil of ïerry's life, and there had
been much of both, had alike beeiV unpremeditated ; in ail
things he had atted naturally and involuntarily, and'with-
, outthmkingof it tisçforeharid. Now in à moment le was
^Iled upon to 'lèttlè^the destinifs of four lives— his own,
*^"cs,^dy Dynely-s and littje Crystal's. A sort of smile
^'l'r m !".** #^ ^5 ^^ *ought of it-he the arbitrator of
bnlhanf^ic's ^hole future life— he, Terry.
.But the smile quickly faded as/he eikered the room and
S *feii^.^^''^^ '^^'" ^^yshiR hadgfiven him down upon
«le tabl|^2riooked at tpyellow p^r, théTaded writini?.
lhefaiher#ho had wrongèd hîni so greajsl^ whd^had' so >
irreparâbly wronged his^«teç, arfd writtei^^liis— ha^
jceiiffièn tliat justice couidnb longer
servéd Sàtân ail his life, and would
ave| at the last, at any sacrifice to
, ^ had lived a life of sin and sensual-
ism, and would offer the dregsof that bad life to his Crea-
tor, rhere was more a feeling of disgust in Terrys breast
than any othçf . as he looked at the faded writïng and
thought of hun who had written it, dust and ashes years
ago. \ /
. r " Ane flis Works do follow him!"
"He sat down and looked blankl v before him. ' HÀ
striven to dp him juj
ajjnoy himself. Hé
make his peace witï
those lefb^ehind.
î»îï^^nëÇT=ëH^"sdn7"lon^^rpS^i^^^^S
jgM>-
-m
;;^Vi^p5*^p^,-i
THINKINÔ IT OVT.
175
Xerry Dennison, a dépendant on a great lady's bounty. but
Visrount Dynely, with estâtes and mansions in haf a
dozencounties,a,^la at Ryde, à rent-roll as long as hi'
)^Tf\ ^"r^ ^^ ^^^ "^^^^ ^•■3^'^*^'' Lady Dynely. His
face flushed for a moment at that. AH that might be snrea.|
beforehim, aglittenng vista. He was one of the teas
mercenary of men. but he had lived too long in the world
nôt to know the great and utter change it would make in
^' nL ^?' .K ^^ ?\ ^^^- °'''^'* *"^^^ •" ^he United Kingdom,
one of the noblest mcOmes-that is what he was Salled
K§ 1,? clam, or resign to-night. For a moment, as he
^loligh of it, h.s heart beat quick. He was very human
^ after ail, and th.â was no child's toy he must lay- clown or
^ t:ike u,,. Men called Terry Dennison a good fellow^
" ï.«r *J"T'^ f"'' P^'^î^P^' '^"^ ^ &°°^> f--Ho^v ail the
, A f.^!P«.- . -"e, haa few enemies and many friends, but in their
^yMik»ng for hnn there was more or less blended a slight
i»hade orcontempt He was one of them, but not of thein.
, HiShwnners and habits were primitive to a de^rree He
wasn t a " plunger," as they were to a man ; didn't drink to
speak of; duln't ga.nble at ail; hunted down no u^.^n!
^1 panied or single, toher own destruction. He,*ras behind
Sn,^' »",^», th«s^ things. in a most remark^^e^^^^^^
StiU men hked hinj, and laughed with Terry, anïïBrerrv'
and neyer carried their laughter too far. HeSBie soui
of good-nature, but there was that in his six f^TstatL
his tramed muscles, and scientific British way of "hittlic
--^n!! Ta^^"- ^'°'" V*^^ shoulder," on occasions, that coK
'--^manded respect. In the annual battles betwêen " ToTn
'^£«^'^'V ^n^'S''^' ^^""'«O" had ever been a hostlf
^2L Jr. ^" ,^^hletic and field sports he stood his own
vith the best of hem. He was a "mighty hunter before the
Jord, down m the shires ; but in the ball-room and the bou-
doir, ^ court and at courting, Terry was decidedly a failure.
He never lost his heart for barronne or ballerîna, duchess or
âctress; he ran away with no raan's wife, wasn't a fascina-
.tdSSt?ï T ^^^yjT^'-^ «"a^y too. and generosîtT
•tood chief among them. To give pain to a womaii, to any
4
„ f
- m.
4».
^»7 - ^
i Jf
^sr-im
y.
»,
n,
f0-
'%i -;iv
P ■■ ■ ■ ■
/ ■ .^
Pi
""■■'v' 1
■7ÎK •;■■'■'
176
THINKING IT OVT.
T^ady Dynely's heart "^^ "'''"''' '""?>/ break
serve to be loved Sd FH^ h *"."' ^' ^''^^ '°"« ^^^^ de-
commandof aselfish?nH?J 5f ^^'^^t^'y. and at the
birthright to rsttge^and bli^^^^^ °^«^ »''''
Dynely had asked foo mnl ? '''' "'''°''' ^'^^ ? Lord
Wby, she migh haveîeft Wn^aîrh'^'TP^' ^,"' "°^ ^^ ^er.
tered life of a ^anT Wh„ .¥ °"' '^e wretched. unlet-
wiser? But she^adTcome for h^" ^f^ ^^^^ ^«*^" ^^e
by hin, as her own son Ind no ' f ^"^ ' " .^" '^'"g« ^«"e
ail, and. at ail cost to herlëlf w.^' i'''' ''^^ ^^^ ^°'^ ^"n
ofherwords. Thenl'Z^4b"trdriftert: ï^^^^ 'V""'''
tnc's rage and furv as i>la,ni °""^" ^o Itric. He saw
table, th? blue ey7s Lrid w^rh ^' ''^f ^ *'^^ P^l>«'- o" the
the death, woul§ contes" evt^'neh^TfC'' '° Y''^ *°
syrapathy would be with Frir. "'11 ^ "'^ ground. 'l'he
were Edc's ;-,.hat chance would he tZr%t '"^^1
be an endless chancerv sm> th« f ^ ^"^''^ '^'^"•fJ
the scandai, the informZ TrT.h '^'"gdom >vould ring with
of a sacrifice to him HrhoH ^' u- ' '^^"^^ ^^«-y ^'ttlfi
was. I bave sa d a m^.f vîf "^ "P ^'"bHion whatever_he
he held irSnteTh r^'S V^ young man. Life a^
hundied a year and Ci^;»»!^ K- *' ^f™""ssioa, his five
^-•^^-
e:
P^:
■ ■. r
■■s
THINKING IT OUT.
'77
With a long-drawn breath he broke froS bis rêverie • whi,
Terry-s wholî ^oni il ^^ V^ *®"^^'' confession, and
#'
tr'" \
„" .'^A^;*:.
if %
V¥.
-*,
■>? ' '
■*<|awa
^'^^
•f^i-*
:<.^^i
fÊ"
iiSi*
178
THINKING IT OVT,
hef 'chS^r^T ^^^r-S^f S -,„*and holding U,
sOMnd SLè "I^''-''" ■''J' '■!»» '«-bled, ^^Xy a husk^
in "rjfÏÏl'^f'Sv td'rer""'"'' E,°'*"« "<"'■ "a»* fa='
we , Eric too well »v,., " ' j™"»™ 1"=; I loved you too *»
.ou"l?edr,o"acterof1hr' ^- T^- ^'^^k .-..'and '
Word, and there w;retL,hi.,!/^ J ^^S^^ '
blue eves . ThL . , ^ and.bnght m Terry's ibAnd
fi
a
■ X'i^M^i 4I *fiA d
7*
)lk _"s " <*»'>» >w rv^ ' ^y*^ ' '■'^^
ï
I*-, *
' r
' ' ^ THINKINà IT OUT.' ... ,-
Terry laughed.; It was ail very solemn, but f.he idea of
1 ef y Dennison m the rôle of angel, tickled the dragoon^
'^it:;^::^^:,:^'"'''''''^ ^-^ ^'^^^ .-.y schoolboy^.au,^
" \ n^^ ^ ."'. P^'*^''» ^^^y Dynely," Terry sdid, strugclintr
nianfully w.th that explosion ; " tha/s a little too gôod^^You
are the first I g.ve you n,y word, who ever accused me o
angel.c qual.t.es. And I don't deserve it-oh, I assure you
I don t— it isn't any sacrifice to me. I am not an am
. bmous sort of fellosv, nor a clever fellow, nor a briufant fe -
mv hke Enc. As a dragoon, with five hundrcd a year and
the dearest httle g,rl n. England for my wife, I ,nA round
peg fit nig neat and trim m a round hole. As a noLn â
rttlld be"irT"' "V' '">' "''''''' "'^^^^ burines! to de;
i would be an object ofjjity to gods and men. Eric was
f ^.],a d^h^g of fbrtunef 1 was born-phu.» Terry ï^m^î!
^^She looked a|, hiei with sad, yfearning, wondering tves
Her armsst.ll Ipos.ly clasped .tàs neck .s Ke knelt^before
, .K ""î''^Ll\T'^'-'-y, Dennison ! " she repeated ; "Terry. you a.«.
' the s tuff heroe^ are ,,,ade of Eric ifnot IIK. >.n h \t
he only were ! VVhere did you get thi. gei^tMOunVut th,s
• frJ' ^^'^^^'^^i! «7' ^^y^-^- ? V^have you, fatheTs foc
ay you are Iike h.ni to tl^e very ifoi of h>s hair. You hLc
his face— Ew, I fear— Ifear hiS^heart "
nnl'.?il' ^'iî '"'"'' ^^^. ^ bad ft$lUnv." responded Trrrt %^
uneasiiy He jvas i),»cônimonly fond of Lady DynHy buk^
.he was onry a man, and the heroics were ieconuL a litt^ ^
^ ail be as though you had never told, as though I we,^ in %
. r«il.ty.wh4 I hâve ail aloiig considered mys<^_a disTanî
, connection of a very grand /aafilj: If-!''TerrV2s he^
drooM a little ^nd his color 'rotti!" if jf n,akes vou S.'*"^ ^ ,P
^ httle fonder of ir^. Lady DySSy. t^Jn as the 20^70^ '''' "'
c^ novels safy, « I sl^U not hâve lalLred i^ vain.' "^ -^ " • '^
^_Vfondly«5heTi^nffl^eki^dE^ 1 \ ^'S
Who could hdp being.fpndof >'ou,^eîr/? Thatgiri^
■>'
«a /•
■>'t,
««dlLl. ..
■ .-é^"'
.,»-
^'
m
?4^r75f ■»ii'^«*S*^ï!r- jf^^y^^
i8o
THINICING IT OUT.
waited so
«^th me yet a fe^f days £.71? .^'^ • " ^"'''"""S- Stay
I am." ^ "^'* ^ ^^^^ ^^a'-ned to realize ho«r blessed
long a fevv ,«ore days will not sSnJfy " '"'"'
-meantime he was •' Hers'al^d ^S;""'^ '"""^"' ^"^
shiningfthe grass ^j;; as green as thouth >f "l' J'^ """ ^^
and varnished, the skv ÏT ^,V''«"gb it had beeu painted
?ky. Terry thonglu ; andl^^ fa^i t?' ^ ^'°"^- ^o was his
acrossônthe opposite oKhi-nn^' ? l """? ^'"'"^^ stretched
waswhirledawaVto'surlitv'arfge'" -'-y carriage, he
" wu°I he would a wooing go
Whether his mother woufdS him or no "
1 wonder what niy precious litt\^ „; i • if^ ^'^^graph.
And, by the bye. I sloSTke tô f '' u*"""* J"stnoV!
corne home. Egad 1 TVh^ 1 1 *,°.H"o«^ why Erir -
i-
CHAPTERXL
AT THE PICNia /
'^r^^^^^t:!^:: ^8«^ afternoon
. ^ ^ made his way into the vi-^^ " r"" ^""^^ ^"<^
wuh double roses, and ZVysuckh^ll^{ ^l ^^' ^" ^^'^^«
muni, and fuchsia, and the sumni ' ' ^^ ''^'■''^"^' ^^^ ge-'a-
of perfuniê:' AU the « f^ ^"«""er air was sweet wik Srifts
stoodopen,buTi^'ll5: 'sTeî.:^^^^^^^^ ^^^ «Ï
feet darkened the parlor doomaf fh?^' ^^' ^'' '«^^^ '^^
that apartment looked t,p C hl; ï- °"'^. /><^<^»l>ant o/
pnsed scream. u was he ^ H I f 11'"^ "^'"^ ^ ""le sur-
three elder Misses Hi^dns "' ^ ^"^^'^«^ of the
.i-or! cried Miss Hiffeins '«wh^f - * '
Is .t yoû. Terry ? Who'd S'holmlf? ?^°" ^^^^ '^<^'
see 1 w^sn't exDectinff -invK^Ji ^ -'^'^ Cojne in. You
-oflf but BehndaS afe, â^^5^ ^^'^^J^^^^d ^U the rest a^
'^oTi ^f^' ^^ -' ofrwhere, Arabe.Ia?".
Philip Carfuthei Lo;d Sel T^ ^" ^°"'^ '^"<^' Sir
stopping at the tourna^ c^T' ^„?JP"'^°^ ^^^ gentremen
rest hâve gone I anH £^i^ o^SaniMd a mcnic, and ail the
Its ai^«y, t^^ way/^^r^ S^m'" «J'"g.for Crystal. .
' " ' this little pig i^T^^ufr^'t' ""SS'hs, bitterly ;
^or a «lonient—a fl^»m^ , . ^*^' "^"skly.
^i^ p ^^^^ „_ "■ '"3 t . o nt r c t o utp a; n ow i t w as ail n gbl
'' • . ' ' " ' ' '
■ r
î*'
^
/ 1-jflr 1^ ~ •r>*»-<||'
-s^fv^i^m^'^.
182
AT rm pjcmc.
" AtCaritithers Court, of cours*» "P«iin o j " '
suppose. . »VhXw;?^e* '""° '"'^'^'^ """"'. '
as a"r:,:!tVfhrb"XSf''f '''^-^'A-' "<" ™icus.
m her vestal bosD.n «îh^ tne mi le of luiman kindness
Tprry wenMo the ^{cnic "'"' ^'""^ ^° '^^'^ «^-'"S. ^^'
reachèdthefçstal^m.mrT P°I'P'^' ^^ t^^ ^ime he
dottêd thè swa d Mhëlin^r/' ""^J"^^q"«es everywhere
'"usic beheath the u,Um^^^^^ band discou^sed sweet
dancing and oth^snortV^fT/^u^^^' ^'"^^ery, croquet,
, «ind deligh'trwereSion J^^-^.y°"^^^^^
girls in,p4, giris •> W /and greef dôn^d'^' ^'t '" ''"^J
likegorgeous posiez, but the gTof SrtVr'^^ i
could nowhere belmjd. «» '* "^ ^'^ neart Mr. Dennison
''Ah, Xerry, niy lad," said the Rev Sami.^I w •
tending one clérical hand in a hLt fl'« T , ^'^^ms, ex-
y?" ? When did you comêV" ''^ ^'°^^' " ^°^ ^«
''STand^^;^
gaged in archery • Co nèha .nH v-";''""-^ ""'^ >^°"^«''' ^n- ,
was with me a moment âgo i^XJ\l ^ti-?^J^^ ^^"^
'Tr;;:^^^'>;ï'^^^s^uer^^^ ,
1 saw ijçiia. Whére's Crystàl ? " ask^H lUr tS . •
desperation. " . . ^SKea Mr. Dennison, tn
-- s
7 -
>,<;-■'■
"^^^tîf'^'lii'.'.
'"'Ul-m*
.♦'
3 ' . ' , „ ' < 'I '
^r TffE PICNIC.
183
.ee_^CrystaI. Elizabeth Jane, my child. wherë is Christa
" Criss/s gone off for a «ail with Lord Dyiiely, i)â " an-
swered ma pert tone the seventh Miss Higgin^S a sl)ar^
Elizabeth Jane took Mr. Dennison's ai# and led hini
, bnskly across meadows, down woody sl^^to where be
Anithere, ha f-way eut, went'floating a little white boa like
;cf4"la7;iî'^' ^"' •" ^'^^^ "^'^^ ^' -"g gent, Jnanllt
'.'ThafsCriss,"said ElizaTîeth Jane, sharply. " and that's
LordDynely I don't know what LorS DyneW's fntentions
may be, but if I were pa I would ask " " ^ '"tentions
Terry's face flushed. He turned suddenly and looked at
her with a sharp contraction of the heart. ^•
'*What doyou mean, Lizy Jane?" •
eins^S Ti^J n '^7'"*^ ^""^ sharpest oC the Misses Hig-
S'ro ^ "^ ^^"^'^^ *'°'"^'' '^ g'"eat de*too often to the
STr'an tr^'' '/'"'' ^'^^ too marked attention tïouf '
- T^ryr* ^^^^^ '"""• "" '^ ^" ^"S^g'^d man, isn't he.
«Yes— nor-I don't know—Elusabeth Tane vn.i H«„v
njean to say that Crystal has^^al^Liirr'udT Z^
plexion turned whûe-" fdlen in love with Ix>rd Dyn%?"
«fin ch°" '^".o«;anythingabout it," retorted Elizabeth Jane
still sharply; "f don't go mooni«g about myseîf reaS
novels and poetry books, week in and week ou^T Uave 2
f;L^ ?K1 ^""'^ «ociety,and D.rcas n,eedngs"J
th.^' ■ V .V «Jon't know anythmg about falling în love and
tha(. sentimental rubbish," says Elizabeth Jane, her black
eyes snappingf ; ««buf I do know, îf I were pa. l'd not haîe
agayyming nobleman loafing about m^house from morn^
mg untiL night flittiûg with my, pf^ttie't daughîer S.
.^oonhgk ramb es, and sunlight rambles/Jd efr y mom nf
-•v
' >,.\
tor ier, aod«^inè>ets, with her, and-bahl» wy,
^Mi^pi^ * . r :|i> A V - '
'i
I&4
^r THM Picmc:
-%.
Ehzabethjane, withsnappishness ",Y,^, i j .. "
" And they carry on Ifki ^.î' m? ^°'^*^'" ^'« "«se."
as mentfon his n Jmë S Cm°arh,!?l'* k7°^¥^"'' «° '""^h
of her hair. l've told oa rS .. S^ blush*^ to the roots
He's only a good lookini bov sLS^ .°"^ ^"^^^ herself.
what pa says. Queer snrf ^f\T^ ^^""^^ ^ «=Wld.' That's
a «ny ady,' for her daughter rVe nn''^'' • '^"^ ^''^'" ^ave
folly!" crie^-the practical anci mJf . r^^'^"^^ ^'^^ such
Jane Higgins. ^""^ matter-of-fact Miss Elizabeth
-^'^^^'^^t^it^:l\- ^""^ '"d^y heat has faded out
has turned a wooded bend ^n?A- ''^ ^'"'^ ^'^"^ boat
sjnging now. ''^"'^ ^"^ disappeared. Crystal is
-cleS^^^^^^^^ The ■
They stand silent both.VntH ^he Is^n^rT'l^ "'^'^ ^-«•
away. ' "" '"^ ^^st note of the music dies
and' ^oT:;;;h:S a ï^uc^ o/r '°°''"^ "^ '" ^erry's fac..
'kes Terry ; she l t^gage/ to 7e rTtJ". '^^^ °'^"- «he
father's curate, whose naf,e but fa.ntt I* .^^'"u ^"^^^' ^er '
and can afford to be sister v .^V ^ ^^/^ ^°'''b his nature,
the b,g dragoon is beS ^"^P'^^f^^a'' and her Uking fo
riend of mL France Trfes eS '' n ^"^>' '^ ^«"'^e a
%nely a hint to n.ake hTv S^a " -'l ^^'*^'' ^''^P I^«^d
fewr and far between." ^^'^ '''""^ "'"'■e «ke angels',
She leads him back R..* »k i
heavens, the beautj fn« L iS?'^ ïîf «°"^ °"^ «^ ^^e
shines, or if it docsT r aLS, ^^- ^he sun no loneer
fs, she pi ^ases. - She S^L am.1^'f Jane does with h,m .
talks to him i» her sSim ^m^ ""^ '**^' *'"" aboat, and
/V,
, 5 »,» . t/
^^^@t».-^.ié«^.-
i I
^
'P^
AT THE PIC NIC.
I8S
her sch2>Is and societies, apd it ail falls dead flat on TenV s
ears. He J^ears as he might hear the 'drowsy rinple of a m,ll
strrtim-hç conipreherideth noL " Crystal and Er^r vZ
and Crystal/' thèse unit^^ names ring S changefôv;; and
over and over again in hls dazed brain ^
"There theyanel" cries Elizabeth Tane with inn.h.r
V.CJOUS snap of the little da.Ic eyes. ^T^k^^r^^,
The seventh. Miss Higginâ did not niean it in îhat sensé
grass '^E^ÎJrtTl^^^^ ^T ^^ey can,e togeth.r oler T'
funmer côttunl' f^"."^' elegantv. handsome, in faultless
sunimer costume, a straw hat puUed over his eves •
he7urettv fit ""■•^'"' g-'-'^ liftle strrrw flat ti ed ^^t;
her pretty Grecian nose, and a biinch of big flagrant ^ater
W.es m her hand. It was a specialty of the pSs/m «s
Higgms thatyou rarely saw her except covered whh flomî
.décorations. They espied Elizabeth Jane and h^ esc^
"Sh'fî^ fhTs'ai^"^' nervous start ind gasp for breST' '
TerryP» ' '" *^^' fnghtened whisper, "it is.
ùZ^^' ya-as-^so^it is, Térry," drawled Lord Dynely put-
Ung up h.s eye-glass. " VVhere did he drop fronf ? I ^
, little 'un, how are you ?" ^ ^^^
pne languid hand. Terry took it, and dropped it as xi
«on gfeddened neither his eves nor his heart. ^ ^
«m. A* f, ?*"*"* y°*^ ^" ''"°«^- Glad to sec yOu aJl the
j"""ome"^"' """ ^'"^ ^'^^^"-« " -"«^ hâve beln!
Cr;l"SS''"TLT7 '^f't^ -J^^h, his eyes fixed on
heart. *'^^. ^ ^y' reluc»ïït hand, smote him to thç
letiêî?" r "'"''' ^'^''^^^" ^^ '^•'^ "You received m^^
" Ob, yes, thank you."
T r il ilw n j M f Mi g» Ci> uud >s fumiula wh en grea tly emb«w
;74^:st
S-
...,""iîf"î
i86
■Z" C 'V'
AT THE PICNIC.
of E^fc" bT„r.;eT a' cmâr„"? r *' ""i.'^ '■"-'-■ ?'--
week." roreign, pari». You were to be back jn i
■ and S if a ',>en«u7 "?«"'"'™ "O"'' ='*>d >he wear
coming, 'Liza lane Vnn'li «v^ ^^^ ^'■- Meeke
b» '*«* jaire. YOU 11 excuse me, won't vmi ?"
fire of lo*e and iSusv htr!" ""^ "'^^ ''^•^ "«^ ^°°^ ^^ê
-/[bfbifbSsF^^^^^^^^^
^
V
I.*. s , Juf ''
■# -
^f
\ -
, Y-^r rji£ PIC NIC. \ .Q„
He has lost Crystal » • , '^'
Ay,, lost her; thougli Eric shoUld be plaving his olr
gamc <,f fast and loose with girls' hearts, woobg fhem th '
Kour w.th his charming grâce and débonnaire tealo
llirow them away the next, Crystal is lost^tp hiniS 'tl c
same. If her heart has gone ti Dynely orVny o her m,,
then she goes with it. The heart that cornes tô C fo " fc
must hâve held no other Jodger. And she loves EHc-it
has ever been an easy thing for ail women to do tiiat-he
hercS' 'And P ^'^T «^«^^^r-' i" the fir.t «ush o(
nercheek. And Eric— whatidoes Eric mean ?
By heaveh !" Terry thlnks, his eyes flashing, "he shall
no Play wuh her, as he has done wi[h so many He sha
not |«..n her love only to fling it contemptuousï; avvay «c
shall ttot woo her, and tire of her, and spoil her life and
"^tifh ^'^ '^^^t fhe^has done with otheïs. l'il kiU h.ni
With njy own hand first."
looking as unlike ZTerry ^ 'cafSe'concdver^ndTe^
■ S îr.h^ofThe^;""'^"- K ^^"^^"^ '^ -^^^ ^y ^"^ ■
blares St / r "' '", '^^ ^?^* ^^"^^« ^^^^ ^^e band
blares forth a German waltz, and iittle Crystal is floatin<. -
round and round Hke a whiffof eidp-downiTïïrd DyTe Lf
practised arms. He sees Terry, ald s.niles a ^^0^1
of sm.e to himself If Terry' s pùrpose in Xm ne wra -'
K'^Dvn^w" '"h\"' itcoufd n'otL plaLfrSnJt
l.ord Dynely. He has seen h s àtate from the first hï '
And Eues a.n tighlens around dfBurs sliuvpinb »ai>t
in:o''^; ii^^i'.^i^:. ''^'^^ "«■" °' ^-'h^ '^'
His f^ncy forCiystal hai
"^"'^- He l ov es her^-^^r
' il
' <•
heart ""SEe will not be.half
coolèil» neve^ for a mo.
4oc$-^witlr h» wito^
ible a wife as;, France,
\ ■
"■.«Pf
f'-^r^^y.'-'
i88
^r Tas picNic,
•hall.- Opposition and a rival h ITk™ i"='^ ''«'""« »"d
«-hat «II, ,hi, Httle vill^e b««rS,,n 'k^T^ ''™ = ™""=
very evening he wiu speX ^ "" ^ ""^ "■"■=• Tbis
danc|:rb^.rc^,''=.d'a^|heja ,H hin, f™,„ ,,,
«nce sh. J„ LorAD^n'l^S^r*"*""»""' "«« "«
,^«.ç„,a.ly.i„4 Te^r^^-nrVi'Snl^;; ^^^^.^^
S's^^atlTT^Sa-'yjr --".."
f°.' Vou are .ure. Crys,al,^ Vo^ don. care fo,
•nadly jealous I hâve been bSe no^ »^°" ^""'^ "^"«^ ^«^ ^
her mth a gaze she ^l^'Zt t^^t-^' '' '°«k'"g ^^
" ISove you. Crvstal » i ^" ^" ^^ «"ce lie speaks
wife - ^ "' ^"^y^^^' ^e says ; " I want you to be nt
*******
It is an hoùr later tk» ^- ■ * *
perse. Lord DyneW is o hS"""»!^ "' beginning to dis.
theyretum to the starting "Z* * "'^"' "'"^g« «"en
outwardly at leait, a trifle bSed K •' ^t^-V°^^^^ and
""••I^Si"'' \'' »-« in .Kit &- "= """"'"• '^°«
1i
1=1
'•m^Y.,
^,<9/,
■^',' f ' •->' î»
% \
' *»»*i,"
,„w'.;^,.> -" .-1
■ rp7^7T^'7f^^^75n
i- '•<%,'<"M-,ji^74»r^«*^
npling baby
le must and
him ; coiue
wife. This
11, froin the
îd twiJight.
sothat Ifé
f bliss ever
inging her
ar-studded
II
t" puts in
Terry I "
care for
^ ' . AT^TffE PICNIC. î o
i"^ J ge' ^ou-^n-^n^a^ei;,» "i^Tf' -" -•. And
gave nt' .ha.f"""'™'' * '"i"? Pain in her vofce, "Terry
Terry, and he can mV^^i^VT^r 1 -^ ^^^^ ^^t"»^» it to
ring but mîneLncefortrfoliver?"'^^ " ^^""^ °° "^"'"
î it, little
nowhow
see if he
3king at
red and
speaks.
> be niy
p '
to dis-
: in his
s when
Lord
d, and
I alone
issay^
^
.«
-■■ !•
■ S
■
— 5
. 1..
■
j':
.'^
•
/
■
J
..: \
i
/
■< ■
'é#^V%--
■ .-
'■!■■
,. .1^,
'-i'%
^ÉÉA
^
^r^
/
1
.
a
é
î
* w
'
'
t-
i
.:^ ""
■
-* U-^-. -
,. --.
\
•'#
,<
-
•
'
,
'■'
7
'
1
*
t.
"
•
■
«
': '
< •
•
i-
•
^
"■
■,j
^^m
^^^pw?
•^^
/
_ >'
S
'■
■f P
■f
'
•■/■
1 ' ■■
1
i
,/
\
..
■ w
/
\
•
;*
'
7
.^
1
'
: —
■— -r-
— -_
■
•
/'
-
^
1
1
■
■
-»■ " ■ ' i
,'i
'i*
■>
k.
t
'» ^
0^:\^
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
k
A
^
f/.
I.Ô !f lài IM
l.l
Hî 1^ 12.0
18
11.25
||M
1^
1
6" —
, -
<
►
Sciences
Corporation
23 WtST MAIN STRIET
WfBSTER.N.Y. 14S80
(716) S73^S03
^
., .■•■'V-n.-W.'s-tiï-î''.,...
^'igrcf|#^^n:. 'tz-^^
¥'*
CHAPTERXIL,
«THEY SHALL TARE WHO HAVE THE POWER."
■ lover. Thiy shoJ Sr!. ^'^j**^^ ^"^ '^^^ 'o^i'>
ioy. a»d there îs a half smiJe of ït u^"^""' ^'S"^' «^ Uai.
Eric's. They drink tel nul F?u .^^^''^^'o» and triumph in
tnps down to jhe gâte. SyTr Ss^de'""^^'- ^"^ ^^^^^^'
between both his hanl .^J^rr/"? '^'^"^ ^'"^
papa. Good-nighf. .queên rose of t£"'^'^ /"ï^^*^^ ^^'^'^
girIs,'anddrean?ofnie" ^''^ '"^'^^^'^ S^rden ol
han'XsLîVîif f ^^rTlt^ant °" °1 ^■^'^^- "-
how great, ho«r good I So far f hn î^ '"^" ' "°^ ""ble,
wonderful condef cens on to We he;^^^^^^^ in his
Oh, what a thrice-blessedriri she7sî c;"'^''" '^^'- '""« ^"■'-•- *
cent fairy must hâve presidfd «fh u- u^i5^'>' '°™e ^enefi-
thus chosen the electTf^he gods '''' ^^^' '^' ^''«"'^ l^«
^nd'liiLttiYane";;! ^^'r''^'^' ''^ ^- E^- ^
^ew js falHng, and that yo^^ess is^g^n^a^er ^^^^^^^^^^^
''^^X^MluZ^f^Pt^^^^ -rrs. gently..
C(
,^^lj0*^
^UEY SHALL TAKE WHO HAVE POt^R. ,9,
«rifcd"î!!m^*'"T'K'^^ iï"*^'' ^'^^^ ^ ''^^ Elizabeth Jane
mil lead him, and how différent her life is ordered fr6,n
poor, plam Eluabeth Jane's. She feels a great pity fok "
She stops and recoils, a swift flush ôf pain and shame
darkensher hy-lcafface for tall an.i ^,.1, tt 1 ^"^'"^
before her. ' ^^'^'^' ^^"^^ looms up
Jl}]"^ ^^^ no chance to.say « word to yon ail day Crvs-
tal he says trymg to speak cheerfnlly. ^. You hav^ been
90 completely monopolized by Dynely It is a lovl^^
mght-iefustakeatun.aroandtheyrIkn?'' ^^'"'^
What-at tvvelve o'clock ? Oh? Terry i" she laucrhs.
he?ïan^d7o"lî!nW ''^'''k ^'^^'^^' ^ ^'"^" ^^^^^^^ vision, kisse^ -•
lie Rev M r" ^>^"HP^^Ja"ding, and disap,^;rs.
by two ï't ^. r f "?.' "'■^«.daughters are paired off W
VU.lZ :u T Crystal's misfortune to be billeted with
Eluabeth Jane. And when Elizabeth Jane cornes u ,
ont to FI t"wK'?^' *''**',"« ^ "^"^^<^» accompaninient whh
dre^a. tJh. t ' *e.spn"IS» Hghtly out of bed ind
^H
[e^
■(.. 'iv'i'wvi'ïû t
''mÉÊMM
192 THEY SffALL TAKE WHO HAVE POWEIt.
Ail within is still and asleep, ail without is awakie and
fuU of jubilant hfe. The roses turn tbeir crimson, p.Tk ad
finowy faces up to that cloudless sky, a hundred c oirs
bjrds pour forth their n.atin song ; o/eV ail the si ."e
Hvmn nf P • ^^ ''''""^^'ù " ^n^ol^ntarily Mendel.sohn'
a^rbLlXVSl^^rd'?''^^-"^^^ ^" ''- '^-'^^^^^
She runs down to thè gâte a«d leans over it, still sinein^
Her song reaches another early riser, loung ng aiu S
aga.n.tan elm near by, smoking a matinal ciga^r^He tart,
flings the cigar away, and crashes throWh thf dewy Lincoîn
shrre grass to join her. It is Terr^. v/ho else inTha hou^'
hold of women smokes régal iaiat^ve in the mornin/? "^"
ferry has iipt s ept well-has.no^slept at all-and looks
haggard and anxious in this brïUiark Lrning light He
pulls his straw hat farther over hisVMo excMe the daz
zhng Sun, and sees Crystal's sweet fa4%ud, and ^ears^^^^^^^
fi «n"^u^'^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^ >°'"« her. V%e;vous troubla
look fiUs the gentle eyes, the loveliest, llthinks. o'n earSIi
" Vou were always an early riser, Crysf'^ ' °"^^'^^^B
- a faint smile. « I see you keep up your gooa H
you hâve quite slept away yesterday's fttiguej
Ar.^^^^' ,^"^ y°"'" '■^t*'^^^ M^ss Crystal. «Xfîbpë your
dreannwerepleasant, Terry?" ' A^cyour
' grJvely"^"''" ''^^* "°'' ^'■^^'"^'^ ^* ^"'" T'erry^ers,
She glances up at him shyly, then turns aw^y and b^
^.Ihng nervously at the sweetbrier growing oTer the gf^
tl 1 f , T °^ ^"^t ""'^ destructive hands and holds i>
fast and looks at the finger upon which he had placed the
andtrnoti^g" ''"' '''''' half-frightened, Wtutt.
" You promised to wear it, Crystal "-
« I beg your pardon, Teny, I did not. You put it there.
and I wore it untiJ " ^ "lere.
" Until— go on, Crystal."
But she wiU not, it seems. She turns farther from him
;^»«.» v^iuatas aweciDner sprayg w a oïo n iy; ~~ "^ — ""
fvv «• #• 1
\
/.:^-3
r^£y SHALL TAKE WHO HAVE POWER.
193
" Unril when, Crystal ? Answer me."
" Until last night, then."-
" And what became of it last night ?"
Ile tries to see her face, but she bolds it love over the fra-
grant blossoms, and is silent again
«Crystal! Crystal!" he cries out; "what does it ail
mean? Who removed my ring ? "
^^Then ail at once she turn* at bay and looks at hîm
"Lord Dynely toolf it last night. He had a right to taîce
[1 '.^^"^ear no man's ring but bis ail the days of my
hurt you, Terry, but— I love himr
Her courage dies away^s.quickly as it came. She grows
cnmson a^l over her pearl-wfiite face, and returns once moTe
to the suffering sweetbner. '^ .'■
For Terry— he stands -as a man who receives his death-
rjrï"%„riul"l It A«.A -P-^^^ it-has
blow-
known it. Ônly that does nôt sêem"*to mïkelï' any "he
easier now. * «. v "»c
\J^^ fT^l ^"^ï*^"' ^'^'■- ^'^^ ^'^^« ^ iook at him, and
that look fnghtens. her more. \
■ '\ Oh, Terry, don't be angry," she fajters, the ready tears
spnnging to her eyes. » How could I help it ? How could
1— how could ariy one help loving him ? '\
'; No," Terry answers, a curious sfiffness about his lips. a
cunoushardness m his tone; "you could not help it I
raight hâve known it. You are only a chUd-I thought you
a Sn"'" ''°"''' nothelp.it ; but hè-by Heavin, he's
She st^ted up— stung into strength by that.
v.„ -r" ?^ ' " •^''^ ^'^^ °"*' Passionately. " How dure
v«.^'h "^ Dennison You say ^o me behind his back what
you dare not say to his feçe. He is the best and noblest
«an that ever lived." :t
^the blue eyes looked up (earless and flasbing jj p hS^
^Ifou love him, Crystal ? "
V
'^ ^1 * - •; *»
-iS ■ï^jéd
I
; î:rr-
: « r,»»*"5-j"'4' '«.'4
T' v'''"S.N#j/'.. ■il
194 y^^K ^^.€ZZ TA/CE IV/fO HAyE POWER.
^.J' With my whole heart-so well thatif I lost him I should
« ^nd he— he tells you he loves you, I suppose? "
truly^l: itnd he?e"'' ' '"°" '' ' ''"°-" -^u^and
, fo"edtraL'sYtt"Xl^^^^^^ her,lea„inghi.
score piy Lord^ Dynély has told that same story to in h"s
one-and-twenty years of life ? We live in a fas7age, but î
doubt if many men go quite so fast as that. I wonder what
France Forrester will say to ail this ? "
The angry color faded out of her face, the ancry light
died out of her eyes. She stood looking at him?2oS
ashejgray. She had utterly forgotten that. "'™' S'°'''"8
Miss Fpn-ester!" she responded, slowly; "I fdrgot! I
forgot ! And last r^ht he told me-he told me—'?
c,;^ ^^ t°^<l yo" noïhing about her, l'il swear 1 " Dennison
Srst^^tHn'.?'' '"K-^^^le.^""^^' " '^'' " hasbeen an un
fh?Mï . ^ ÎT ^" "^^"^^ *h^^ ^^ «'as to marry her ;
l^?e that TS-Ï""'^ three weeks ago to ask her toL hi
IIl . u''^ /"^ ^l^ ^^'> ^^S her, entreat her, and that
she sent him down hère out of the way, pending her fina
answer ; that if that answer be favorable [hey are tl be maî
ned next spnng in London. His mother told me Whaî
nortelîrdf th^:^. '^' "^^^' ^^^^^^•' ' - ^"- -- ^^^
"There is one fortunate cirobjnstance aboutit" the
young nianwent on; "he is a villain, but he won' t break
Z \7'' .- ^°%^^'^>«ï ™ay «eem to y'ou, but ail ?he bemUy
and attraction of your demi-god are quite thrown away upôn
her. . She doesn't care for him. She knowrs him to J)e
h^ok.'n' ^"5 r'" ""''"^'" '^^"^ water^the frailestof l5
broken reeds for any woman to lean on-and will rejoice ac
cordingly at being rid of him. But for you, Ciystaî-you^ê
notUieûrst, nor the hundred-and Whe hasTwSt
Tny!<^ to ; TOyoWribTb^lheTasC that /swSu^iTy^
'TiS^»^^}-'
X,. ' •
'î»>
. Whèf
■fe-
t^EY SHALL TAtCE WttO HAVE POWER. ,95
give hira a chance. If you care for Lord Eric Dynely, and
want to keep hun, why, then, raarry him out of hand-
strike while the iron làj^ot."
Shesaid, not a word. WltUe and still she stood, ail life
and color stncken ont of eyes and faceby his words.
Ashelooked at her the bitterness died out of his own
soûl m compassion and remorse.
"Oh, Crystal, forgive me i " he said. " I am a brute ! I
ought not to say such things to you. But-^I loved you se
-I hâve loved you ail my hfe. I trusted you, and I trusted
It was more than she could bear-her owtï pain and his
vïnished ^^^^ ^"'^^' ^"""^ °"" °^ ^^^ S^^^^" '^^'^'' ^nd
The day was six hours ol^r-the vicarage docks were
stnking eWen-^s Lord Dynely dismounted from ". hisTed
roan steed at the vicarage gâte, and flung his horse's bridle
HL?" F.r^fi^^'^-P°''- ^^°^^ ^^ '^«"'^ ^^a^lï the ho"se!
paths and beckoned him to approach. -
".You, my darling," he said, gayly, "and on thewatchfor
' your deyoted knighfs coming. l'L not late, am I ? Buî
earlynsmg as you understand the term in this primitive
wilderness,is«^/mymost prominent perfection."
vn., T /^^ !^'^' ?'°^'y' " ï *^a^e something to say to
you. Last night when we were talking-when you told
ForriSer.-r "^ "'^' ^^."-3^°" said'nothing ^of Miss
angry light ever so ready to rise. ^
«-"A''°Jî*^ been talking to you ? " he deraanded. " But I
need hardly ask. Mr. Terrence Dennison, of course."
from hU ! °T *f ^^^ '°"« ^""^" «he returned, shrinking
rlcoi Ï'%^"S^ '°oks, tremblinç like a nervbus child, yet
n!.n f ^. V °"' " °"'^ ^ ^4ot it yesterday. Oh, Lord
ld![ w" '""'" 'V^^^ to say such t Lgs to me:
-^g.^^ the^ttme^engagedtgmanyrerT^"— — — —
«.HTk^'S u°^^ utterlyfor the first time with the words.
and cavenng her face with her hands, sobbed hysterically.
L^J
, ^->'fei
* »
r -
fé'?^^.
'^W^
g^ïfW»;
vrjf fj -.T ^ Tir^ ' 'J ^ l''*'-*rr Î.'T^P^^
196 THEY SHALL TAKE WHO HAVE POWER.
" Why did you ever corne hère— why did yoii make me
love you— how could you deceive nie so ? 1 knew I was
not^ worthy of you. I was happy before you came ;
"You would hâve married Deanison, and lived happy
for ever after? Is that whàt you are trying to say, Miss
Higgms ? Terry has been pleading his own cause this morn-
ing, I see, and slandering me. Common gratitude from the
dépendant of my mother's bounty might hâve kept hioi
silent, if nothing else ; but gratitude is an obsolète virtue.
Smce you are so easily influenced by him, it would be a pity
to take yo^ from him. \ Hère is his ripg— let nîe replace it
on yourfinger, and take back àll thè nonsensical things J
said to you last evening." y
She uttered a cry like a child under the lash. At that
Sound ail ange^died out within him, he caught her hands
^nd heW them in a fierce, close clasp.
" I will never let you go,", he said. " I swear it. My
wife you shall be, and no other-s. You are mirie— n.ine
alone, and as mme I claim you. I deny ail Dénnison's
slanders. I am not engaged to Miss Forrester or any othei-v
hvmg woman. Miss Forrester is no more anxious to marry
me than I am to marfy her. It is ail my mother's doing
and her guardian's— they made the* compact, but we will not
ratify it. You I love, and you I will make my wife. Where
is your father?— in his study.? ïhen I will go to him at
once, and make an end of ail doubt."
He strode away, and, looking handsome and haughty, was
admitted mto Mr. Higgins' private sanctum. In few and
soniewhat insolently authoritative words he made known his
errand. He loved his daughter Crystal, he wished to make
her his wife. Then he sat still, and looked at the
clergyman. If he expected the Vicar of Starling.to be
overpowered fcy the honor he wa? doing him, he was
mtstaken.
Mr. Higgins sat aghast, literally ;^hast, and pushing his
spectacles up his forehead sat helplessly staring at the yogog
~ss
■i». >'.
■iu4' *.Slfe4«?l4
-■>1
, r/r/TK SITALZ TAJTE WHO HAVE POWER, ,57
**^My daughterl My dauçhter Crystal., K^i/ want te
aaarry her, Lord Dynely. 01^ impossible f impossible I "
"And why mipossible, sir, may I açk?» haughtily and
angnly. ^ ^ '
" Because— Lord bless my soûl ! because she's too younr
to marry any one ; because wheh she's fwo or three years
older were going to itiarry her to Terry Dennison. It's
been an understood thing always, always, that Christabel
was to toarry Terry."
' " And may I ask again, Mr. Higgins," cried Lord Dynely,
stiU more angrily, stiU more haughtily,^ " if you prefcr
Dennison to me ? "
" Well-well-well, don't be angry, my dear youftg g'entle-
man, don t be angry. Bless rty soûl ! you marry C?ystal !
Upon my word and honor, I néVer thought of suc* a thin?
— never! Prefer Dennison! well, in .a worldly point 0I
View, you re the best match of course, but, then, we knoW
Terry, and he's one of the family, and he's a good lad— oh
a very good lad ! and 1 shouldn't be afraid to trust my Httle
one to his kceping." '
«And you are afraid to trust her to mine! " said lordlv
£,nc, pale with passion. ^*
"^.- "No, no, not that either! Bless my souI, don't be so'
quick to jump at conclusions. It's only this-I know hira
better than I do you— I trust him entirely, and thçn it's been
an understood thing always. Crissy has no right to play fast '
and loose with Terry. Besides, there's yoîr cousin-no,
Shes not your cousin, I suppose, but. ifs ail the same. î
mean, of course, Miss France Forrester." ^
u".^?';/'""'" <ï«™a"<îs the exasperated you ig lord, "and
whatof Miss France Forrester?"
be^'n^old'*'^'^^""'''* ^^^" engaged to her, or so I hâve
' »" J'îf'V ^!,- Jî'«gi"s. you've been\,told an infernal lie,"
retorted Lord Dyoély, too utterly overcome with rage and
exaspération to much mind wbat he said ; •" I never was en-
f^^A l'f *^^ Forrester or any one else. Am 1 to un.
iSïïU^^ décli ne to accept me as the hu sband of
A
h-
_^T;^;,,|^t/-9^-^,. r.-%7^^^^^^^[
i /
\
1^8 "TffÈY SHAJ,f.,TAlCB WHO HAVE POWER.
<Oh, dçar «<^
'don't knovtr what
so
jl^r» Higgins, in a troubled tonè,
^je» l'm sure. You've taken me o«
much by surpnse— I alwaj^s l^ked upon her as belonging
This was growing more than Lord Dynely could bear. He
rose to his feet, exasperated beyond endui^nce.
. '^^'^«i^"'^'" saîtf the vicar, piteousty ;; " wait a little, my
, lord. What does Christabel say ? She ià in love with you,
I suppose ?" '
" She does me that honor, Mr. Higgins."
" It's a brilliant match for her, and yét," iç that troubled
tone, " I do believe she would be happier màrriçd to "
" Mr. Higgins, you insuit me I I décline to listen longer.
Good-morning:" * • ^
"I beg your pardon, Lord Dynely. I had na intention
of insultmg you, I am sure. If Crystal wishes it, and you
wish itj why then — why then I hâve no more to say. Ônly
thïs, obtain your mother's consent. No daughter of mine
shall enter any family that considers her beneath them or is
unwilhng to re<;eive her. Obtain your mother's consent and
you shall hâve mine. Only"— this in a low voice and with
a sorrowful shake of the head— " I would rather it had been
Terry."
Lord Dynely, quite pale with haughty surprise and anger,
bowed himself out. Opposition was crowding upon him,
and he set his teeth, and swore he would hâve her in spite
of a thousand imbécile vicars, a thousand match-making
mothers. And Mr. Higgins sat blinking in a dazed way in
the sunshine, fuU of vague, apprehensive regrets.
" He's a fine yohng man— a handsome young man, well-
born, well-bred, titled and rich ; and yet I am afraid of him.
It s thèse brilliant young men who break their wives' hearts
as easily as I could my pipe-stem. It will be a great match
for one of my girls, but I would rather it were Terry."
Leaning against the vine-clad porch. Lord Dynely came
face to far^ with Terry himself. * He paused and looked at
mm, his blue eyes lurid with anger and défiance.
" WeH, little 'un," he said, with an insolent laugh, " you've
heard the news, I suppose? l'm to many Crystal. Con
*^^.
■Jk 1- iw. //■;
\
î^M-'#i-!2&-'*45ii£M''^S'^'X?^'^#*'k^îS^fe,
» '3^ JV^' '-T^jfj).'^»! ^" " ' •' Jv" ''''■' '■',!> * '' '''■> " ''" '"'^ ;îî'^" > î^^ï
r/TiffF ^-/WZZ TW^iff HTffO HAVE POWER,
\
99
gratulate nie, won't you ? l' ve been rather poaching on yoiir
mandr, you see ; but, if the dear little giri bas the bad taste
to prefer me to you, what then ? And aU's fair in love and
war." " ,
He turned. to go before Dennison could speak; thî^l
défiant ring still in eyes, and voice, and laugh.
" Can you tell me where l'il find her, Terry ? Ah, I see -*
her in ^he arbor yonder. Don't look so seedy, dear old'
man— you know the adage that has held good ever sinçQ the^
world began, that — ^
" They shall take who hâve the power, '
And they shall keep who can." ' ,
His mocking laugh came back as he struck a Vesuvian,
lit a cigarette, aad sauntéred down the path to join CrystaL
/
k
y
■4
V
^<,!^^.,'^v^*i.>r
î'^^i'W^f.T^îT'-'*
"^é
y
CHAPTER XIII.
LIJHTLY WOlk, LIOHTLY LOST.
lORTON?"
^
;'Yes,ii,ylo# . .
;"Pack my portmatjteau, and hold yourself in
" Yes, my lord." " • ^
Train ILrts^iî; l^J''''\^^^ ''^R '■^""^ •" fift^^^" '">'n"tes.
"Yes, my lord." *
ri^SfT^ ""*' ^''^*. ^^^^^^^^ P°"<=h, Norton, that book of
cigarette paper, and Corne in "
AU this^multiplicity of directions Lord Dynely murmured
&Sne;tfd':^'''"''"^^"^"^^^°^^« invitation, Ter.^
viewrthfvici'°o?<S^ thfemorning following-that inter.
-i 1 T i J^ "^" **' Starhng's studvi Only nine oVlork
ajd Lord Dypely, whose usull hour 5f risinVand LlHnl f»;
chocolaté in bed wfts twelve, was up and dresld No? on?v
«r H'e'^L'Tï' '? """^^^ •" mosrurxceptfonlrg" î
up. He was,. as has been said, a dandy of the firàt wat^r «
djfficult to please in the fit of k coat as^^youn^duchess
As he ky now^every garment he wore, in niake and col
J
j_j~«j., ,
UGHTIY 1V0}f, UGHTLV LÔST.
201
4^T
hÎ8 efforts w«re not in yain, hiç dress always looked as though
V it were a part of " himsclf.
He looked up gavly at Denmson's approach. He was in
high gdpd huWortWs morning— at peaçe«with ail th0 jvoild.
Yesterda/s irritation had entirçl^^ssed away, .Çrystars
father might he exasperating, to tne last degree, but Crystal
berself was entirely^atisfactqry. And when Crystat was his
wife be would^take care the' Vicar of Starling an^ hi« familv ''
8aw inicbmmonly little of her. For Terry — well/ looking at
it dispassionately, after an excellent dinner and à prime Ma-
nilla, he was forced to admit, that Terfy, poor beggar 1 had
»ome little cause of complaint. Somethnlg very like foui play
had been doné on his part, something the codes ofljis order
and his honor would hardly recognize. Still, what was done,
was done. Crystal he would resigrifto no roan living, and
Dennison muet make the^best of it. This^mexpected oppo-
sition had but strengthened his passion ; he Bad never been
8o thoruîighl/ in earnest before abôut anV love affair in his
life. He was going to see his motherj^day and bring her
to reason. She would prove a little restive on his hands-^at
first, on Fraifce's acçount, but he would, speedily bring. her
around. For P"ranceywell, he winced a little at the thought
of meeting France. To be laughed at was horrible, and he"
could seç France's dark, mischievous, satirical èyes, ^rance's
cynical little laugh, hear FranCe's sarcastic, cntting speeches,
" Who was she ? " indeed. The girl must be a witch. Your
sharp girl, your clever girl, was an outrage on natiire. Woniel
Were made for man's use, benefit and pleaspre; why, then, V
were half of them as man didn't like them? Ciystal^with-
out two ideas in her pretty head aftd loving heart, wais his
idéal of wpmankind. Yes, he would bring^his mother round,
fetch her down hère to see Crystah hâve the marriage ar-
ranged to talçe place before Christmas, ail on the quieÉ, and
spend the Wintér rambling about sunny Italy. And next
season Lady Dynely would burst Aipon London the Weliest
thîog ont, a pi;ide to her husbanci, an honoi; and crédit tq hia i
~ iMte. .^ ^
/ Ail this i n>ram6li ng, disconnected. self-satisfied fashionj
"^ WB^Î^ySilf hadifaouj^ owerlast night -Noil^^ïe layioÛing
:'*1
-?r
«7
f^lf'UfTr?'^
î.'-
.^r
202
LIGHTLY WON, LIGHTLY LOST,
!ins\n!f r'K' T^'^/^ît^' P'-»<=tised fingers, a smile on iii,
D#nn"son ^^"^'«'"^ ^^^^ «y^^as he looked up at Mr.
" Pow are you, Terry ? " he said, genially, "Corne in • ^
midst of an exo^us, y^u ^^off to Devonshire. Km
commission for France or thé madré ? " ^
"Iwillsendànoteby yoi^ to Xady Dynely," Terry an-
cSt ^'''^' °°?'"« v2ry grave, and ratherpale^ErU:
could see at second glance, hjs mouth set and stem ûnder
bis tawny beard and mustacrie. "It may be some time
^'tt^^fnd's:^ 7 " P^^^^'^- . J°'" "^^ -S'-"* ^his week
"Ah! leaVè of absence exLired? Be off, Norton and
order round [he trap. Only fen minutes tô startS'tfni2
now. Very lUospitableof me, Terry-you don't ,M^mW^
ing calls at Carruthers Court often Jbut I really ni^tSt
short. I wenty-five minutes to starting time, and vou know
what the drive to the station is." . ^
barder under his léonine beard. "I came to sav a fZ
words about Crystal." ^^ * '^^'^
Lord Dynely's cigarette was quite ready now. He looked
up at his companion with that slow, indolent smile of his that
.. A°h??^ r f ?ï ^"«olence in it, struck a fuse and lit up.
rhn.« ^ ^'^'^^^ ^ Let ushear it, Terry. You could n't
Sîirmor'nlllg"' "'""'"' "'^'''- """^ '' '""^ ^'"^^ ^^""8
T nri n°"'^'^^ anything about your conduct in this matter,
IZiP^'lt^" Terry began; "you know best whether i
bas been the conduct of a man of honor or not Crystal
perhaps, is not to blâme." • A-rysiai,
" How magnanimous ! ' Crystal is not to blâme.' You
-!f K r^' ^^f ^^^ *° "*"^ y°»' »n<l because she honors
TL X .r P'eference and acceptance, she is not to blâme.
* Ih^r 7r *'"''T*^ ^^' ^"."^' "^«^' Terry-she makes
a rather better match in marrying lA)rd Dynely than she
would in marrying Terry Dennison?" ^
— — T>i«» «nnw» MKUmi^ ^a^Ti. i:_trf„ : ■-■ •
^^%arangi7 gîeain was l^ting again Enc*8 sleepy^^
/
fa f *• ïf/» (iia. 1 #. ' oa-141 . , 1 1
^j^a^ii^j^Ày^-^L.
^;i^:
LIGHTLY WON, LIGHTLY LOST.
203
but his soft, slow tones never rose as he spoke. He watched
Terry from behind the wreaths of scented smoke, and saw
the flush thât arose and overspread his whole face.
" Yes,"- Terry answered, after a pause, in a slow, stranw
yoice, " you are right ; she raakes a better match in mar^.
ing Lord Dynely than in marrying Terry Deimison. As I
had never, in so niany words, asked her tfljb niy wife
whateyer ipay hâve been understood, I repeaTl hold lOt^
blarneless m this. She loves you— she never did me. I
might hâve foreseen,^ but— I trusted you both."
" Don't seei» to sée it," Lord Dynely drawled, lookinir at
his watch. "Only ^ven minutes, Mr. Dennison ; verv
sorry to eut it short, I repeat, but — "
" But you shall heaf what I hâve corné to say," Terry ex-
clauned, turnmg upon hira. « It is this : I know how you
hold wpmen— I know, how it is you hâve treated them— I
know you hold It fair sport to win hearts and flinajthem
away. What I hâve corne to say is— don't do it hère/ She
has no brother or father capable of protecting her. I will
be her brother, if I may be no more. For your mother^s
sake you are the last man on earth I would wish to raise
niy hand against, but this I say, this I mean— if wou trifle
with Cryslal as you bave trifled with others, Eric, you shall
answer to me !" %
He brought his clenched hand down upon the inlaid
table, the vems of his forehead swoUen and dark, witb the
mtensity of feeling within him. Lord Dynely laughed softly,
and flung his cigarette out through the open window.
Bon! But would it not be well to intimate as much
jquietly. You do it very well, mv dear boy, for an amateur :
^)ut one gets so much of that kmd of thing at the théâtre,
and they do it better there. You mean well, I dare say—
sentmients do you honor, and âU'that; but this tremendous
eamestness is m such^cuced bad foriQ— in Aueust, of aU
months, particularly." _
" Ihave said my say," was Dennison's response. « It is
^^h^^arëTWhear ànd rememben 'TCurely m Se boS
•Cadd hère— if there is any foui play in this business, your
7^
•V»
■*.!*■ fi
rim,^^'
^^"^^^
'i t.
mr.
'^ ^^%? '
/-7'^'î;5*''
204
LtCHTLY WON, LIGHTLY LOST.
&~-a
hfe shall answer it. You shall not play with her, fool hei
and leâve her, as you hâve donc with so many. You shall
not break her heart, and go unpunished of God an^ man.
If al is not open and above board hère, you shall pay the
penalty— that I swear." ^ ^^ .
''Time's up," said Eric, lodking at his watch again. He
rei>laced it, arose îo his feet, and laid his hand on Terry's
shoulder.^ith that winning smile of his that niade his f/ce
So charming.
Jl^"^^ ^T' '^^'V H ^'^' '• ^ ^™ "°* such a scoundr^,
8uch a Lovelace, such a Don Giovanni, as you try to makê
me out. Im i-eady to go with little Crystal to the St.
Georges slaughter-house, 01^ the little church down a.nonff
the trees yondér, this very morning if I niight. You'ie a
good fellow, and, as I said before, your sentiments do you
honor, and so on You feel a little sore about this business,
naturally— I would myself, in your place j but all's right and
on the square hère. I never was in earnest before-I ani
now. 1 m gomg up for my mother— she niust come hère
and receive Crystal as her daughter. And when the wed-
dmg cornes off, you shall be the best man, «an' ye will,'
lerry—thal /sWear, smce swearing seems the order of the
day, And now, dear old man, don't lecture any more: it's
too hot-give you my wor^ it is, and I want to reserve al)
my strength for the joumey. Here's seltzer and sherry
Compose your feelings with that liquid refreshment, and dash
off your note to the madré while I get into my outer gar-
ments." •'6»
There was no jfesisting Eric in this mood, it was not in
huroan nature. T-he charming smile, the charming voice,
the affectionate, frankly cordial manner, would hâve hioved
and melted à Médusa.
"No, Crystal was not to blâme," Tenyï thought with a
sigh, glancing over âttheir two images in the glass—it was
ïght with Eri ""^ ^^^ *''*' "^""^^ ***°"^** ^^ '° ^^"""^"^
He "crawled off the note in a big, slap^ash sort of hand.
g ag h loog .WMd filhag a whote line7^ok!e^,^«feeif: W
gave It to Eric just as he sprang up into the ttwp •
■t^â^^..
A .,
\<.^-'^n:0r''
LtGHTLY WON, LJGMTLY LÙST.
-A;
20Ç.
" Bye-bye, old boy," he said, gayly. " When shall I tell the
madré to expect you ? Not before Christmas ? Oh, non-
sensé I She couldn't survive without you half the tima
Well, as you won't be hère when I return, adieu and au ri»
voir. Love to everybody."
The groom touched the horses. They sped down the
aveuue like the wind, and Terry was alone.
• ♦ ♦ *,♦ ♦ • • • •.•
" It is very odd we don't hear from Eric— that he doesn't
return. I can't understand it at ail. It is three weeks
since he left ; he was to be back in one. There's sonie-
thing very singular about it, to say the least."
Thus petulantly Lady Dynely to Miss Forrester. Thèy
were together in the drawing-room — her ladyship reclining
upon a sofa, a book in her hand. Miss Forrester looking
charming in palest amber tissue and white roses, lying back
in a vast downy arm chair before the open window, putting
the (inishing touches to a small sketch.
" The house is like a toinb since he and Terry left. It is
inost incompréhensible indeed, Eric's staying ail this time.
If you understand it, France, and feel satisfied, it is more
, than I do. My dear child, do put down that tiresome draw-
ing and listen. Ever since Mr. Locksle/s advenf, I believe
you hâve given yourself whoUy to art." .
The color rose in Miss Forrester's clear, dark facer' She
looked up from her drawing at once.
" I beg your pardon, Lady Dynely. What was it you
^ûdp"
'^'/l* About Eric. It's three weeks since he went away— he
' was to be back in one. And he never writes to me at
least Perhaps he treats you better— France, what are you
laughing at ? Eric has written to you ? "
Miss Forrester's musical, merry laugh chimed out
" Oh, yes, ma mire, Eric has written to me."
" And you never told me. What dôes the wretched bof
say?» '
"I don't think he is wretched. It was a ver y p le^mnt i gf _
~fcr, He merely wrote to give me up."
"France!" in horror.
'*tX
■ '.'■^
Ai
4'.^/l'
206 LIGHTLY WON, llGHTLY LOSn
"Yes, mamnia—he came to his sensés down in Lincoln
8hire Couldn't think of forcing my inclination^if Tlle n "•
posed alliance of the noble houses of Dynely and Forrester
?!^?H rh? . fi te.^''' ^^ '^^'Sned me. It read like one of
l/)rd Chesterfield s masterpieces— was a niodel of polite and
chivalric composition.". */ uic auu
A ^?°^,Heaven ! and you— France, what did you say ? "
Again Miss l'orrester's laugh rang eut.
fn 'ih/"'T^'^r'" ^'''■^^ î?'^'' niamma-terse, pithy, and
to_the point. 1 wrote, 'Dear Eric: Who is she?' That
epistle he has not donc me the honor of answering. I think
I see his face when he read it.^
««ol^V''^"-^'''"''^ ^^^ ^''''^ *"^ ^e"* off 'nto a prolonged
peal of mernment. ®
fln^hf ^ ^r^'^ '"'^ "P °" ^^^ ^°^^' he^ «délicate cheeks
flushing with vexation. \
" You wrote that, France— to Eric ? "
♦h,7 *""°^1 that, mamma, to Eric. I understand Eric better
than you do and l'm not the least afraid of Eric, and you
T\ Lrf^^''^ ^'^''^ ''""^" anything more to the point,
LLÏ^ T "J^iiV "?'''• "^ ""ght hâve answered
though ; I should hke to know who my rival is this lime "
France, do you really believe — "
tnîHîInth V'"" 5*"^^^'^" in love in Lincolnshire, for the one-
mi honth time ? Yes, Lady Dynely, as firmly as that I sit
hère. No>ir, who do y» suppose she can be? There are
wn„HK'%'" ?••■ Pl^'l'P's house^old, and I don't think he
ulv^"!?"* •"* ^^^""^^ ^^^* affections upon the cook."
Miss torrester, if you consider this a thème for jest-"
n,. M-^^'^ " ^ ^^ dignified. marama, and please don't call
ne Miss Foirester Don't 1 say, 1 don't believe he would.
in^of .K^ r^ of Terr/s family-you know what I mean-
Sic I t^ ^?^T* °^ Nine-one of the nine Misses Hig.
Klli lï ^°"'^ be <:om.cal if Terry and he were brotherl
in-law after ail, both marned on the same day, in the same
church, in the same family, by the same pastor and p^^J
Quite a pastoral idyl alto gether." ^^
^Miss Forrester laughed again. Ôf late, since the reccipt
A J^.K ,
i-.K'
UGHTLY WON, LIGHTLY LOST.
207
of I^rd Dyneiys letter.-the whole world had turned rose-
color to the heiress of Caryllynne. The portrait painting
business was still going on ; but not even to herself would
Miss Forrester admit that that had anything to do with it
lears actually sprang to Lady Dynely's pale blue eyes.
' You are cruel, France ; you don't mean to be, perhaps,
but you are. I hâve set my heart, my whole heart, on see-
ing you tnc's wife, and you treat the matter like this. Yoa
despise him-you must, since you hold him and his feelincs
so lightly and contemptnously."
France laid down her drawing, went over, knelt beside the
elder lady, and gave her a kiss.
if he hved in the same house for the next hundred and fifty
years, and I do aee Eric as he is. He's very handsome, and
very brilliant, and very charming, but he is as unstable as
water. He has no back-bone ; and if I married him, and he
didn t break my heart the first year, I should henpeck him
to death, or—ihe divorce court. For the xest, you'll see l'm
^«ght. Some new face caught- his fickle fancy down there,
andhence that magnanimous letter. I don't blâme him -
he was born so, I suppose, and can't help it. Hark ! "
She started to her feet and ran to the window. A fly from
therailway was just stopping, and a young gentleman in a
ku hfd^^"'' "" *^^ ^""^ ""^ leapifg eut. Again France
" * By the pricking of my thnmbs,
Something wicked this way cornes,'
as Hécate says.^ Speak of the angels and you hear their
wipgs. Here's Eric now." o /
Eric it was. He came in as she spoke, and met her laueh-
ing, roguish glance, that seemed to read his inmost thoughts.
_ At.last 1 Just as yoflr mother and I were tumini? our
4hoaghts ao crape a n d bombeziae. We had gîvëS ylu up^
lor lost, Éjic, and hère you corne upon us like a teautifiU
■ ■■» «'^-^
.4
W
^^^JÔ 'i 'Hh ï^'^J'sli' V'AâSfck^lvil^.'
;r, -i
>^\\
L
208
z/<y^ZK »t>Ar. ziGJsrrzyzosr.
donable.» . "'^ "*^e been considered unpar-
"Ah I but we don't live in ti,« ^- i
vacated chair. "And my de^ rtilï^^r T'''^^ '"*° P^^^^e'"
yo« |i|re;^^^^^^^^^ asiced France to «any
naturally b^'Sœ;ed^^'Ll''';remo^^?^^' ""^u^ »"*" ™-y
tliat distance of time." '"emory is somewhat hazy at
swer in a week-dici she not ? " ^^ ^°" *° ^°™« forher an.
prose'ÎJtioryr^^^^^^^^ vlr'f ^.r"-' ^- ^he
seltzer.-'tot^fbotma^^S^enteïâ''''^'^- ^'^^"^ *"<J
flashi^S^"^yf^r^'î^;;^^'DyneIy said, her eyes
-a lover-4 man of h^orV'' '^"''"^^ «^ a gentlenïan
" It was the conduct of a man of sensé.
•«•ndiebenotfair forme?
What care I how fair she be ?»
stand ; and so, apoo "a« s«^„h T° f . ""= '" """J"-
'l^^à ^î-rVr^-';?"^^,
'.'?K
•'^-^--^'^^^-
J*,T-J-^.
' .- '. »■•
i*'
UGHTLY WON, UGHTLY LOSt.
^
rSnsidcnûy'r»' ''°"'"""°' """'"""' ^'^■""*^ "«^.
"Andshesaid?" eagerly f
is sh??^ '^i'^h" 1 -^'"^ ^x?' ^^SS'^^"^ ^* *»^«^ recollection, « « Who
haven't t J.n w'^'f ^m' ^°'"''^^'^'" '""«^ ^e a sorceress. I
h,l.n Îk ï S^ *^°"'''^ *° *^" *^^^ ^''o she is, but I hâve
^f ï *'^*l,*j;?"ble to return hère to-day to tell you "
to teU me-"' "'°^''^'" "'^'^' '^^"'°« *° ^^«^ ^^^^' "^o" "«^n
excite 'vo.Tr^;;if^"r'^!?'J''"'"''""'y' "^^ «' d°^»- Don''^
bÔdv til^nL ,ï' ^°°^ "'^^"" •' ^^"«'« the use of every-
body taking thmgs so senousiy in this way— getting steam
LVe°m:fa%W^'ïï "°f"«' .^ '"-«^ '° *'" •- '^It™
Forreste f?^/ T », ^^ * î^^,"'.^"^ ^^'"^^ better~than France
Sed heV r^l ,h^^f .asked her to marryme ; that I hâve
frrpu'inTSeur " ^°"^^* ^'^^^^ '^ ^^^^ -^^^^ -«-
His mother dropped back, stunned.
In three weeks," sfie niurmured, in a da^ed voice '«^11
this m three weeks' tinie " '
TiSt ■ A^'?"- Itïsanaccomplishedfact."
Who « she ?" Lady Dyn^sked, helplessly.
" ffiggîns' ""' '''"'■ '^''"- '^'^^ '^ ^'^^ "'^g'"^"
" Yes, poor child. Ifs not a distinguished appellation
and a rose by any other name does not smell^as sweet
frr
/■,,.*, '"h
.%.. ^
A '« .•
^.
aïo
Z/^^TZK^rOAT i>^^^^^^^^^
going^t'?:l!;7pT; ™sg.rlisthesisterofthegirlTerr^.,
compréhension pe^opt appe^r J"^. ^'^ i"'^""^"^'>' ^«'d o'
lady Mr. Dennison Ked w^h h^^°'"f''^^^^^^
tended to transform info Mrs Den„; P'"?^5"'^e. ^nd in?
h."..; I carne, I sa«r. I conquere^'""^"- V"^°']""^'^'3^ fo»-
big dragoon, and I left • TVr , ?^? P^eferred me to the
at Pâvil 'AU irîLfbûtlon^r'-''""'"^' "'^«^^^-"cis Firs?
of coZ",:fving"htTce"ht'er^^
upon her son. ^ ! ''^'^ eyesjixed m a sort of horror
-^^^^'yot^^{^^^^::y^- ''l "^'r-y^^ -- to tell
Eric lifted his blonde e^l "^^ ^^^ ^'^ ^^ ^^ved ? "
" If yo« pat ft in that sent^n^nVr ^"^'^ ^-«'gnation.
She ^ood and Ced at hT„ ^'^chf P^?' '"^'""^^•"
words came. The baseness of fht f^^ ^?, «P^ak-no
«signed. the noble self ^cr fiel he LÏ^'k ^" '^^"^ ^^^^
much. He had given u^h, hJr.h .f"^ shown-was too
was EricVreturn. ^ ' birthnght to Eric, and this
thin^lrK^^^^ î-t, ,roused to some-
thematternow? wS; d"^ you tX Teï^'"/''^- • "^^^*»
to heart? isn't he bia enoJlh .n7^ ^ *^^'" ^° ™"ch
after himself ? Am I r^blamet slie to hl'"""^r^ î° ^^«'^
g" me to him? i ex«e?ted fo k .^'^'"^' '^ ^^^ P^e-
Irance's account. but. s^dliLZ ï^ i*.''?" *^ *^k on
Terr/s." ' ' ^*^ ' ^ certamly didn'f expect t6 on
kenl^ce''"'' '^"°^-3'- ^on't kno.-.' she said in a bro.
f^o^XJTLlirL^''''' TTf«^^^^ an impatient
-s « ,i-«
-,<«1(.lv« .-1
■cl?^"«tf;?*'^,f^'>^» .f
.; •M'^-«^^\t^'--,5^ V')f
. UGHTLY WON, UGHTLY LOST. ^„
' îînfr f 'P°l^ • "' f ""f '^^ °° '■«^son to complain. Hère is a
note from him, by the way, to you." nere js a
.h. P'-^ented her the letter, and sat watching her while "^
tas short : ' ""^ '^'''^ '"^^^ ^^^ ^^^i^»^ °^ ^If ch4 lî
timé^^??^ 1^^'*'' P^^'^^^ =-^^ has told you ail by this
time. If he loves her, and is good to her I ask no mnri
L'irs°L';^i,î^î^ ^°'^ '^•™' heSutwïr t^ : .
one ioves nim with ail her innocent heart. and -slïe is so-H^a^
to me, that I would die to save her a m^mën^nàin LeTt
FoT °ou'i?;'h ?^ '"^ f ^^^' ^'^^ triesTo^oHerov";: -.
th?«fo ' r . *">' ^^^'"^ whatever upon you I ask
this favor of you in return. Corne hère, take her ïoyour
"Terry."
She sank back on her sofa, crushed the letter in her hand
laid her face aga.nst the cushions, and burst inîo an ur^e
stramed passion of tears. Eric arôse angrily to his feet
.h, K-" ' "°^««ta"d this," he said. - Wha° is Dennison
Eric, before I go to dress ?" ^ ' ** ^° ^>^»
«hjlT!!'^ ^^^ " "^I^y ""'"^^ y°" accompany me to Lincoln-
^hire to-morrow, and formally receive CrKstal as my betrothed
înil^ '*°°'^ haughtily erect before her-a young Sultan issu-
^.•"l'itr^^y k'°™™*"^^ '^ ^' womankind.^
else?'^ ^°' '^^ ^'^^'^^ ^"^^^y- "^s there anything ^
feùow i^? • ' * «^eakness of Miss Forrester^s taxibiS a
Tjie voujhful autocrat musM?fr obeyedr W it h â weanr
«gh Udy Dynely sought eut Miss Fo^sL anS foîod ST
4.^
- ' • (f i^ ,■> <
»;■
</■" ■ •-•^■"^:f'^^<ï~; ■ :'^^!w^^U':.i
2ïi
^'^^^^^'^^>. z/tfisrrzKzojT:
felljn Iote'nïiSn'^w;eî'"^"'" ™>' ^^^^^ ^"«^ered; '«he
piqt^L^^^^^^^^^ ^-«^ed,- and ,et with a touch of ren.ini.e
"I knew it. T fejf ù ,• »,
phedc souI- " '" ^he uttermost depth of m> pro.
" ' Oh' Sv F°"'^'.^''^Jo^-Wted,
^1, my Eric, mine no more.'
I said.
her, to? i!;f ,, ^î;>-« js too bad , too bad ,-too bad of
My poor, g^od Terry , " °^ ^'' «eighbor's one ewre lamb
^. "i;!^wSj;S.rd%'c\t^^^^^^^^^^ tears.
him djshonorable. For her " conî '^'? ' " ^ "*^^^ '^ought
could hâve been worth one S.,„XST''^' ;; ^'^^ "^^^^
J hâve had a letter îxo^tI^T^^I^ Dennison."
„ / "" "'"' go, of course ?"
own." W^^ ^^^<^"°t> I am sure, potlt aU on ^S
SÉ^'-ÀW^Î-^l--*. s:A :'h>< ^<-\-; .^f^il7.t?a'^~^ »'- " -^ 1^'
4
'*^-v
o^.
r
>«'
.SA,,
^^ -Jf^ V- yi.
LIGHTLY WON, LIGHTLY LOST.
213
Not m fhe least on my own," France said, hoMing hef
ha^dsoiiie head high, her dark eyes still full of indignanffire.
But Terr>.loved ihis g.rl.and Terry-I must say it, though
I offend yow, Lady Dynçly-is worth two hutidred Erics.
Oh, it is a shajne— a shame 1 " f-
They met at dinner. Mfss forrester's greeting w«s of tbe^
coldest and most constrainei?. Eric was his own natural,
languid, charming self, at his best. His raothefs sad, pale
face he wauld not see, France's. flushed cheeks and angry
eyÇs he overtooked.
" It takes two to mak^ a row," Eric thought ; " you won't
niake a row with me." o » /
Once France spoke of Terry— her bright, angiy eyes
fixed upon his face, her own wearing a very resolute look.
Where was TenW How had he left him ? Where was he
gomg ? When did he fnean to return ? Eric bore it heroi-
cally. Y *-
" lo paean,
Terry 1 Terry l»
he laughed. « How you ring the changes )on that^tasM«&l
name., I don t know anything of Tèoy's tiutgoings and in*^
commgs. Am I nrty brother-s keeper? Your solicitude
dofs Mr. Dennison too much honor."
She turned from him. ~ ^
« He bas no heart,'.' she thought ; « no seflSe of remorse v
no fee ing for any human being but himself. I pity Mis?
Crj'stal Higgjns." ,,
The çycïïing brought Mr. Locksley, the artist.
V "So he cornes still," Eric thought, watching with sleepy,
half,closed eyes his mother and the artist playing chess.
while France sat at the piano and^ng softly. "I wonder
~I wonder if this is the secret Ofyôur queenly indifférence.
Miss Forrester, to me." ' v vc,
Next day Lady Dynely and her son departed. France
watched Kric out of sight with a smUe, thefag end pf an çAi
bajiM on h;r bps ; \
:>*?:
•• ' L«;htly woi^d lightly làst,
A tair good-night to tbee.' "
i^^0^l^,^ vf*^ ;^.
'^ '*^î*f r^.^
'^•^-V:-.-
• *
GHAPTER XIV.
" OKCK. MORE THE, GATE BEpiND ME FALLS."
N that pleasant upper room of Dvni>lv akk
apart as Mr. Lockslev's studio oS • ^ ^^}^y' ^*
to that artist anH 'K ^ ^ studio, ahd sacred wholly
day that took Lad^fe^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
He stood with folded arms ^« S^" *? Lmcolnshire.
gazing at his ownVork AàtjSt ^^«"««^'f"! look,
erect, the soldierly air thât toM «f f^ ^^^'^' ^*^"' ^trong,
nmnifest thab ever ** °^ ^'^ P^*' *=*"'"ig ^as moré'
4'ïorS:!ilsTwo%'o^^^^^^ ^han an ordi.
ney. It had been ITabor of'.f ï^ ^f Reynolds or Rom- '
in the work. and Ve rtu t1 ^ha^^^^^^^^^^ T' ï^' ^^-
hands seldom do. satbfied himself °'^' °^ "'*''"
•pression, He harcSûgÏÏÏ^^L^^^^^^^^^^^
«Parkleà-eyeand smil% thn^K Î7. ?''• .*^* mischievouj'^
gracefu. he/d! \"s' Z^^td^t^l^tr ^t^"''' °^ *l
UiS8om^^thoûghtsand3;daith^^^^^^ they understood
P~"d of £SffiyL^«'*u'=1. %rrester. Proud she îs,
^and the «fi^^liri'^t^"?^f **' "^« l^^hind h5
mission fprh.8 «iffe|ing, thTwouId^
ànd amaze
>A
M^"^
•V.
O^ 7!fi BEHlND ME FALLS.
2ïS;
JM!!r.*v" u J^^"" Partîng words. Ana yet I hâve
tiraft^that if she knew ail, thç^hole truth"— he paused
r?. wVir f **, turned impatiently »way tow^s the window.
What a fool \ ani," he muttered, half-aloud. " She loves
thathandsome dandy, of course— he is the sortof cilded foo
lIslThi"? "'"*'''' '''°^' °^' ^°"'^ ^ "^* '^^ '^'^ ^''^^^''
gardfeii, ail ablaze with gorgécAis Augufet flowers. It was
a çultry, overcast day— sunless, windless, gray. Early in the
moroing ^he sun had corne out with a dazzling briffhtness.
only to v«iish again and leave behind a low, leaden stv!
frowning yith drifting cloud. ^
Thè great house was very still. My lord and lady had
. gone; Miss Forrester's clear voice, and the light, îilken
rustle pf her garments were nowhere to be heard. She was'
not to sit to Mr. Locksley any more ; the last sitting had
been given a week ago, and though he still came daily it
was but to add thç few last finishing touches to his perfecfed
work. He dmed with.the two ladies at întervals, and spent
occasimal evenings at the Abbey when there were no other
visitoi^ From gênerai society he shrank; but he-never
refused my lad/s cordial invitations when she and her ward
were aloi)e. It might hâve been wiser if he had. Thev
were growing dangerously dear to him, thèse long tôte-Vtête
fv dJlf7" V'^.*'^^'^'' °^ Caryllyne ; perilousiy precious,
^llr t™ W''l?,*'*^^'"™'"8 °^^^ he/«.usic listening to
. 'î'^the old ballads she loved to sing, watchingthe white, flying
. fingers the tender, lovely, spirited fece-hW dear, hôw pr|
cious, he was findmg out now to his côst. -
He turned from the window and began pacing impatientlv
^ up and down the long, lofty room. ^n tpite of the widï
open wmd<Sw the atmosphère was almost painfully oppres-
sive So suUry, se airless was the leàden day, that i t was
Zl}\ ''\fT """^ ^^^^V**^ *»'**'*^«- The physical suffering
Wh.^^'^ rï^ ^^^ "^"^- ^* ï«>«^°èd the strip of black
nbbpn at his throat, as t h ough, even t ha t ^ufforat e d hin^
T^B^WlSHlgWleWtïi^^
had shut his eyes wlfuUy to his own danger; the moth\had
*~>.
\
î^
rL'-T *.^:'*^^; ^^ "«^«.^'Cvâ^t.'f-.' -^i'^Ç'""^,--^'^'!^
21
,r«ff (y^r^ BEHIND ME PALLS.
■ V:.
«een tfie lîghted candie, and intoxicated by itsj)rilliancy,
had stîll flo^9 headlong in. Was the moth to be pitied,
men, llet himi^inge bis wings ever so \badly ?
" I >ill go F' he said to himself, abruptly, " I will go to-
inoirqlw. Flikbt is one's only safegiiard in thèse things. If
I stay, if I seé any more of her I will commit the last crowfa-
, ing act of foUy, and tell her ail. My work is finished— there
IS no caupe to linger. Yes, I will go— I will start for Spaki
to-morrow, and explore it from the Escurial to the Alham-
bra, and in painting dark-eyed Morisco maidens and bull-
fights I will forget this summer's fooling."
He looked at his watch— two o'clock. Three was bis
dinner hour— it would tak'e hira the hour to walk to the
village. He made his headquajters at the "Kiddle-a-
wmk" in the village of Dynely,>nd slept in that upper
chamber wherein sixteen years before, one summer night,
.Alexis Dynely lay dying.
A^he passed out from the hduse into the sultry afternoon,
he. glanoe^ up at the sky. It was growing darker eveiy
instant — a faint, damp rairi was beginning to fall. It was
doubtful, good walker though he was, if he would outstrip
tlie storm and reach the inn before the summer rain fell.
He looked .around as he walked rapidly away, to catch a
glimpse ofa gauzy dress, to hear a girl's sweet voice sin^ng,
to see a graceful head bent over a book or a drawing. Miss
Forrester, however, was nowhere to be seen. It was a£ well
so, perhaps.
"I will call this evening and make my adieux to both ^
ladies," he thought, and, pûlling his bat over his eyes, strode
rapidly on his way.
Yes, he would leave England on the morrow — for good
and ail this tinie. Where was the use of coming back,
where the sight of the familiar places, the familiar faces that
knew him no more, brought nothing but pain ? He would
make Rome his headquarters for life, and give himself up
Mtterly to his art. A boy's mad folly, a wonian's base
deceit had wrecked his life sixteen years ago. He had been'
J h fnst^.QHt /rom hi 8 mother' s^ home and ho r^^»itk^
»nd bitter .words, his birthright given to a stranger. It
^ a*. * J K L* '' -v
■ ' ■ -Il m f ....
- ,-! ' . ••»,'(1,\ .?>''
TITE GATE BEHIND ME FALLS.
217
never ocçurred to hira to sue for commutation of that
sentence With the past he had nothing to do; he had
deserved his fate, he had disgraced his name; his niother
had done rightly; m the future the art he loved was ail he
had left him. He would start upon his Second exile to-mor-
'?\ 7JT Vv^ ^''^'■^ '^°"^'^ ^^ "° '°°''>»« back, this time
it should be life-long. To return to England meant return-
mgto see her the happy wife of Lord Dynely; to returiT
and sue for his mother-s favor, meant to oust her from her
fortune, to rake up ail the old dead-and-gone scandai to
bnng the shame from which that mother, the haughtiest
woman m Engl^nd, had iled sixteen-years before, back to
her m its first force. No, there was nothing for him but
silence and exile to the, end.
"Mr. Locksley?" -jv.
The clear sweet voicei made him toôi up from his hioodv
rêverie with a start. And then, like a vision, Franœ For-
rester's bnghtly smiling faCe, set io a ravishing bon-
net, beamed upon hmi. Miss Forrester, with a tiny groom
behmd her, drove a low, basket phaeton and a pair of
spankmg httle ponies. She drew up the ponies in dashine
style, and turned to the artist with that bewitching sraile o(
"Are you going home, Mr. Locksley— I mean to the inn ?
Pray don t go just yet. LeU me oflfer you this vacant seat
1 nave somethmg to say to you."
Was fotp pursuing him when he meant to fly from danger?
He took the seat beside her, and Miss Forrester with a
ahead Parasol-whip, sent the little steppers briskly
" I am alone to-day— do you know it? And as I didn't
cxpect even. your^society, Mr. Locksley-I came away.
r They left by the eîlVly train this raorning." '
«They— who?" ^
.u " ^u^y Dynely and Eric. Ôh, you don't know, then— I
thwght perhaps she had told you over your chessmen last
^^ng. Yes, they starte d for Linco lnshire this mnrning—
^^tâWgone a week at the leas't; and I am queen reg?nt
■lonarch of alft survey, until their return. The first W l
"^^
y^â
f^^Hmm^Mféi'''-'^^'3.
^^0^S!mssg^m^Mim»^ ^
■' ""l -. . ' ' ^
,..
2l8
r/œ C^r^ BEMIND ME FALLS.
make of iny liberty is to spend a whole long day at dear old
Caryllynne. It is not nearJy so ancient nor so stately as the
Abbey, but I love it a hundred times more. Hâve you ever
been there, Mr. Locksley ? "
She looked up at him, half wondering at the dark gravity
of bis face.
" I bave been there, Miss Forrester."
" Indeed ! Strange that Mrs. Matthews, the housekeeper,
told me nothing about it."
" I hâve not been in the house."
" Then you hâve missed an artistic treat. The CarylJ
picture gallery is the pride of the neighborhood ; there is
nothing like it in the whole, country. Mrs. Caryll, as I hâve
told you, is really a devotee of art, and always was. There
are Cuyp's, and Wouvefniain's, and Sir Joshua's portrait,*
and sunsets by Turner, and sunrises by Claude Lorraine, a
gallery of modem and a gallery of Venetian art. Oh, you
j-eally must see it, and at once. I shall drive you over and
play cicérone. Nothing I like so well as showing the dear,
romantic old Manor."
" You are most kind. Miss Forrester," he said, with a sort
of effort, "but it is quite impossible. I mean," seeing her
look of sjurprise, " that as I leave Devonshire to-morrow, I
will havej no time. Wandering artists don't Iceep valets, so
I must atoend to the packingo^y own portraanteau, and that,
with somè letters to write, will detain me until midnight."
He wai not looking at her, else he might hâve «een and
possiWy ùnderstood the swift, startled pallor that came over
her face. '
" You are going away ? " she said, slowly.
'* The portrait is finished, my work hère is done. I owe
Lady Dynely and you, Miss Forrester, many thanks for your
kind efforts to render my sojourn agreeable."
" If Lady Dynely were hère," Miss Forrester answered,
her color returning, and in her customary gay manner, " she
would say the thanks were due you, for helping to while '
away two poor women's long, duU evenings, Isrft it father
a P"y t o go before she retums } She wJU regret it cxtremely,
TTktiûw, " '~ .
J^i^S. i ^^\l^^ 4.1 ^^'i^^k^î-^.
:o-morrow, I
* -. ,'
'^^P^^^^^''.
7WB GAr£ BEHIND ME FALLS. 2IQ
"I/I had known of thîs sudden departure, l'would hâve
made my adieux to her ladyship last night. May I further
trespass on your great kindness, Miss Forrester, and charge
}0u with my farewell?" ^
She bent her head and set her Hpsa little as she eut the
ponies shaip y with her whip. It had corne «pon her almost
^ Éfe * -' ù-^'",?"^^" révélation, but her pride and thor-
• . ,0!^ traimng hid ail sign.
^^^lÂ!!^ T 'îH^gyPfies-ever on the wing-tliat I know
cj old. And\whuher do you go, Mr. Locksiey ? Baok to
?fXB?ompTo>' ^^'^ '""' "' ^'^ '"''^"'^ surround.ngs
" Farther stiU," he\id, with a smile ; " to Spain. I hâve
roamed almost over evVy quarter of the habitable globe in
my forty years of life, but Spain is stiU a terra incognita. I
hâve had an mtense désire ever since I gave myself ifp wholly
to art to make a walking tour over the country. One should
find a thousand subjects there for brush and pencil."
..ï?nPf "'" f *^e fepeated, mechanically ; "and then?"
WelMcanhardlysay. I shall dévote a year at least to
bpain, and then most probably I shall return to Rome and
make itmy headquarters for life."
oi^^*"! ^*5'/t^d silence. The ponies bowled swiftly
S ' T\ ^^^* '^1 ^° ^'^^ ^"'^^ '^^^ •«"g been passed.
NeiU^ernoticed ,t The thcnightful gravity had de^pened
on h;s face. Her hands grasped the reins tightly, her lips
were set ma certam ngid line. Her voice, when she spoke
again, had lost somewhat of its clear, vibrating ring
'You picture a very delightful future, Mr. Locksiey; I
alnaost envy you Oh, no need to look incredulous-the
Bohemian life is the freest, brightest, happieston earth, but it
nriSll •?«• ^.What I waylaid you for_to return to first
gardian, Mrs. Caryll, and she begs mé to sénd her a dupli-
cate of my portrait. She has one, but that was pain^ed fiv«
E ^u' *"4.I j'av.e been chanting the praises of your
^handi work until she is seized with l lon/ng for . .Ly
"Txm. natter 'm»'*!»! <>hapm;n,vT» -»- _..__*' w -. ." v*^
ih^ -°«^™f se diarmingly on canvas, Mr. Lock^
IhaXI rcally should hke to gratify her if it were possible tô
ri*/-
téeSj^^ <„
It^^bAK^w^^
/ m
220
THE GATE BEHIND ME FALlS.
procure her the copy. But I suppose ail that is out of thô
question now."
" Mrs. Caryll shall hâve the copy. I trust she is weli. I
saw her so often in Rome," he said, half apologetically.
"that I take an interest in her naturally."
"She is as well as she is ever likely to be," France an-
swered, rather sadly, "and so lonely without me that I think
of throwmg over everything and going back to join her. I
should infinitely prefer it, but she will not hear of it and
neither will Lady Dynely. I must remain, it seems, and run
the round of Vanity Fair whether I wish it or not. I ought
not to complam— I did enjoy last season. Come what will "
with a half laugh, " I hâve, been bleseed." '
" Mrs. Caryll has no intention then of returnine to
England?" *
She will never return. It is fuUofbitter associations for
her. It would break her heart to see poor old Caryllynne."
" She still takes her son' s wrongdoing so much to heart—
she is stiU so bitter against him ? Pardon me, Miss Forres-
ter, I ha^e heard that story, of course."
" There is no apology needed. You will wonder, perhaps
r T " i T y°"' y°" remind us ail of him. That is the secret
of Lady IDynely's interest in you from the first."
c ^'^^^î*^'"' Pfnetrating, hazel eyes were fixed fuU on his
lace. That tramed face never irfoved a muscle.
^ "As to being bitter against him," pursued France, "it is
just the reverse. It is remorse for her own cruelty that
dnves lier nearly to despair at times. For she was cruel to
him, poor fellow, when he came to her in his great trouble
and shame— most cruel, most unmotherly. He came to her
m his somow and humiliation, and she drove him from her with
bitter scorn and anger. That is the thought that blights her
Me, that has preyed upon her health, that makes the thought
of home horrible to her. She drove him from her into poverty
and exile hère, and hère ^h« will never return. A thousand
Urnes she has said to me, that, tô look upon his face once
more, to hold hun in her arms, to hear him sayhe forgave
her, die Would give up her vent l ife, give u p ail thi nga exc«tpt
à:---t-^
.>'{.*■..- %
\.
t is OUt of th«
■i i
> 1 j »
y
THE GATE BEHlND ME PÀLLS.
221
" She has said that ?"
She was too wrapped in her subject to heed his huskv
vojce to mark the change that had cime over his face ^
Again and agam. The hope of seeing him once more is
the sole hope that keeps her alive."
" She thinks that he is still living ?"
"She thinks it. Every year since that time. with the ex-
rCr'trbk'r 'f ' '^ ^^^ r^ ^^^ -»- r^membranc^r
tl l ^ î- .^^ ' ^ *^°'^'^'"' ^ to'^e" of som^sort to let her
know he st.ll e>«sts. Those tokens hâve corne to her from
every quarter of the globe. India, Africa. America? and aU
coimtnes of Europe. There is never an ad^Ss-merelv
the post-mark to dénote whence they came, andïfs name n
hjs own fam.har hand. Ah ! ifwe but knew where o Cîfôr
him-svhere to find hiu,. I ,believe I would trlve Ithe widé
car h over , fat the end I could find Gordon Caryll."
u ^T ^^'■'■^s*^'" J yo" would do this ? "
A hundred tmies more than this ! He was my hero Mr '
Locksley, as far back as I can remember. There is no one
in ail the world, I long so to see." '
" A.id yet the day that finds him robs you of a fortune "
eye^ai°excl5''/'K'"' indignantly. in.petuous tears in her
tha?h?h:?evt tt he"."''" '"^' ^'^^^'' "''^^ •^-"^'^"^
thânlhat'?"" Oh I ^K .^°*'''?/^' ^? y°" ^''•"'^ "° be«er of me
than that ? Oh J what would a million fortunes be to the joy
of seemg him once more_of restoring him to his motî.eH
otîS?^^T"r ;V"^'."^'"^-°"'^ ^^'^ in%rust. One diy o
shaSUItis o^ :2ai?.'?^' ^'' -^-"' -^ ^«^^ ' ^^e \^,
Sou^h «h. i^'u^ T'^ *'^^" '"^^"«« admiration surely,
though she read that there plainly enough. It brouirht he^
down from her heroics. from doudland to farth, f onTromLce
4'
X
J;.r
'â,mÉè^^éM.
-+.
222
r/œ 'GATE BEHIND ME FALLS.
He touchedtlie reins lightly with bis hsfnd, andchecked her
m tne act pf turning. *
"Excuse me, Miss Forrdsterj I hâve changed my mind
r?sist no longer. . Smce you are so kind as to be niy
' Sîture " ^ ^ ^° '""'^ ^°" *° Carryllynne and see the
Slie looked ^t him again— rather haughtily it seenied. '
You are-quite sure it is your wish, Mr. Locksley, and not
a matter of pohteness ? You are qaite sure it wiU not incon-
venienceyouatall?" y^y-^^iy-yj»
" Quite sure, Migs Forrester. I wish to go "
She turned without a w^rd and drove on. The distance
was Short. In a -few minufes the great Manôr gâtes
lîorn/T ?'^"^°n^'^" instant too soon. The summer
storm, threatenmg ail day, was upon them at last. As thev
passed beneath the lofty arch of masonfy^ two great drops
splashed upon their faces. ' ^ ^
They sped up the avenue, beneath the dark waving trees,
at iill speed. A groom came out to take the horses TwJ
or three old servants, on board wages, still kept up the place,
^ot an instant too soon ; the ratn was beginning to fail
dl?k'i!r*'' * ^^^ ^""^ ''^^^"^ Ii|ïtnin|cut the
«nH K "7kI ''""■^ ' " ""^^ ^^'^ Forrester's cry, as, laughing
and breathless, she ran up the steps. " Welcome to Cary?
lynne, Mr. Locksley!" "v-«tryi
He retuoved his hat with a certain révérence, as thougli^
r.J l"',^*'^"'■*'''' ^^°*'°" «" '^is face shecould i£t
o«!r' I,? J^î ""^^ '"*° ^^^ ^as' tJ'ed haU, the black
and white marble floormg covered with skins of wild beasts.
Mrs. Mathews, the housAeeper, came forwjrdto receive
ner young lady. / ^
" We hâve corne to see the pictures, Mrs. Mathews." ''
lundi Th^U M '';'"^^ "'"'* ^'^ y°" *° ^ive us somc
S 1" ^'■- ï-ocksley, and as Mr. Locksley has not
dined, pray feive us something that will serve as a substitute."
fteie. She bowed deferentially, her eyc» fixed upon Mr.
:hecked her
d ray mind
i to be nry
ind see the
emed.
ey, and not
1 not incon-
r^E GATE BEkiND ME FALLS,
223
. V
Ix>cksley with a cunously intense gaze. As she turned awav
6he met her daughter, also domesticated hère
" Who is it mother ? " thç girl asked. " Wlio is the gen-
tleman? Lord Dynely— Mr. Dennison ? "
"Neither," her mother answered. "His name is Mr.
I^cksley; and if eyer 1 saw one Uian's eyes in anothei
mans head, he has the eyéa of Mr. Gordon CaiylL"
« «'■ ■
le distance
inor gâtes
e summer
As they
;reat drops
ving trees,
>es. Two
the place,
ng to fall
t}g eut the
, laughing
! to Caryl-
is though^
:ould not
the black
d beasts.
o receive
[athews,"
tu-bound
us some
V has not
bitit ute."
sekêeper-
pon Mr.
Mi
-X
'^
■ tti!^.*^ .li'-r
P* -r^
CHAPTER XV.
" STAY."
gtesses and «ower^ heedki of hoî ^JP ^ "" '""' ^""l
was i V enlirely ow o? her^art t ^hI°T'''"' ''?"!'''
She Jrould put off aU thoV.lL'^if t . '''*'"* "^ ''"«•
Car^irs teiS ha^ pùcedrèm ll'="'^'"'=--'' '»" " «"•
fashioned, and quaintrand A„^r .„j <-.j.r 7."""S
„godern n^»
o.d.fa^io„^d^,^iiJ^^^ve5j«.,„g
^•«^^ot^ieBdor anywhefê,Tâne yet iwice a»
\
*C'»
r
"^•TWK.'»
225
the Abbey. Everylh.ng is jiiSt as it was left when she
went away-this room and hef roo^j. In Gordon'" too
poor fellow, nothmg has been changed " '
Mr. Locksley looked at her-a curious smile on his face
^l^iJS^f.^^Pr^^s^on in his eyes, half cynical, half sad '
What an interest you seem to take in Gordon CarvOl
Miss Forrester-this black sheep of a spotless flock this S
scapegoat ff an irreproachable' family!^ Was he worlhy ol
T 'Ti°'* T''^ ^^ 'î' ^ ^^ ^"^«- ^e was unfortunate Mr
Locksley ; he rumed himself for a woman's sake I A no;
a common act of folly-nien don't do that nowldavs.
tX'lT y';^ '^ °' "• ^ '^^"^ ï shoufd like them' a
httle better if they were. There's a sort of her6ism after
ail about a man who deliberately throws up ail hi^^^^
pects in hfe for a woman." ? ^ P'^*'^"
h^v^^*^ ^°"?-^"' ''^'■°'''"' ^'5^ Forrester, it seemâ to
arkeroVndhfn'T- ""^ *°"^ ^ '^^P •" ^he dar^anS
«iThîc^i f t ^/"'"^^^"^ a quagmire of disgrâce, from which
ail his hfe long he can never arise. What l pretty garden »
down 'Thf ri 1, °"' °' ^î^ "'"^^"^ ^"^ stoXSg
down. Jhe Caryliynne gardens edvered in ail some half-
dozen acres, utterly neglected of late years, and Tunnfng
wiH a very wilderness of moss-grown paths, tangled rose!
and honeysuckles. clematis a?d syringa, fallen statuel
empty marble basins, where fountains^nce had been
?u;^:;.:^irht^^^^^ -"''^ --^^^^^ -^^ -^ -^ p^arof
«irTs'ïkin^o'ff' ^^^'y*^^^^'" F-^ance said, with a sigh.
it is plam to be seen no master's eye ever rests hère
tit dC'o? rh°^ Caryliynne, years ago, if r. LocklJy, weS
the glory of the place. This was Mrs. Caryll's • it has never
been kept up since she went away." ^ ' ^^'
u M L^^"' Miss Forrester, I should think that— "
nnrnl n S ', f'I ^^ changed^nothing altered by me. As
Je^^iti:ai.4 left, ^ he shall find it^eirftêcôiS^Wct^—
You are so sure he will corne back, then "
i.
" As gure as that I
stand hère. I don't tnow why, but
"^''fel*'
7^ T'-f^
~^
226
"STAY.'*
« A^^'u^'"*" ^ ^^'''^ ''"°'^" ^hat be will corne back »
mothir hap^;?""" ""' "^"^ ""«^^ ^°"---»y --''- his
pierthan any hmg," she paused a moinent and her color
.*^^ • ''^^ happier than anything on earth."
fïapoy man. You bave nevêr seen hini— this fomotten exile
m WKom you take so deep an jnterest ?" '°'S°"^'' ""«
eJIr iL K°^ ^"" ^'■°'" "y ^^'■"««^ childhood/and when-
everand wherever we meet I shall know him.» ., *
" I thmk that, Mr. Locksïey." - '
tolë«hW^ wi» hâve changed-sixteen years and moVe îs a
îo înf ! r!* ^°' ^î'' Forrester, you might meet him face
Til ;S /° K^ t^"'»^ hands, and still be as strangers
around tbe world, leading the sort of Jife he bas led. l
free companion a solder of fortune, will change any mân
M.SS ton-ester, believe me, wben you meet, if ever you do
meet, you will not know Gordon Caryll " J' iiu
«oSv ^T^"* ^•^^"P''^- . '^^^ ^^'■^' Penetrating eyes were
watchmg bim ^ith a suspicious intentness he did not care to
^T.rïr^°° ^°K«^' 'î.^"*^'^ *^«"* the same time, or
d^n C^I?? »°''°'' ^ '"^"^ '"'• ^'^ ^"^ ^^^^ °^«^t Gor.
suence — then once more be laugbed.
"You are a sorceress, Miss Forrester. What hâve I
saidtdmakeyoutbinkso?" "« nave i
==^ou bayé said nothing; And y«--Mr. Lootaé^r, F^^SiT"
know anything tell me. I would give half «.y £ to know!"
W^, ■•>
^l^t.
■%¥'
> .ifl;,' 'T ■■ - ■"
f*t^
•■'^■■-.■..-■■.*^*
4
"SrAK"
V
217
"Jnlndia?''sheasked.
maVv"oi".ïiJ. ""h^ "'"'' '^^' ^'J"*^«^ '"^y l'^ve t>«n the
»^, . ' ?. f. ■'^"" yet I know from certain thirwsi»*.
told me of his h,story that he was the nian." ^
to England-of his semence of omlawn. an ™^e I kLow
be bo„ed his hcad and aSp.ed L dôor î^ïaVd" *oV
than4n,n/ H I i^^^* "^^*s "^ofe sinned affainst
'^^::Zs. tx" ^h'a^rd-rwS1;^'«■;'''''
^n.sTS.ntah^afh'"''""'"'":,'" "■' "^"blt'nd be
.h. o-ÏTbapMja'rKfoT^^^
ment, to receive and forgive him Jlin nh M^rf,^'
•i
.ff
Stt'^r >1.j3*^* •"
<^-
"f--
'■"^'SSl — — ' —
'fi'
^^Î^?*I
3i28
e*--^.
i^^ '
-f'
" He will rob you-of a noble inheritance. Hâve yon any
right to throw it away ? What will Lord Dynel / s^ to
that?" ^ ■ ^
" Lord Dynely ! " She lôoked at him in ar^y surprise.
" What bas Lord Dynely to do with this I "
" Much, since he bas to do with ydu. The day that rè.
stores Gordop Caryll to bis mother, robs you of half your
fortune."
" You spoke of tbat bçfore, Mr. Locksley. Never speak
of il again.> What are a thousand fortunes cômpared to the
right ? — to seeing ber, my best and dearest friend, hapi>y,
and him restored from wandering and exile "to his own ?"
" And as Lady Dynely you can afTord to^be inagnanimous
— ^a^ fortune more or lesscan concern you li^tlé."
She looked at him still haughtily, but with a heart begin-
ning to beat fast. If he cared nothing for her, why this bitter
tone, this pale, stem face ?
*• As Lady Dynely. There is some mistake hère, Mr.
Locksley. I don't know what you mean."
*• I beg your pardon, Miss Forrester. lé îs presumptuous,
no doubt, in me to allude to it, \?ut as your engageaient to
Lord Dynely is no secret, J may — "
' "My engagement to Lord Dynely! Who says I am en-"
gaged to Lord Dynely? I am nothing of the sort. Lord
Dynely if engaged to' a clergyman's daughter in Lincoln-
sbire."
He stoç^ still, looking at her, his'head in a whirl, wonder,
incredulity, bl^nk aiiiaze in bis face.
" There wa^- some sort of fooHsb compact between Mrs.
Caryll and Lady Dynely," proceeded Miss Forrester, "to*
marry ^s when we grew up— a compact in which I hâve had
no part — and which we never c^ould ratify. Eric and I bave
grown ùp as brother and sister-^more thân we are now we
never will or could be to each other. With the or(^ering of
vny life or fortune, Ag, at least, Has nothing to do."
Thefe was a moment's pause — a most awkward and un-
comfortàble pa^se for Miss^Forrester. Mr. Locksley stood
rsfiU, :|o petrîfiéd by tbis fudden révélation that îi» T»nr
breoith seemed take'n away.
A<:iaW ''' '■
' V'
\» , .i^ ■*) V^ i^ ■!
*/srAY:' ,
22Q
|«I,tho«g(ht — I thougbt," hc said, "you love4 him."
She madê nô answer.
" I thoûght ypu^oved him," he went on. •* I thoiight ypu
were eijgaged fo hiip. And last night, When he returned^ I
fancied I read new happinesà in your fate — that his coming
had brought it; and it was more than I could bear. I had
donè with loving — or so I thought — donc with women for-
ever^ and yet l accepted Lady Dynely's jnvitation and-
came down hère. And I thought you were'to be his wife,
that ail your heart was his, and I—" ' _
"Resolved to run away to Sp|iin, and in painting dark-
eyed Spanish donnas, forget Frante Forrester,'^.
She laughed as slie spoke. Her dark ^Cc i*iras flushëd,
but the old, gay, mischief-lôvrng spirit was bàck. She could
not look at her lover, but she could laugh at hîm.
" Yes," he said, moodlly,-*''there ar^ some dangers from
which flight is the only safeguard. You, a ieealthy heiress
te your first youth — I; a man of forty, poor, unknown, an
artist whose brush brings him the bread he éats. You can-
not realize more fuUy than I do, how iiisane my love for
. you is."
" Hâve I said it \ias ins?ine ?"
" France 1 " he cried.
She did not speak.
" France," he cried again, " can it be possible that you
care for me t Speak my fate in one word — shall it be go, ai
stay?"
She tumed toward him, the dark eyea fuU of radiant lig^t,
and answered : "^ ^
"SUyl"
*i> ,.
-,■•*•
-V' '
■1
■^
1
CHAPTER XVI.
asks.
** GORDON CARYLL."
IF,N mûintes hâve passed. Ail that it is necessary
to say bas been said ; the first dclirium is over, and
rçason hàs resutned her sway.
" B-it what wiir Lady Dynely say ? " Locksley
" How am I to go and tell her that the impecunioiis
artist whôm she brought down hère, to paint her ward's pic-
ture, has had the presumption to fall in love with bis sitter,
and déclare that presumptùous passion? And what will
your guardian in Rome say-:;Mrs. Caryll ? "
" I don't know that it matt^rs very greatly what they say,"
France laughs. " Mrs. Caryll I should like to please çer-
tainly, but Since I am not to marry Lord Dynely, I do not
think her objections will be very^iflScult to overcome. For
Lady Dynely, I am under her care for the présent, but to
control my actions in any way she has no right whatçver. I
shall be of âge in two years, and then " — she looks up into
the cager face above her, still laughing— " and then, so you
are pleased, it won't matter very greatly what ail the world
together says."
^That means you will bewife. France— am I to bclievc
it— that one day I may claim you as iny own ? "
" If you care to hâve me. . And, meantime, I suppose
you will gtve iip your idea of rushing out of the world, and
remaiii hère like a reasonable mortal, and paint that dupli-
cate picture for dear old grandmamma Caryll."
"I will do anything you say— I will paint a thousand
duphcates— I will stay hère and face an army of guardians
Hf n ecessary, and be branded as a fortu ne-htintpr, «n adygifc
Tûrer.
me to be."
For a fortune-huntèr; they will call me, and believe
M. -' ,
H.^-
■•PI
-^-..^A
** GORDON CHRYtL»
23li
"Not|n my présence, at least," France answers; "no
one, not qihose I hold nearest and dearest, shall speak ill of
you and remain my friend. And siieaking of fortune, I hope
you hâve no objection to my rest(mng to Gordon Câryll,
should he at any time retum, ail the inheritance his mothei
bequeathes me. I hold it in trust ; and let him appear Xfy^
morrow, or thîrty years from now, I will still retum it."
Locksley«Iaughed.
"I objectl Not likely! Still— I hope- he will not
come !"
"Mr. Locksley!" \
"I décline to answer to tbat naine any longer to you.
I hav^ another, though the idea does not seem to hâve
occurred to you."
" What is it ? I bave seen G. Locksley at the boUom of
your pictures. Whatisit? George? Godfrey? GeoflFry?
What?
" None of thèse — my name is "
The dark, luminous eyes were lifted to his face.
"Is— well?"
" My name is Gordon." .
" Gordon ! "a startled expression càùne over her face for a
moment — her eagerly wistful eyes looked at him. !But he
met her gaze with bis euriously imperturbable smile.
" It is a favorite cognomen of yours, I know. There are
other Gordons in the world beside Gordon <^ryll, who as I
. aaid before, I hope will never return."
"Andwhy?"
" Because I am mortally jealous of him. He bas alway»
been your hero, by your own showing — is so still — and I
feel in the depths of my prophétie soûl tbat he is destined to
be m^ rival. If ît were not for that^ I might be tempted to — "
a sraile and a provoking pause.
** Well, to what ? " she cries with tbat pretty imperiousnes»
of mannçr tbat was one of her chief charms.
" Tofind hiua for you. ït ought not to be an ïmpqgsible
task. i- thiffk 1 cçirld accomplishi^if i"were"quite^
your hero of the past wo»ld sot beônne yoiùr idol of the
future. To bring him hère with a halo of romance envelop»
"7^
\^ '
0iigàSeiiie»»mm>'^
; ;V lij .^ -r.-^^v^^TCV <^*lv^<
' P
1^
¥
f7=r
232
**^GOJlDOAr CARYLLr
ing him would be a dangerous éxperiment. I had niade up n«
mmd to go and surrender you to Lord Dynely ; to surrendet
you now to Mr. Gordon Caryll-no, I am only human-I
could not do that. Lord Dynely would be a dangerous rival
tor any man hvmg, with the youtb and the beauty of a Greek
god ; but Gordon Caiyll must be old and as battered as ray.
self. To be ousted by him "
He paused; she had clasped her hands, her lips were
apart, her eyes were dilated. -. f c
"Mr. Locksley— " *1 >
• "Gordon—Gordon—I tcJd you my name.'»^::^
him p^? ' ^'^«'ï-^oyou think— ^you think you can find
"Caryll? Why, yes. I can try at least. Idaresayheis
as anxious to return as you are to hâve him back. OnlV tell
nie, France, that-when he is found he wiU never corne be-
tween you and me ?"
She looks at him, an indignant flash in her eyes— an indig-
nant flush on her cheeks. ^
.K *!^^i^t^'i Gordon Caryll nor any man on earth can do
Jhat. I bjelong to you. Only I want him back for his own
sake, for his mother^s, for mine. He has suffered enough.
, been m exile long enough, for what at no time was his fault
but his misfortune. Fetch him back, if you can-it is ali
that is needed to complète my perfect happiness now."
Ihe name of her lover does not corne fluently from her
Z^t ,"^7^°"-\/'ï^"oddcoincidence,she thinks,
that he should resemble the exiled heir of Caryllynne, and
bear the same name. Some dim, vague suspi^in is begin-
nmg to creep over her. some shadow of suspicion rather : for
w yet, the truth is too wildly unreal and improbable to bê
h^nl °-ii .^i*" ^""Vl "ÎP'^ °^ ^"*°° Caryll, she thinks,
than he w.U tell, and the dark eyes look up at him wistfully
s«archmgly Son.eth.ng in Ix>cksley'8 faci makes her think
fZ r ^?J <l«tasteful to him. He stands there understand- '
.^f, îri T"^'*'^i.*°*^ï'"'' * half-repressed smile on his^
longer t h ft haM ghty,h.ghb i toh e iw ww^^^^u ^
^^.
'J*i
4^
**GORDOlf CARYLL.»
233
scure» penniless artist, and soldier of fortune. It is his to
rule, Iters to obey.
« What a wretched expression of countenance. Miss For*
'j^fé*"»'! '^^ said laughing. "Areyou regretting y^ur hasty
a^jfllssion of five minute» ago ? Are you sorry already you
t^e me stay ? If so— "
Her clasped hands tighten on his arm. Soiry she badé
hini stay I Her radiant eyes answer that. '
" Then it is solely on Gordon Caryll's acçount. Be at
peace, my France, ask no questions ; we will talk of our-
selves, not of him. Only be sure of this— he shall return .
to his home, to his mother, and to you." •
She lays. her happy f^ce against his shoulder in éloquent
^ silence. So they stand— looking out ç^ the leaden summer
Ijiaftemoon, listening to the soft, dark rush of the sûramer r?in.
«HowwiUwe getback to Dynely Abbey if this lasts?"
France says at last
"It is not going to last," Mr. Locksley answers ; "it is
hghting already in the west yonder. In two hours froni
now, ma belle, you will drive me back to the village through
a perfect blaze. of sunset glory. Meantime we hâve the
house to see, luncheon to eat, and, by the same token, I
wish your old lady would hurry. It may seem unromantic,
' Miss Forrester, but "
" You hâve had lio dinner and are famished," laughs
France. " Hère cornes Mrs. Mathews now, to announce
that our banquet is ready."
Mrs. Mathews enters, unutterably respectable to look at,
in her stiflf, black silk, and widow's cap. Yes, luncheon is
ready, and as Mrs. Ijilathews makes the announcement, she
gazes with strange intensity into the face of the tall, bearded
«ranger. She remembers her young master as though she
hj^d seen him but yesterday, and how like this gentleman is
to hini none but Mrs. Mathews can realize. His eyes, his
expression, the very trick of manner with which he shakes
back his thick brown hair. Her master retumed 1 It can-
not be, eUe surely Miss France must kno w it ; and yet—
*nd. yêr— the facrage-keeper*s eyes foUowed hiin as oné""
fiucinated.
1.' 1
Z-
h.
-'<;*»■
i r.
ïfe'
5-^.-<
ft--
Il '
234
" GORDON CAR YLL.**
She wails upon theni. It is a very merry lit tle repast
In spite of love's delirium they both enjoy tbe créature corn-
forts provided. Mr. Locksley is really hungry— does the
grande passion ever impair a healthy man's appetit'e ? It
does France good to seç him eat. And then, luncheon
over, they saunter away to look at the rooms.
l.ocksley's prédiction concerning the weather is already
beginning to be fulfilled. The afternoôn has lighted up
once more — the siin, behind its veil of clouds still, will be
oqt in full splendor presently ; the rain falls, but gently.
The swift Aiigust stonn is speht
" We shall hâve a delicious drive home," France says,^ as
they wander through long suites of rooms, drawing-rooms,
library, and picture-gallery. " What an eventful day this
has been. How littie I thought, when I started forth 'fetter-
less and free' this momteg, that I should wear captive chains
before night ; I ara jglad Lady Dynely is awa^ — she would
be certain to read ftllmy wrongdoing in ray guilty face upon
my return, and to sit down and tell her in cold blood so
soon, I GovM not. It would seem a sort of. desecration."
You are sure you will never repent ? " Locksley asks, un-
easily. " You hâve made but a misérable bargain, France.
With your youth and beauty, your birlh and fortune, the
offers you refused in the season, to.end at laât with a free
lance, an obscure artist, whose youth is passcd, who can give
you nothing but an unknown name, and a heart that you
took captive at sight, in return. My darling, th« world will
tell you, and tell you truly, ycwi hâve made but a sorry
bargain."
•The world will never tell it to me twice. Why do we^
talk of it ? 1 love you ; with you I am happy — without you
I am misérable— ail is said in that"
There is silence for a time. They look at the pictured
faces of dead-and-gone Caiylls, and da abt secthem. At
last—
"And $0 yott take me blindfolded ? " Locksley says.
'« Yoii ask nothing of the forty yeara tha t lie behind me?
m
You give ipe yourself, wîthout oné qoèiSon of whaï roy We
has been ? How are you to tell I am worthy of the gift ? "
#
,ms ,m t m m
WfW^S^^^^^f"-^^^
f'zw*-
** GORDON CARYLL."
2^1
\
She looks at hîm and her ha^ipy face pales suddenly. Ali
at once there returns to her the memory oî Eric's words,
the tiiemory of that hinted at, hidden away, •• obnoxious
wife." • .•
" I hâve a story to teH yoii," he says in answer to thaï
startled look ; "you shall hear it before we quit this hou^o
— you shall know ail my life as I know it myself. Hôw
many more rooms ha\re we to ste? Whose is this?"
*' It is^it was— GordQp CaryU's."
They pause on the threshold. The sun has conie from
behind the clouds and fills the rooni with its slanting, amber
glory. , The rain has entirely ceaSed — a rainbow spans the
arch of blue sky they can see froi^ the tall window. /
" Nothing has been altered," FVance says softly ; "every-
thing is as he left it. Books, pictures, pipes, whips, guns,
— ail!"
They enter. What a strange expression Locksle/s face
wears, the girl thinks, as he looks around. She does not
understand, and yet those vague, ihapeless suspicions are
floating in her mind. They touch nothing — they stand ta-
gether and look," and the yellow sunshine gilds ail. The
books in their cases, the handsomely framed proof engrav-
ings of dogs and horses, the pijîes bf ail nations, the side-
arms of ail countries — dirks, cimetars, swords, bowie knives,,
the gaudy robe de chambre, now faded and dini, thrown over
a chair back — ail as Gordon Caryil had left them.
They quit this room presently and enter the next. It
was Mrs. Caryil' s^ sitting-room, in those long gone days, the
rooni in which, as the twilight of another August day fell,
she stood and banished her only son from her side forever.
Th(f bright yelloiv sunshine floods ail things hère too ;
the chair in which she used to sit, the work-table and
work-box upon it, her piano in the corner, the velvet
draperied oratory beyond ; and over the chimney, one
picture with its face tùrfied to the wall. "It is a por-
trait of Gordon paryll," France says, almost in a whisper,
^fer^methingnr her cotnpanion's^ace s tart les h » s tr angdy y^^
"she placed it so on that last cruel eveningjvhen she drove
hira from her. |^ it has hung since."
i- ai* j
„ ■■}■ A. ;ï, >:
fci%/L' -*v
s.
. t
\ *'>'"' s»'s'-r-.
236
.^ ** GORDON CARYLL."
"Turn it," LWksley commands briefly^ and she obeys.
She stands upon a chair and turns the pictured face to the
light. It is cover<^d with dust. Spiders hâve woven their
webs across it. Shfe fanées around for a cloth, finds one,
wipes- dust andcobw^bs together oÉF, and the boyish face oJ
the last Squire of Caiyllynne srailes back upon her in the
sunshine. " \
" Was he not handsoiV ? " she asks, regretfuUy. " Poor
Gordon ! brave and genekpus and beloved of ail— to think
he should pay for one mis1;ake by life-long exile and lo'neli-
ness." \
She looks down at her Idyer. She pa;ises suddenly ; a
wild expression cornes over hfer face. She springs froip her
perch and glances from the piûtured face of the boy to the
living face of the man gazing gr^vely up.
She sees at last— neither years,\nor bronze, nor beârd can
deceive her longer. She gives a littte cry, and stands breath-
less, her hands claspéd, her color coping and going.
He sees he is" known, and turnsX to her with the very
smile the pictured face wears- \
"My France," he
Gordon Caiyll"
says, "you knoV at last.that I am
Br
ft' f-
I •
.^'i";. *"''î ^'Z"*'**^
CHAPTER XVII.
THROUGH THE SUNSET.
î^ i
^M
O! The trnth is out at last — the désire of her life
is gained. Gordon Caryll stands there before her
— ^her lover J ^ ' . ,
She hardly knows whetber she is glad or so.'ry,
she hardly knows even whether s6e is surprised. She hah
turned quite white, and stands looking at hiin in a silence
she is unable to break. * ^^ <
Gordon Caryll laughs — the most geniallytitRiused laugh
she has heard yet.
" If I had said, ' F am his Satanic Majesty, horns, hoofs
and ail,' you could hardjy look more petrified, more wildly
inçredulous. My dear child, do coirfe out of that trance
of horror and say something."
He takes both her hands, and looks smilingly down into
her pale, startled face.
" Look at me, France — ^look at that picture. Don'/ you
see the resemblance ? Surely "you don't doubt what I hâve
said?" - - • ^^ ■
" Doubt you ! Oh, Gordon ! wA/^f a surprise this is. And
yet — I don't know— I dôn't really know — 'As in a glass,
darkly,' I believe I niust hâve seen itfrom the first."
" And you are sorry or glad — which ? You told me that
the désire of your heart was Gordon Ca^yll's return; Gordon
Caryll stands before you — your.heart|s désire is gained, and
you look at me with the blankest facel ever saw youwear*
Are you sorry, then, after ail ?"
" Sorry 1 A"h, you know better than that. Why," with a
*gl^f ^**WTomance of my Hfe was thatGordon Caryll would
retum, and that I should be the one to console hiui for the
^M'-M
■' >
5-
\
'i-
^^
238
THROUGH THE SUITSBT,
buter past— that I should one day be his wife/ And to think
— that my dream should come true» Yet still "
« Well— yet still."
"Yet still— more or less it is a disappointment. I had
hoped to be the good genius of your life in ail things— that
iny fortune would be your stepping stone to famé. NoW I can
do nothmg; I am not going to marry a stniggling artist and
help him wm lus laurel crown. The heir of Caryllynne need
owe nothmg to his wife. My romance of love in a cotta-^e,
while you won a nameamong the immortals, is at an end?"'
" Not so. After ail it wjll be due to you the same— J
take Caryllynne from you, And I would never hâve taken
off ^y. mask, and shown myself to the world as I am. but
for you." ,
•" Not even for your mother's ^^ke ?"
"N6t even for my mother's sake. How, but for you
would I ever hâve known that my molher desired it, that I
was forgiven, that she longed to take me back ? It makes
me happier than I can say now that I know it ; but of my-
self I never >vo«)d hâve discovered it.» VVhat was donc, was
done; I meant to hâve walked on the way I had chosen
to the end. :^ut you appeared, and lo ! ail things chanaed.'
"It IS hke a fairy taie," she said ; "I cannot realize it.
Oh ! what wiU Lady Dynely, what will Eric, what will youi"^
mother, what will ail the world say?" '
"I don't think it will surprise Lady Dynely very greaily '
Caryll answered coolly. " Shç recognized me the first day
— -I saw it in her face— only she took pains to convince her-
self it was an impossibility. I had been gone so long it was
impossible I could ever come back ; that was how she rea-
soned. For Eric, well it would be dead against every rule of
his creed to be surprised at anything. He will open those
sleepy blue eyes of his for a second or two, and lift his blond-î
eyebrows to the roots of his hair."
" Very likely," says France -^ " he has not far to lift them."
" I wonder you did not marry him, France. He's'a hand-
«ome fellow, and a gallant. As linlike a battered old soldier
^- I-a» «a---ft»^he Apollo is nnlikrïfiê Fârnesè HëS
cules."
W^^H^^^^AV
. 'r
\ 'ç^g^?'W■'5V' •
TttROVGH THE ^VNSET.
7 • -^
239
»k« r^^îu «^ ''"■^ ™^"y P^^'P^^' of undoubted taste too,
whopreferthe Hercules as thetruetypç of manliness to thé
Apollo Eric is very handsome— abstirdly handsome for a
man ; the wife ofa demi-god must hâve rather a trying time of
it. I dbn t care, besides, to share a heart that some scores of
women, dark and\ight. hâve shared b^ore me. 'AU or
néne, is the mottoW the Forresters. Are you sure, sir. r
mayclaim ail m the présent case?"
" Ail— every infinitésimal atom. I offer you a heart that'
thL » H ^""f '^''^'l*^^" ye*s has had no lodger. Before
that, he drew a deep breath and looked al her. " You
know that story." ««* "ci. xou
!! aÏ"' }a ''t"°'* "-Lady Dynely told me. She is dead ? "
dead!^"* ^""^^ ""^ '''°''^" ^° ^°" ^'^'^^ ^^?' «h^ '»
• He dropped her hands suddenly and walked over to the
wimlow. Beyond the green hiU tops the sun was dropping
nt« the sea— the whole western sky was aflush. The spark^
ling drops, ghttenng like diamonds on roses and verbenas
were alL that remained of the past storm
She stood where he had left her, looking after him wistfully,
wifh soraethmg that was almost a contraction of the heart. .
««r^;^'" Tv" ^f ''^^^ P^'"^^'" «'^^ thought, "smce they
hke this?" ^^'^ niemory of that time still affect him
She remembered the story LadTfiJildThad told her-of
how passionately he had lov.vl that most worthless wife.
Could any man love hke that twice in alifetime. The wine
left for her ^^^"^ *° ^^^' ^^^ actress- the lees were
" France 1"
thv^n J.!f ^/-^'f ^^^^ '". *u° »nstant-ashamed of that unwor.
trty spasm of jealousy of the dead.
tK-'ic'" ' ï ^t^\ ^^^ ^^y ^' erablematic of my life ? HaVe
n K?M*" ^ darkness passed forever, and wiU the end be
==SSrlS?^- * ^^P^^^^^'^^l»^^ but the dkrk^fst^
accord v<«i know. Th#» cf^r» «r ♦k- 1 ' t • . .
JK»i^<mkpow The story of thel^^an I married and
wno was iny rum.'*
' ^y
i'>»is#**frt».i.^*i».''t r
,jH*f r^"-"-—
r'y» i )j'i »> T .i i M
r^7'„'; 'if
240
THROVGH THE SUNSET.
l p-
1 i.
She glanced ur with that new-born shyness of hers into his
• overcast face in silence. '
" Let me tell yoii ail to-day, and make an end of it," he
said. " It is something I hâte to speak of— hâte with ail my
soûl to think cf. You know the story — Lady Dynely has
/ told you, you say. You know then how I was divorced,
how our united names rihig the changes through England
and Canada; how the name of Caryll, never dishon-
ored before, was dragged through the mire of a divorce
court. O^ou know how I came to England and saw my
mother and Lucia. Saw Lady Dynely, told her ail, and
bade her goî)d-by upon th^t other August night nineteen
years ago— the very night her husband died. AU that you
know?"
" Yes, I know," she said. " Go on."
"I had left my old régiment and exchanged into one
ordered to India, and in India the next twèlve years were
spent. It was hot and exciting work at first ; lutle time to
think, little time to regret. The horrible mutiny, of which
you hâve heard, with whose .bloody and sickening détails ail
England was ringing then, when women and chiWren were
butchered in cold blood, was at its height. Who could stop
and think of private woes when the whole British heart was
wrung with agony. It was the best discipline that could
possibly hâve befallen me— for my life I was reckless, the
sooner a Sepoy buUet ended a dishonored existence ftie bet-^».
ter. But the flying Sepoy Jpullet laid low better mcn and^
passed me. I carried a sort of charmed life — I passed
through skirmish after skirmish, hot work too with the fierce
black devils, and never received a scratch. At last our
slaughtered countrynien were avenged and the mutiny was
over.
"Of the life that followed in India I hâve little to say.
It was the usuaV duU routine of drill and parade ; of .Calcutta
1 and Bombay — of» hill parties, of up-country excursions, of
1 jackal shoot/ ng, and pig sticking. Of a sudden I grew tired of
itall. Iftdia becanie insupportable, a sort of homesickness
T took possession of me. I must see England. I must se e my.
njQtheronœ more. 1 Bold our and camé 5ome, ^^ — ~
«^m^
...v'f^,^
s ; ^^ /^,,«f ^i^TM^hft V'^V^-'-f;«iP^^p
' ^"'-t^ M
THROVCH TIIESVNSET.
^41
hère, and heard ail about mv oeonl^' lu " , .
Caryriyrine forever, and Sen ?.n t k^ T^^^^' ''^^ ^«''«ed
- had adopted Gène al Forrester's Zf'lt ^' f"'"^ ^he
and he.ress. Miss Forres te7be n^ . h ^ ?''i^' ^^' ^^"ghter
I^ady Dynelywas a widow-she ï^ ^' ^ ^f •^'^" *^"^
had adopted an orphan lad 'ïn ""^^ abroad-she too
heir at Eton. That was Xt T T' "°J f^ ^'^"^ ««" ^^^
-go^M>s.a„dth^
^"^'S tiniel went to Amerira Tk r
bUng aimlessiy ab^ut the counS' /•'^^''^ ^ rf mained. ram-
do with my futurete luddënl^ n^'"^ *^ ^""'^^ ^^at to
. ta«n for certain what had becôie otT^ '° """ *° ^^^^^-
been my wife. Was she living oTdead? T T'^^^u^'^^ ^^^
her at ail when I could avn H ,? k » ^ ^ "^^^'' tboiight of
obtruded. No.v was he Jme to knn '^f ^''^"S'^^ '^^^ «^^^
"I went to Canada On V """^ ^°' ^^"^in-
seen her last. The lond^hn ' '° ^ P'"^^ ^'^«re I had
had chosen as h^r Lmë iCd tL^n'i ^ «^'ghts, which she
uninhabited. I returS to th. fn "? ^'■^^' ^^«°'^te «"d
who had been its ownt thi teen v!"' ^""'^^ "P ^'^« ^lan
owner still. t^rteen years before, who was its
who hS beeS'l^:"ten:„dr tf °' ^- '^'^-^- ^ordon^
hurry. Perhaps-would I mfn.l f u' ^'^^^ ^°'"g^t « i« a
was Mr. Gordon-the eentlem.» k '*'"l^ ^"" ?-perhaps I
speaking to once before ?'™^" "'^'"'^^^ ^^^ ^« ^onor of
tell me where she ?s now ?? °" ' "^''"^^^ ^^'^' Can yoï
-'^d^î?^'r^^^îs^
a
»y o«e we.h.,e«^r.3;.-^S™
.-^' I.
.v-..
V
«F'
,^;j, f ■
H
THROÙÇH THE SUNSET.
must ever corne upon us with something of a shock.
"JDead ! ' then I was free I I drew a long breath — a breath
of great relief. * Will you tell me how she died ? ' I asked
after a moment
" ' It was a very shocking thing — oh ; a very shocking
thing, indeed. She was killed.'
•"Killed;
*" I don' t wonder you look startled. Yes, poor soûl —
killed in a railway accident Wait a moment^I hâve the
paper somewhere — I generally eurent such things and keep
them.'
"He ransacked in his desk*— produced a Montréal 4)aper
of four years before, and pointed out a paragraph. It gave
a detailed account of a very terrible collision on the Grand
Trunk Railway, of the loss of life, the list of the wounded
and killed. Aniong the killed I read the name of Mrs. Gor-
don.
" ' Is that ail your proof ? ' I said to hira. ' That is ;ioth-
ing. Gordon is a common name.' ' \
" * Ah, but look hère.'
" Hè turned over the paper and pointed to another place.
*The Mrs. Gordon whose name is recorded in another
column as among the number killed, was a lady with a his-
tory of more than ordinary interest She was of a beàuty
most remarkable, by profession an actress of more than
ordinary talent Her history must still be familiar to our
readers, as the heroine of the celebrated divorce case of
nine years ago. A young English officer of femily anJ
wealth, named Gordon eiaryll,' etc., etc. In short, the
whole misérable stoiy was given of the actress, her accom-
plice, and her dupe. ' Since that time,' the record went on
to say, ' she had retumed to the stage and was rising rapidly
to famé and fortune when this most mçlancholy dicter ended
her brilliant carèer.* _., ,^^ _SL_ \
" I sàt with the papêr before me. *Ànd this was the end
— the end of ail that beauty that, among ail, the women I
had met since Dr beftfre, I hadnever seetaequalled. The
-Koîcft of Mr, Barteaua arougcd ta%, —
« «Every year fiou the time she left, shtt retumed for a
»..
^r^y'%->.^
THROVGH THE SVNSET.
mo.her's li,i„g Lage . '^"« <'«'« 8"' "ow, and her
•WtoS?'""""" "'^"'^ '™"'- -Thechildri^id.
.ne"o"?.ht.'' "" '^' ^'^'"'=' °°" -<"-. ""d scn.U,u«d ,
CaXfT„r^"ta;,?°"'°";,^"'^'' Mr. Gordon
«.{wiodwo.^'.irTgtfri^rwoSr.tiâï-
for its support Oncravear . T' ''"^^ P*'^ «^erally
-.o«u,$o"f"A„Ti„t';r„'"or^ef'."'*'«- ■' '-"'
ried a inan nanM-H Mor^ Three years ago she mar-
Western ISueTshetnntff' "?•'* ?^' ''"'» ^'^ ^^ the
She could ^t hâve Un ^î^°?''' ^^^^^^^ with her.
her own. W.àZ^^tT:'^'' attached to it had it been
AJ
i
m
u
H , 1^7" r "^" »t""«»-Qer aoâress P*^ -- ^
IM - »
J _ *^|
'.r^
h - ■
\
k
l
,<?f:!
'.'^
'•'*
244
'^^^^^^^4y^P
THROUGH THE SUNSET.
:'m,-
^ertîse in New York and Western papers, and see what
''^^I folîowid his advice-I did advertise agaîn and again
but with no resuit. I wanted intensely to find that child. 1
ïlairi ed West, I inquired everywhere-in vain. Then the
dvU war broke ou? and I joined the army Two more
"elTassed, and then in one -^ '^::;^^::'i^^:^^l^t
awound that was so nearly niortal as to incapacitate me
?.r^ Whèr fiehting. The moment I could quit hospital,
iTtu^fd o Co'pe-went at once to Rome and took to
SS; as the. one last ambition and love of my hfe. In
RonL I saw you, saw my mother many times. but I held
1 )• T nnW knêw I had àriven her from England, that
Clishon Ang To her iL a garment. I had no thought
S if I came before her I should be spujned once moje
• Tha 'I dfd not choose to bear. Then m^ restless famiha
again took possession of me-I came baçk to England. 1
^Sed thatVture. sent it to the A^en^y. and there, one
sunnv May aftemoon, met my fate aiÇjfyou. . „ ,,„j
"And rti^t picture/' France ^|^7%akmg as hepaused
andfooked fondly down upon ^r. •''Ho*' '"^^ ^ight Kell,
was your parting with her, wa^
u Po^rsoul 1 Ah, Gordo/l she was to be pitied, after ail.
She Wed you and lôst yorff I can think of no bvtterer fate
^ ' Don' twaste your pity, France Of love, as you under-
tand it she knewinothing. Good heavens 1 what an
Sfly Vand cold:l^ooded ?lot it was 1 and what an easy
dupf shç'and that scoundrelly old major found m me 1
Don't lét «s talk about it. I hâve to d you-so let it end
r never want to speak of her while I hve agam. Only-I
should hâve Uked tb find that child.
Thev stond silently, sîde by side. The sun has set, bu
the sky is aîl rosy. I^d purple and golden, with the glo^r il
ha«left France pulls out her watch. ,, . .
"Seven How^the hours hâve flown. I should hâve
=TlslrSk^^ will -be q u it edarkb^ for e J reach^^e
aSKx noîf Do order round the phaeton, Gordon, whUst F"
run up and put on my hat."
THROUGH THE SUNSET.
She quits his jlde and runs lightly up the polished oaken
stairs, singing as she goes for very gladness of heart. She
bas always loved the dear old house ; she will love it now
more than ever, since in it she has been so supremely happy
She adjusts the coquettish little bonnet and returns
The lord of the manor,stately and tall, averyman ofmen.
France thinks, awaits her and assists her in. He gathers un
the remias one who has the right, and drives her at a spankin»
pace away froni Caryîlynne. The broad yeflow moon is UftinS
her luràinous face over the pearl and silver sky, the rose and
amethyst splendor is fading tenderly out of the west. She
sits beside him m silence, too happy to talk much. Ail her life
dreams are reahzed. Her artist lover is hers— and he and
Cxordon Caryll are one. She has been wooed and won as
romantically as the mo^t romantic girl could désire. His
voice .breaks the spell.
" I start for Rome to-morrow."
"To-morrowl" She looks up for an instant "Gor-
don ! so soon ? "
" She has waited sixteen years," he answers. " Can I eo
too speedily ? Yet if you— "
" Oh, no, no ! It is her%ht, it is your duty. You must
go. Only you wiU not stay very long ? "
The nightingales are singing in the woods of Caryîlynne—
they alone may hear his answer. '».
He drives her to the Abbey gâtes— he will not enter. He
will walk back to the village, he tells her ; he needs a walk
and a snioke, to calm his mind after ail this.
" Shall I see you to-morrow before you go ? " she asks.
"I think not— no, I willleave by the first train— it would
be too early Our parting will be to-night. Tell Lady
LJynely ; and let wonder be over before*! retum." •
Then undcr the black shadows of the chestnut trecs they
casp hands and say farewell.
-■*
'-.î*
**«*^**
\^S
,#^
rmfS^'-ifW'Ti'i'Èà
;i^
'v-
CHAPTER XVIII. J
KILLING THE FAtTED CALF.
the day ; and the mg^it ^^'^^ j^.^ ,^^"f,^^^ S^nely Abbey.
ing even now, is to be a grand ^^ ^ mght at iJyne y ^/^
F^r my lady gives a bail thejirst ^^^^ ™^^^^^^^^ «^^^^
the côunty are invited. ^^^^l^^^'^^^^^ blLk sheep of
the news spread î—^^sqot Gordon i.anm,i
so far as they Hnow it, hke a chapte froi^^^^^^^^
retumed to claim h.s o''"' JPf/if„Sn the ordinary nine
nieht ? It has been somethnig m^'^^/'î*" J"; ". ^ugs^ „ood
ÏSl'wonder.thisstory^athas^^^^^^^
peiple in a circuit off^^ty miles Imve tai^ ^.^^ ^é ^^^
^''''''T^:TV\S(Im^I^->^ lad. adashing
scores of them— a taii, lair nair , transatlanUc world,
young trooper before he left Pf ;^" "*^^ It ail cornes
Uer? he met ^e siren who bas l^en^^^^^^ ^„dal
- b?ick to them, thetirst dark whisperin^ontia„em
accepted lover of his mother» s heiress. ne lu» 1^
*- ^; . .4,,,, . j;,;,- , . i', fflV ■>; ..! ■.
jj^^jy^i*- '■]■«-
}
KILLING THE FATTED CALF.
247
ail thèse wéeks, visiting that mother herself ; publicly and
joyfully recognized and received by her, and to-night he
returns, and they will see liim face to face at Lady Dynel/si
At Lady Dynely's! Why, in the days that are gone,
when he was but the merest lad, there was an old story that
he was his cousuVs lover. She has not Seen him yet in his
new character — it will be curions to watch them, the friends
and neighbors maliciously think. And France Forrester is
to marry him. Is the i^c^ess wife dead then, they wonder?'
They had thought J|Bffi'<^«'e^er and Lord Dynely were en-
gaged, and now iU^^^i^ut ^hat Lord Dynely is to marry
a clergyman's dalSP^Tin Lincolnshire — a Miss Higgins.
Miss Higgins is to be présent also to-night — she and her
father and one of her sisters are expected this evei>ing.
Certainly a treat is in store for them — not one who is invited
will miss coming.
As the last light of day fades out and the white starry
raoonlight floods earth and sky, Lady Dynely comes out of
her dressing-room. In the clustering waxlights she looks
pale, pale even for her who is always pale, but fair andyouth-
ful and élégant in her trailing violet velvet, her pnceless
point lace, and the Dynely diamonds flashing on slender
throat and wrists and hands. The very first of her guests
will not arrive for a fuU hour yet, but she has dressed early,
and stands quite alone, glad to be alone for a little before it
ail begins. Up in her rooni France is dressing — in theirs
Crystal and Crystal's sister are dressing likewise — Eric is in
his — Terry in his. For Terry has broken through his réso-
lution of not puttingin an appearance before Christmas, and
run down for a night. Lady Dynely has ordained it so, and
Terfy knows no will of his own where she wills otherwise.
The first sharp, cruel pain of loss is not even yet obliterated
— ail his life long, though he lived to be a hundred, no other
woman will ever be to him qnite what little Crystal Higgins
has been. In no way is she at ail remarkable ; pretty, but
icores he sees every day are as pretty ; not brilliant, not
wise, not c^ver, and yet — she will stand alone among ail
~wo;nànTïôoa~ïorevër and èvèF t^^^
not met her yet She reached the Abbey early in thé aftcr*
' . Vi
.;%
'■. 1 j . . ( •«».
.,Al!ltf^'i>*^ailtiaA iuAji*»>m>*.
K-" ■■'■ ' *
.'+! ,'
248 KILLING THEFATTED CALP,
noon, he hot hajf an hour since, and he looks forward to the
meeting with nervous d.itad that half unmans him. She is
Eric's now — well, so that Eric is loyal, so that Eric niake»
her hfe happy, he c^ forgîve even him. On New Year's
eye she is to be Eric's wife, and he is bidden to the wed-
ding. He has had an interview with Lady Dynely — of ne-
èlssity veçy brief. AU his generosity, ail Çnc's disloyalty
is in her mind as she coihes forward to meet iiim, ând takes
his hand in hers and holds it tight, and looks with pale im-
ploring eyes up in his face— a face that is just a thought
graver and more worn than she ever saw it before,
" It is ail right," he says, simply, knowing by intuition what
she would say. " So that Eric makes her happy, ail the rest
is nothing. I don't blâme him much — her not at ail.
Who would look at me twice beside Eric ?Ji
And then he kisses h(|r cheek gently and goes up-stairs to
his own old room, and meets, France on the upper lànding
on -her way todress.
/•* Dear old Terry," Miss Forrester says, giving him bôth**
hands; "it is like water in the désert to see you again.
Go where I will, meet wl^om I may, there is but one Terry "^
pennison."
" And but one Mr. Locksley— no, I beg his pardon, but
one Gordon Caryll. So youi^, hero has corne at last, Francç.
AU your life you hâve been ivorshipping him from afar off,
now your demigod has plumped from the clouds at your
feet. You haye thrown over Eric and are going to marry
Caryll."
'•Thrown over Eric!" Miss Forrester retorts, foreetting
grammar in indignation. "I like that way of putimg it,
when everybçdy ktiows he threw over me. A case ôf love
at sight, wasn't it, Terry? and, amazing to rel44e,jt seem*
to last. I suppose you know she's hère."
" Yes, I know. Do you like her, France ? But you do,
of course." ,
" I don't perceive the of course. She is pretty enough^—
oh, yes, I do n't deny her pretty Greciaii features and pink
-andpeaii cbihpTexioir; btrt, nkè Sel —thàt's wïoffief trirnE"^
Little idiot I» *
■^
1
m--
«"«^««r»
^
^^•<
KILLING THE FATTED CALF.
249
"Aifid why little idiot, Miss Forrester?"
"She jilted you, Terry, for him— a man for a majikîn.
She led you on» and woiild hâve mairied you if he had net
coine ; and.at the first sightof his ambrosial curis and little
amber mustache and girl's complexion, she goes down at
h;s lordly feet. Bah ! l've no patience with her."
" But you'U be good.to her, France, ail the same. Poor
Iittle Crystal ! It looks a very brilliant match, and yet ^
"And yet she would be ten thousand-fold happier as ybur
wife. The woman who is lifted to the honor and bliss of
being my Lord Viscount Dynely's bride, bids fair, once the
honeymopn is ended, to win the martyr's crown. The
haudsomest peer in the realni, the most notorious maie flirt'
VA Europe, is hardly likely to be heîd long by the pretty, in-'
Bocent, baby face of Crystal Higgins. It was awfuUy good
of you, Terry, to corne at ail." 1 •
/'^^\]^^n^'''? wished it," is Terr/s quiôt answer, as!
though ail was said in that, and Miss Forrester- shrugg h«r
impérial shoulders. • ° '.
" j^^ ^^^ ^V^^"? ^^^ • You should hâve- been born of
race ; the niotto of the house suits
the Dynely blood and
you— « Loyal au mort: You wôuld be faithfuï'toThe" de'Tth^
l erry, I think. It certainly doe^ not suit Eric— it is not in
him to be faithful to any hunïan being."
" I wisi} he hçard you, France."
" He has heard it a thousand times. By the' bye, Terry»
It occurs to me to ask exactly what relation are you to Eric ?"
The clustenng wax lights shed their lustre full upon Ter-
ry s face, and, as she asks the heedless, impulsive question,
France sees that face turn dark red from brow to chin. ' The
s\vift abruptïiess of the simple demand sjrikes him mute,
t he truth he may not tell— may never tell, and falsehpods
never corne tnppingly from Terry's longue. Miss Forrésttr
lays her shm rlnged hand on the young man\ arra.
"I beg your pardon," she says, hastily. "i fenow, of
mv ^!!]^ n^!^ ^'f ^^"^ c ousin; b ut, as you stood ther e, on
my Word you l,^kcd snfficientlylîkë Km to be fiFs l)rotlier.
I nave often noticed a vague resemblânce before, in height
and beaiing ; but never, I think, so markedly as now."
11* ! *
r. '
/-i
\---
250 8W KILLlffG THE FATTED CALP,
The dark, yainful flush deepens on Dennîson's face. , He
looks at her with startled eyes. She is wonderfully aeute m
her surmisef. Has some inkling o£ the truth^ corne to her ?
But no— the smiling face that meets hisis sûpreraely uncoiv
scious. She pulls out her watch. W y. j /'■
" Past seven. I shoùld hâve been under the hands of
Pauline an hour ago. Ta, ta, Terry ; run away, «y dear
boy, and make yourself beautiful forever."
She trips past and vanishes in one of the upper rooms ;
and Terry, drawing a long breath, goes more slowly to his.
" No," he thinks ; " it was but a random shot that struck
home. ' I %m Eric's distant cousin^ She suspects nothing."
But Mr. Dennispn was mistaken. It had been a random
shot: but, as the red light of guiU flamed out m the dra-
Roon's face, the first suspicion of the truth that had ever
coine to her broke upon her then.. She had heard that vague
story of distant kinship^she had heard, years ago, that
Lady Dynely had made a pilgrimage to some wild région of
western Ireland and brought Terry back, a httle uncouth
waif and stray ; she knew how zealously she had cared for
him since— she knew of Terry's boundless love and grati- ,
tude, in which to her there was always somethmg almost pa-
thetic : but she never dreamed there raight be more on the
cards than met the eyes. " Sufficiently like Eric to be lus
brother." She had heard what manner of man the late
Right Honorable Viscount Dynely had been— ^c s hght-
headed fickleness was as hereditary as the trtle.'^ho was
to say that Eric and Terry werenot brothers, after a»?
Yes, that was the secret of Lady Dynely's compassionate
care— of Terry's humble, patient dévotion.
"Poor fellowl" sbe thought, " it is hard Une» on him.
The name, the rank, the wealth, the love— ail to the youn-
ger; to the elder brother npthing. Ah, welll as poor
Stephen Blackpool says, ' Life's aw a muddle.' "
She sits musing for a while under Pauline'spractised hands,
then her thoughts shift away from Terry Denmson to Gordon
Ga iv H^ He will be he r&tomightr and under the^ ^silk, and^
flowers, and lacés her heart gives a glad leap. Since Aat
ha|)py evening under the iQOonlit limes and chesUuits ttey
:>
usâ\
\'l-'s0^i
Ï'T /
.^..'^l'
. X/LL/Jf^THE i^ATTED CALF.
hâve not met; to-nîéh\ he will be with her once more.
Howstrange, how romahèically strange it ail has been, she'
thmkî. From earhest childhood she has heard of him set
hira up as a hero, and loved^in. inhergirlish, roraantic way.
wuhout any hope of ever séeW him. And now he is back
— her own, fore ver. \
" Huriy, Pauline-hurry, myNcHild," she says in French.
It wants but an hour until hi^rrival, and shetnust be the"
! T "îffu '•""• Already wh^ls are^crashing over the
. gravel, and the guests are beginninévto arrive.
There is a tap at the door. \
litt^voSe.' ^''' ^°"*'''^'' ™^y ^ «^T" '''^" «^y« ^ t'^^id
France breaks away. from Paulinô\ hands, opens the
door, and sees Crystal standing JheredreJsed aqd re^dy to ro
down and trembling with nervous dread of tW ordeal. She has
been but little accustomed tô society-u^il the eo^iing of
Lord Dynely and her fairy fortune she has beèX looked upon as
ababyat home. To-n.ght shemust docredît\to,Eric's taste
r. K 1/ "'°'^ *'"i'''^^ ^"^ sensitive of mknkind-must
face half a county and be criticised, and see eS's mortifica- "
tion in his face if her country manners fail. Sh^ loves him
so wholly, that the thought of his displeasure is a Wth.
Iwo great, implonng, blue eyes look up to Mi^ Forres-
£: f ^V •!î"'r'^'- '^^P'"^''*^'"S-the gaze of a veW child.
bJîe is afraid of this stately, da^k-eyed heiress, but noY\half a
quarter as she is of Eric. ^ ""i^N^"au a
"Please, Miss Forrester, may I corne in and wait iintil
you are dressed, and go down with you ? " she falters A
fnJn^"''^ ^^ ^' her suddenly in her arms, ail her prejudic\s
fading away at sight of that pathetic, baby face, puts haA
the feathery, flaxen hair, and kisses hêr. V s\
Iookî;r'"if'''i>^' baby,!' she says ; «come in an^ let me ^
» n J^^' ^^ '^*^'"» ^ ^^^ "° '^<=a yo" '«^ere half so lovely."
Dink^^lh r ^°'-^<^ster"-Crystars pearly face flushes rose-
S:a.?^]!:P^^"l""^-"<^° yo» think I an, pretty? Do you
^^^f-^^^-^^W^^^'t^^
me?"
"Ashamed of you? WeU, Eric is tolerably fiutidioiuy
' vj
3fe
\
" ;4
'3
M%0::^i}sâ^ir;. ...,
V -,. ;, .."W'iï (
..*■.■.,.■.■ '»Aid*i..:* ^■■\ "
■•(■■■■
'•«l»-»lM«»o*»v» ,^,,
'j'^fl^ff^t
252
KÏLLING THE PATTSD CALF.
w
tolerably hard to please, but I think even he would find ît
iJifficult not to be fuUy satisfied to-night. ig^a^ljttle vanity,
I won't flatter you, I won't tell you what I Ihink of your
looks. Only you are more like th& queen of the fairies, or a
' lily in green covert hiding,' than any ordinary mortal I e/er
. saw.^ Pauline, what do you think ?"
Thei-eupon Pauline bursts forth into a véhément French
outpouring of praise and admiration, that brings smiles, and
diraples, and blushes to Crystal's shy fac^e. "Like a lily in
green covert hiding? " Yés, the poetic similê is a true one.
With her filmy, gossamer dress of palest green, hér pale pearl
ornaments, her paler floating, flaxen hair, her pure, pale face,
her large, shy eyes, she lotiks like some wa^er spirit, like
Undine herself— a lake lily in-its green array. ,
Ten nnnutes more complète Miss Forrester's toilet. Dark,
and stately, and tall, entirely self-possessed and ^ her ease,
a greater contrast than the two could scarcely be found as
they descend to the already fiUed rdoras. A blue,, silvery
silk sweeps behind her, silver Hlies trail iii the rich darkness
of her hair, looped with diamond stars, a cluster of fràgranl
white blossoms în her hand. So Miss Forrester and Miss
Higgins dawned upon the view of the best ca»nty society;^^
Eric is watching for his lady love— Eric, lookmg ex-
treraelypatrician, and élégant, and his eyes light.as they fall
upon his betrothed. Truth to tell, he has been dreading
this ordeal almost more than she has ; his vanity is so thui-
skinned— so much stronger than any other passion of his
life. What if she does not do him crédit to-night ? What
— good Heaven !— what if she appears looking rustic, or
countryfied, or dressed in bad taste? He has been turnmg al-
ternately hot and cold for the last fifteen minutes as he stands
hère, when he sees her enter therooms on France Forrester's
arm. And then dqubting and fearing are at an end. His
heart gives an exultant leap, his eyes light, a smilc comes
over his lips, he draws a long breath of intense, unutterable
relief. Rustic, countryfied, dressed in bad taste ! Why, she
U lovelier than he has ever seen her. and her dregs is t he
very perfectioti of good tswté, Yes, thé country parsoffr"
jaughter jurill do crédit to Lord Dynely tonight
ICILUNG THE FATTED CALF.
•n-.K "LÇ''''^^5^ '^ surrounded immediajtely, she is besieaed-
with pétitions for the next waltz, but she déclines IfcU h^
mientionnot to dance at ail before suppe anâ she tafe,
in ; fis .u u °'. ^'^'■'■y gravely responds. " A^è-are wait
jrervbest tLm! him, looking cool and lovely, and ou?
S V ^ '^ .^ ''^'■y dehcious thing in the way of dresses
Mbs Forrester bows her acknowledgment.
ieve?r:sTîrr"M^r°"Œ:^s*^rtr™j
He pulls his tawny whiskerslrid tries to laugh
Racheîïn!! * V°".^*'-f"lbeautifier-knocks ail Madame
th^v ? loS'^^'r 'T .''^'" ^^- Handsome couple, aren't
ÏÏr thaT q^hSI '''°"«'' ^'''^^"'■^ ™^^« ^°^ ^^ch oth^r! and
ons-irthTnY-K ^^""^ "°"^ *° P^y i a"d Lady Dynely beck-
\^!« reriy go«i „p, „Ki Crysttl lifts those ioiploriiig, ipno.
>-''5
.-»
-f \
\
'>-'t^-l\
,V*MiH. •^è*'*iitmrm*tji,m^tm^-^
i«M^»sr.-y--
»5f
KILLING THE FATTED CALF.
ceijit eyes of hers in humble appeal to hi» face, and fhe look
go^s through Terr/s heart of heàrts. Ah no ; she is ijot to
be blinied. She bas done as eieven girls out of twelve
wofuld hâve done — thereare not many like France Forrester
to look iipon Eric, with undazzled eyes. He pays bis respects
anjd makes bis greetings in frank, brotherly fashion enough,
an^ requests the bonor of a waltz. The turquoise eyes glance
tiriiidly up at Eric as if sèeking bis permission. For, earlier
in the evening, Eric has issued bis princely ukase that his
afSanced wife shall waltz with no one but himself.
f I don't choose to see my promised wife gyrating round the
room with every fellow in the county wbo chooses to ask
bel:. Remember, Crystal, you dance round dances with me
orily!"
She is very willing^ If he had ordered her to sit in the
remotest corner of the room until morningdawned, she would
. bave obeyed willingly, gladly, sô that bis sultanship deigned
_ but once or twice to smile npon bef in her exile. But
Tehy Dennison, ]pérry, who is almost like a brother, will not
Eric make an exception in his favor? Eric, who is to bave
sojmucb— Terry, who has lost ail. But Eric's blonde brows
kbit themselves ever so sligbtly ; to Terry be is not disposed
to yield an incb.
" Crystal only waltzes with nie, Terry, Scratch yonr ini-
tia^ls down for a quadrille, old boy, if you do that sort of
idiotie performance, and do it quickly, for our waltz begins."
Terry does that sort of idioti(f performance, scratches bis \
>mtials accorflingly, then seeks*out I^dy Dynely. Lady ^
PyOely merel ' wants him to make himself useful ail night, ^
in finding pai mers for unpartnerable elderly girls, and lead
the forlorn ho je himself.
" It is whaf Eric should do," her ladyship says, «but Eric
won't do it. If„bê dances at ail, it wiil he with the youngest
and preniest girls présent, so, Terry, I look to you."
|"England expects every man to do bis duty,'" laugb»
France Forrester, passing bim, and giving him a perfumed
bk)^ of ber fan. ". My poor Terry 1 Some men are bon»
=jnartyrsr S<Mne bave martyrdom^thrust^vpe&rthem^^f^
to think you are one of the laiter."
\g
û'>^-
>.'^'
Û
!»W -ï^ï*' 'T-
w-
<.,, -
.,«»»" ••
-" 1 ^K.
KILLING THE FATTED CALF.
355
But Mr. Denmson pulls on his kid gloves a little tiehter
liu ^\. ^'""^Ç'y^^^ »s not for hini, ail the rest doesn't
much matter. The most vénérable virgin présent, the scrair!
Cr "^ '^""^ *** ^^ ^°' '^'' °^S^' as the Venus
J'-^u\^^"1^f ^^l* "there^s Belinda.Higgins-ril lead
off with her. After tfeat l'il take 'eni as thTy come-^Se
down, t'other corne on." ' -
,. ^^^f""'?°" «««? a"d with polite empressement asks
the edest M.ss H.ggms but one for that waltz. Eric and
SL V ^Tr^rw^'"" '' P"'*t*?' ^"^ '^'^' ^*»^^'"« *« in theh!
thT^\ u Y'^'^P^'"^ somethmg in her pretty pink ear
laulr T?j''fJ°°'lf'7"">'""^ ^'' bonyelderlysfster and
uli V I A tV ""'"'î^^'L*^"^ °^ *"' ^"* Terry bears it man-
fully. Let them laugh. He is pleasing Lady Dvnelv he is
makmg, for the time, poor old Belindf happyliel^ksno
ni?' rl5r'^'*" '' "°* ^*'''^'"8- S^« »« Srom^g impatient.
Can h.'nl , "^''- Ç*" ^nything hâve happened?
Can he not be coming, after ^Sll ? He telegraphS this
WhvZ 'h "";'' '^ r*^^*^^™ ^y ^'^^ «««^^ oSk triï^
wny does he not corne ?
think^nf '^ "^^"^k" ^^""' No, shé could as soon
think of flying. She gets awray from Prince Di Ventu-
îi» ;J »s présent, and who dances like a little yellow
hril£n.r Sn '^"'^''^' ^^' \*y ^'■°'" ^^^ ^ar™» briUiantly lit,
bnlliantly fiUed saloon, to the cloak room-, throws a heavi^
OcSyb^^n^l ^ ^"'"^ ^^^^^^ and goes out into the chill
A wild autumnal gale is blowing, the tré^ rock in the
SbWL';T"«'ÎK**' fl-^« e-th Sd sky aTd dSnt JLa!
whiJ^^iH T ^''^ POi:?co steps and stands alone on the
white, cold terracc. The stone ^ns gleam Jike «ilv ^r;
^^rmTnarbre stands with his face uplifted to thepurplT
Bky. defying the hghtning. Above the roaring of thï gÏÏe
1
356
KILUNG THE FATTED CALF.
she can hear the deepH" hoîu:s«^ roar of the far-off sea,
. above ail the sweet ringing W' the Gennan waltz music
within. The-old stone Abbey is lit to the roof— cotintless
figures Ait past the Windows like shapes in a magie lan-
-tern. She stands hère alone, wondering why he does not
çoine. Suddenly, over the soughing of the wind, the toss-
ing of the trçes, there cornes a sound that makes her heart
spring, her eyes light— the rapid roll of the wheels up t|ie
drive, The carnage wasï«ent two good hours ago to nieet
him ; ail is well, he is hère at lasf.
She leans eagerly forward. Yes ! the tall form of her
lover leaps out and approaches.' He sees the soHtary figure
standing on the terrace— the pale, expectant, eager face
upon which the white moon shines. He is by her side in
a niomeht, and France's perfect hour has corne.
•*What! waiting forme?" hesays; " getting your death
, out in the cold. Corne into the house immediately. Ho#.
long hâve you been hère?" ^ v
"Not long — ten minutes or more. I must confess^^
feeling just a trifle uneasy. You are two hours bel^i^f^^*
time." «
" And you took it for granted that perishing in a bal.
dress on the terrace woùld fetch me the sooner," growls Mr.
Caryll, but he takes her happy face between both his hands,
and his frown changes to a smile. " Yes, we're two hours
behind time ; gqt shunted off— misplaced switch, something
wrong with the road — I was asleep at the time, and knew
nothing about it until we were under nyay again. High
jinks going on within, aren't there ? AwfuI bore to go and
dress and ^ce thera ail."
" You would rather face a régiment of Sepoys, I dare
•ay; but a brave man never shows the white feather, be
the danger what it may. Will you go to your room at once ?
—the dear old atelier where my portrait was painted — **
" Atid the unhappy painter hopelessly donc for.".
-■««Has been fitted up for your^uisej'^-goés on Miss For.
rester. "So run up at once, get into régulation, costume,
a n d comè d own to be looked a t . " >
*^! îv
;tÎ2^S:
vf, ./
v :"?
sea,
lusic
■t
tiess
lan-
not
toss-
leart
> the
neet
her
face
.'"
e in
;ath '
> *
■ 1 . (
lO)^.
? ."^
'^'
^
>aifi'
Mr.
■^
ids,
'^^!ê
>urs"
ing
*.-'{
lew
j
igh
ind
are
t '
be
:e?
or.
';
nCt
- i^i 1
w
:,<i>
JC/LLI/ià THE FATTED CALF.
^57
" Caryll asks, in
:ins has been
^ will be the
[dupon you/'
id through^iia
"Threehundred, ifone; and
stared at until they <jan stare n
cynçsure pf ail ; everjr eye will bl
She laughs at his blank face.H
arm, and leads him into the housel' 1» ".'
say /'7eirre"vt;t';;; "^î/' ^'^^ ^^ - -^ -«^^t dJd ,he
cules?barto tdlToï'efirvtî'n?/^'' / ^''^ '^"^^ ^^ »-
the past seven Weeks TouS bf f H '''"r "'^ ' ^^s said in
She says this, for one A?n^ ÎJ, ¥^'-<^">«an task indeed.
corne. She will chajieron^yÔÛL^'L'^^j.P-'"* <>'
;; Are .you go.ng bak, Gordon ,„"*"""'
u»s^';;brr„n'asrte.^/..''-"''*"' "
,; She knew you at once ? " . j,,;^^
scre^^î^nf : 'SS^lTcT Lv î^ T '^^ ^'"^^^ ''*'^
ward and took me in her Ir^cl 1^^ '~~'^^ J"'* ^a»»^ ^1^
on either side dutwardl?^«n ^k """^ °°^ ^"""^ '^ «Poken'
her little less than th^v h. *", ^''°»« y«^« hâve çhanged
She woulcr£4 a,me ^uL ?^^ '' ^^^^r feeble.
being able, ànd Ton^ng V^ fo'u sh^^^^^^^^^ k^°'
you and Lady DynelvShl,, f^ ^ k ' ,**»«= ^ids. me bring
France?" ^ ^^"6»/ whe^ J go back. Will you corne,
';^r^L;mu:;,s\3^f 'gj^^ t^-
place on New Year's Evî «Ah fc. . Ç"^.^ wedding takes
"Bridesmaid r^5,!.^*??>f.™.J?.'^« ^^1 bride^naid.-
**rt;.
•I
<?y
,j0ai4i:ii,vt»s,^^
W:
'.V-f '^-
. ^
258
KILLING THE FATTED CALF.
A'pril ; not a day sooner than May* And then, i i the heighl
of the season, with flying colors, if you insist upcn it, we m\\
niarch to St. George's, and you shall be made rnjserable for
life. No, it's of no use putting on that implOring face;
when niy decree is issued, ail the éloquence of men îails to
* move me. Go up to your room — ^you hâve not a moment
to spare, you are shamefully late as it is."
She releasés herself, and hastens back to the ball-room.,,
Near the fentrance she meets Eric on his way for ices and
orangeade, and in her face he reads the truth.
" * Lo ! the coriquering hero cornes ! ' and Mjss Forrest-
er's eyes light up their lamp^, and Miss Forrester's cheeks
flmg out the flag of welcome. I)iad about given up the hero
of the nightas a laggard in love; but betterlate than never."
Half an hour passes, and then into their midst, so quietly
that but few.find it out for the first hour, the "hero of the
night " enters, He makes his way to Lady Dynely's side,
and she who has met him daily but seven short weeks be-
fore, greets him as though she had„never looked upon him
since that Ajigust night by the lake.
"Itis likea fairy taie," she says;'«'I cannot realize it.
I thought you dead, in spite of ail of France's hopes, in
spite of the yearly gifts to your mother. And to think that
we hâve fou with us once more. But you are g-tatlv. won-
derfully changed." . 4 ^ ^
«' Well, yes," Caryll answers ; " a dozen years' campaigning
is apt to change a man. Still, I flUnk you half-recognized
me that day at the Academy."
"You see, I could not realize it," her ladyship answers,
leanmg on his arm, and making her way slowly through the
rooms. " The voicei»as the same, and. the eyes ; but I had
made up my raind so entirely never^to look upon you more,
that I wouldh't admitthe likeness. 'Still, it drewme to you.
It was for the sake drthat likeness 1 wished you so much
to accompany us hère."
"I came to my destinyM he laughed. "But for that A
journey, France^nd I wohld never hâve arrived at an un-
derst and ing, anoT I should haveÉkone down to mv gravt .
^tîordon l^sléy.^" -—^V''^-' ^^c—
4r m.
/.^"
y,:
%
M
5Sj!2E,'JlS.*^ù-7ï 'S?. ■■
•<- « i-ir".
y!'
tu^
KILLING THE FATTED CALF.
'ift
not donc so badly with your life Vn„^ ' ^^ ^"^ ^^^«^
foryourself, with your sword and Jl '^^^^ ^«^ ^ namc
nave won France ForreS wl7^^ yo"
generous, loyal heartT î h.7Ï^ ^ heart-such a great,
Istha^lSSlrg^re^a^^S^Ï^^^^^^^ hin,, I trust, also.
blossom face? the bride elect ? wLÏ ^""j T ? *^« ^PP'^'
Présent me, Lucia, wiîl you ?" * '"°^^^ ^°^ "ndine f
eyen.ng, meandering through the T fn^. ^^'^'''^ °^ the
of ail observers. France dan.! T ^'•V*''^ ^^^^ observed
Eric, with Terr^ whom she rescS. 7' "^"^ ^'''^°''''' ^"^
lady. with unple^lsanSy pro„,S„T^^^
pleasantly prominent rougeTSks Whh t^ S '^"^ ""-
Venturin last of ail h*.for« j^^'^*' ^"h the Pnnce Di
Mr. Caryll advancefto'ctS h?s';"r;pertt%n'^.H'^r ^"^^
grlSj^-- ^^^ ac,uainta„rf„T;l:!;: S^^t
gail'So: -^ur^f'tï^^ ^- loss in your
never receive ^hat yc^ipronSed hll .1^^'' °°^ «"^^ ^"l
.tureto 'How the St Fdî'" ^^^^ companion pic-
«aZe tes 'i' ;; 2i^^^ "^^^'^^^^- " Then let .
yet hâve the companion pK \Z ^^.f ^ ^'^^ ^'^-»
'Howthe Morning Bro)?e?- ^^^ '''''" ^« ""^ »*?
W i°?h \:',^""" ""' ^ ^'"'^^ '^-t -ys the dawn has
"Acharmingtitle,"criesDi Venturini «11/ t ,*.
onsieur ever seen Madame Felida ?" ^^ ^ ^"^ '^^
259 #
. — -""itig iiiic, cnes ui Ventiii
•Mnwur ever seen Madame Felida?"
=i^mdsl^::^r^;^,r^'mi
ioL Londop-
a.
m.
^ t'
*-<-»&,<„
>1 !*^
: Ï.*V
260
I, ^
%
Kl LU N G THE FATTED CALF.
tt'a Jg^^g.""'^ ^"'^' ^"^ ^ ^"^ '°"S lost my relfsh fo,
.m!!!' ^i^^ '"''^•^^ ^ ""'^- ^' Venturini looks at him with
small, keen, ghttenng eves.
hZ^ïf""?' monsieur/ but I inferred from what I hâve
heard Madame Felic.a say, that she certaînly knew you."
me in"hï'lTfe.''' ^""''' '^° "'^ Knowledge she never met
" Ah I ray mistake then, of course. She wîll be charmed
to leara that she is to hâve the companion picture "
He bows himself ofiF, and France and Caryll go into sun-
pertogether. That pleasà^t , banquet is prolonged. When
'' T^Vl'^^^f knotof Miss Forrester's admirers press
. around and p ead wuh her to sing. She yields and is led to
the piano, still on Gordon Caryll's arm.
"Sing ' Ay Chiquita,' " some one says.
She points to a pile of music, and Mr. Caryll tosses ît
Fr^n.^ r '\^ '°"^^ ^' P'""«« '' "P°" the%iano,and
Frances sl.m fingers float over the keys in tendeV prélude
He is replacmg the loose sheets as he found them, ihen ail
at once he stops still-stops with one ç)f the pièces in his
hand and stares at it as though it were a ghost. He s
gazing atthe outer page, nofat the music, with a face
from which every trace of color slowly fades out. The
song begms-Miss Forrester's sweet, vibrating voice fills
the room. He never hears, he never heeds. Every feeline
of sight and sensé, and hearing, seems concentrated in thaï
fixed rapt gaze on what he holds.
PrJnJ n- r^'"' • •"^'!f J^^'^'^ ^'■^'^" composed by
IZV tîl ,ï"^."""'' ^"d d,«d>î=ated to Madame Felicia^
Below the itle is a cobred vignette of madame herself
leanmg smihng ly forward-.« ôus%. ' It is abeautiful face-
Si ^ ^^ ^"''°J'?r«d lithograph cannot make it other-
nitiSlS:" '"' '*^ '"' ""^'^ thei. briUiant smile on
So long he stands there holding ï't, thât'theVsong ends.
aiïfî'f^Jf a.™"'-™"'-of Pleasure and thanks from thegroup
about the piano, but the singer Uirng from »U for a «aile o<
tL
1/ !f
«f^«l Utl> •
p i?r. m
Hk
KILLTNG THE FATTËD CALF. ^.êi
praise from him. His face is averted. he is bendirlii ovei
a pièce of nnisic, and does not sjjeak a word
«. ri,T!'''î /' " ^°" ^^^^ .*^^''^' ^°''^°" ? " She aste, gayly.
«* chat holds you so enchained ? " ^ ''^ ^'
''Monsieur honors my poor composition with his closfst
, lair face that holds him spell-bound?"
Their words arouse him. He laysidown the sheet and
before, Oioiigh the name is new to me. In America, or Can^
ada probably-madame has been there ?" ^^
He hstens for the reply with an intensity of eagerhess his
outer quiétude does not betray. Prince Di Venturini ook
at hiin with quiclc, suspicious eyes.
"But no, monsieur— Madame Felicia has never crossed
the Atlantic in her life." ' ^robseu
"You are sure, prince?"
own^lifr ^"S^ T^' '"onsieur. I hâve it from madame's
owniips. She detests everythmg transatlantic." *
I hâve been mistaken then," Caryll says, calmly ; « I
really thought I had seen that pictured face befor™ ^ il is
merely one of those chance resemblances we meet some-
tmies. I once knew a person who looked ver)vlike that."
He offers his arm to France and leads her away. No*
f^Snt^H ? ""^ -"^J""*' ^"^ ^^'•«"gh au the hoirs tha7
tollow the pale gravity never quite leaves his face. And
oncerwhen ail are dancing and^the music-room is entirelv de^
<-»,»»^ u i T ° ".,i,^i.it umsic-room is entirelv de
Li nf ïf f "^^ \^\^ î^^'' °^ ^"^^ l'^g"'* ^hat has the pictured
lTr.S\ ^*^f' e I-e 'ca, and conceals it quietly in one of his
pockets for further inspection. ^ ui ms
th7l«^ *^'""- ^''^''^f' '"°™^"K ^5 g'"*y 'n the east when
the last carnage rolls away from the great gâtes of Dynely
^, V? f ^r',?^"* t°"sehold betake themselves to theiîr
room tK,^ ^'Z"" ^" ^T ^^'"' ^«'■^°" Caryll sits in his
^??„"^'A^f^P'^^^f. ^P'-f^d?"^ before him, gazing steadfiàstly
iiiough it held hitn by some sorceress' spelL
t
' 'H^f'^'-»";^?^^^'^-' --_
^•
262
KILLING THE FATTED CALP.
r ■ / ■
"Her eyes, her smile, her every féature," he says uridei
his breath. "Can there be twô woinen on this eârth so
uiuch ahke ? Years older, but the s|lme. Had she a sister,
?''~ rr , ^ Sraye given up its dead ? H;, v*- /-orne bacJt
(rom Hades itself to torment me? "
/
'y / ; •>,
!;%*■, ,#f..
' i^V ^" ■
. • t
r
' '^
" fe* '""^ ■''
^^ii^
\
^ , -.^'
CHAPTER XIX
HOW THE OLD YEAR ÏNDED,
T is the njghiof the jist of December, and the
vcarage orStarling is bright with îfghts, g^y wUh
people, merry with nmsic, and festive with feTst^ng
Crystal's wedding-day ^"^ to-morrow is pretty
Tpn!^^^ TK ^î ^«^"-t^ord Dynely, his mother, France
f. ^P''^°'L Caryll is not here-he is the only absentée of the
Ir V"^ ,s back with his mother under ^e Saî Roman
fn h^;?!.S'' wmter and she grows.mo.^^d more e^rgeante
Li\ ^o?^'- ^"^,T'^°' ^""'" hèr restored idol ouTff her
^qh. .Ia Ï^ i' ^'^ ''f' «"^^'^y to Miss Forro^ter-s refiret
She and Lady Dynely hâve but just returned fm» iXfor
thi, weddjngrtbey go back for the iin ter when it iK The
first week in May she and Gordon are t(?li maWed and
Jfter thetr bridai tour, settle down at CarynynnrÂ^^'
onleT f""" *•? i^'y ^^""'^^ beautifyingVd puttinWift
order. Enc and h,s wife wiU take up their abcSe at thï
Th^'eT; tTo"^:^^. " l^erJointureVu^, I^ylV^IÏ^
^J^.yJ S»*^^n Lanççrs" are ^ounding ^way over the
of Jhe eld e r *^- — •
" aci ui -aixteen L.anç(
crawing-room carpettoth
<rhn tggvrt^o'Vi. — .r ^^ >^ "^gp t pi n g of jhe eld e ât^ igg Hi tf K itWr
IX^n ? ^ P'a"o fooi. They will support ilatiireW^
f % on lemonade and negua. Eric leads'^Sff the reieuJ^
i •
*=,
*Âi
Kr^'i**,'^—
"V* "^
1'*
%
HOW THE OLD
[g hàpi>y and %3.nclsgtne, and îh,:d|e wildeS|
It lis^^ifficiilt Jj^g tdtbelieve,, but on tliis e^
love "as- he was tl^e daf
)ossibly îrtOt last— but ît iîiintjoir J«,f,!:«''
ica^^g;Iy''ileQâlSHHPK|P^& Met, and little Cry stal is ready '
enQtî|^h-1pj^f^jè$t^Pém for Crystal^ '
W0in^,)lfac|^j|^^ ^'^^^ISPI^'^^ fjaîrest, iooi to-night. Th^-
<^afê hÔti|içâ>^i|S^ié«|Jp^^ ^[iôe)|6, a streaming Ijght in her hîtie
IWes; ,hi4^sïii^«|,;^{isli'l'îtttè 4augh rîhgs out in her joyc^^
exfcitenîent; EVen iiovir, on the eve oif her wedding, she ^
■ hardly régifee her owri bliss. Surely it is the; môst wonde' * '
|»„freak (rfûrtune th^i gives this darling of the gods to be hc
'^^ very owf!nl).motrow morning at elèveh o'clock. It is eleveii
'f* tt
T.
peàch-bloom face to her partner
'Js^gh^^ As a rule, she„has.b(it little to s^y, bpt she can
'^m^ays talk to Terry, ^a.nd neyer half so gayly as to-night.
p'Tei3:y is her partner, and, wbatever he may feél, no one out-
war^ly is happier there. ,
Miss Forrester is not danciitg. Shè îs flitting restlessly
aboùt, hère and there and everywhere. The rooms are gar-
laisded with holly, and ivy, and mistletoe ; giorious fires are
burning, and in the dining-room a Ipng table is set out, to
■VKhich the ^ay co.mpany will sit down presently to toast the
îSIlfr'-Year in. No room is vacant ; sentimental couples sit
spaoYiin^ in spoony little nooks, go where you will. Thè
vicar and Lady Dynely, a portly dowa^er and Sir John
Shepperton, thé neafeçt magnate, sit aJ; whist. Sp the tuo- ]
^luents fly. ;
Presently France steals. away, aiid leavinç the hot, brij
rogms, goes out into the por<ih. It is a; dazzhng winter ni|^
the earth lies ail white, and sparkling and frt^zcn, undèi|
glittering stars; ^^e wtaess trees stand motiot;
.black branches sharpW|pced against the steel
Far oflf the village bellf^e ringing — bells that rin^
dyirtg year. ône hour more a^d the new year
'jie d i | Jt Jasi& bee& a very happy yeag .to. the
itnnds i^rè, in her white dress and perfumy roses, an^
/ ,
^OkT THE OLD YEAR ENDED.
26$.
-J
4 bn,o„ade. TerrySs cA-s.aÏÏ; f ^*,'"' ^^ ''""''^"g '
D« you see r^y'^lL^Î^Tfoi Z^C' S^^S "^^
don" «ïïall; l S „T'T !? ""Jl " ■""<='•. «n?i
, •r'"^^S^. ^ '"^ '="^1 y^ff^' •■ -'vpie.
'i:
-«-^ I
'^■,<
H
H^J. -(*»
266
OLD
i
YEAK ENDED,
H<^ THE
I
"Then you take lier, Terry,"' coramands France, and Tètiy
obeys, as usual, whlle Sir John offers his/arm to Miss For-
rester, and Lady Dynely takes the plac4 of honor b^^tfeti
vicar's side.
It is a yery long table, and the party is not so large, even
counting the nine daughters of the hoiise, but ihat they ail
find s«ats. For it is not a "stand-Op feed," as Terry.says,
where every chickett wing ai\d every glass of wine is fought
for d outrance. And then the battle begins-^the fire of
knives and forks and plates, the'sharp shooting of Cham-
pagne corks, the chatter and clatter of laughter and talk, of
toasts and compliments. Th« boar's head that has grinned
as the centrepiece with a lemon in its jaws, is sliced away,
raised pies are lowered, wonderful pyramids of amlier and
crimsonjellies are slashedinto shapeless masses, and lobster
salads vanish into thin air. f
The moments fly — the last hour of the old year is fast
drawing to its close.
"'Ten minutes to twelve,^' cries Lotd Dynély. "H ère' s
to the joUy New Year, Let us drink his health in the good
old German way, to the one we love best."
He fiUed his glass, looked at Crystal, and touched his to
hers. I
'^The happiest of alî happy.New Years to you," he sa;ys,
"and I am the first fo wishit."
A.nd theri a chorus of voices arises. " Happy New Year 1 "
cryliU, and each tur'ns to sonaebody else. Lady Dynely
stretches forth her hand to her<,,son with a look of fondest
love ; Terry Dennison leans over to her with the old wistful
light in his eyes. ^^ The vicar and .his wife exchange aflfection-
ate glances. France turns to no one ; her thoughts are over
the sea, with one absent
Then they ail rise, and as by one accord throng to the
Windows to see the New Year dawh. White and clear ^the
stars look down on the snow-white earth ; it is still, c*lm,
beautiful. From the village the joy-bells, clash forth ; the
old year is dead — the new begun.
--_llL . e joi est niortl — yive le r o i l'^ e x ç lfUiïis I < Qr !3 Pyngjy ' -
" May a^l good wishes gd with hiiri,"
#
t^'
^'iitik^m^
'^^
-■ /,
^0«^ 7-^^ (7ZZ) Kff^/> ^vvrz,^^.
26/
bo,S'!S%rt.''/;i?,ti. He «rite, .he k,..,s wi*,.
out : r "'« "ch ténor voice rings sf iritedly
" A îollïr "^ '''' *'"'"P«" t° the.brùn_
Everyoneforhisown.
S5 ?hfi;;iS \"^,~W. »y «end;
you also. hashenot? AsTen'^ ^ ^^^ ^"^"^ ^
a fnend and a true. true love • "^ ''^'' ' H/brought you
La^XeiÎr^irhVSj"^^ ^."> iinishes
Let.us hQpe for bette? Lff».AnH'"°"* *ï"°^^*'*'"' ^"<^-
elect. as^you are to be uu betJm^ . "°'^' ""^ ''"'« bride
that you go ta bed at onœ eïfh.f'^^'''^"^' ^ P^°P°«e
yours w 11 be /ello,v as any^^ant ^tHZl'' f'^'^ ^^^« «'
ôo :t is ovef^ anH fh« „ ""*"ëe ^t ttïe altar to-morrow "
^ -^ «^oPPing rfhf ^^^^^^^ Theg^sts
others disperse to their rooml th «°°5^-"f «^t and eo, the
one sees bet^een thê haDDV oa^ /fT " t^^^^^" ^^'^^ no
into the white starry nigK^sSe n " , ^"l ^""^«'■=' «"t
and Crystal is kis^ed b/niaZ. o"5 'f ^^^^''^'^^ <^'gar,
^ -Tne mofninff coii£Hflfi!r«ijriri'
r, evcrybodirdôwh ftr&fre -^Ti'^iï^^*^^*-— -
"-carnages at thç
Pi^raè Rour Has co
Up ia her "m
bower," tte bride ,un(]|^,^be(^f„
if'vi
'A
Hl^'^S^n*
t^:
W7''.'
4rofv
îTffB 0Z/> kff^iP ENDED,
.' #\ .
"7
.%
H-»
-î^'
^
.368
the alta^ The hot red roses of laaifnîght bave âiedl Vjt, !
is pal«r t^an the white silk she wears.,, The'chilly nuptia!
flovvers f^e on her head, the filmy veil shrouds her like a
<nist^ ^?Èiient, lovely, she stands in the midst of her maids,
npt. çlnaèj not speaking, with a great awe of the new life
tha}; i§©€ginning overlying ail else."
^^ is led down, she enters the carriage, and is whirled
aw^through the jubilant New Year's morning to the
chur^hj There the bridegroom awaits her. The church is
full ; villagers, friends, guests, charity children, ail assembled
tô-see the vi^r's prettiest daughter married. There is a
mighty rustling of silks and moires as 'tiie ladies of the family
flock in, a flutter of pink and snowy gauze as the six bride-
take their places. France is at their head, and divides
the aâmir^tion of the hour with the bride herself. AS usual
thiéi)ridegro(ïra|4windles into insignificànce' — the one epoch
in^the life of man ipj^en he sinks hislordly supromacy and is,
comparatively speaking, of no account. Terry Dennison is
there, lookin| pale, and cdld, and misérable, but who thinks
of noticing Am/ Only FraiK:.e%;compassionate ,eyes look
at him once as he stands, silené an<ï unlike hiin|^lf, with an
infinité pity in their^rk depths. ' . '
It Begins — dead^6tence=^lls. l'iit iow murmured re-
sponses sound strangSÇ^ audible in that hush. It is over —
ail draw ône long bfeath of relief, and a fluttér and'a mur-
mtir go through the jllg congrégation. They.<M;iter the
, ve^y— the register i^*%çëd— they are^Pàck in the^rriagëS^
w^irling away to thé wedding bréakfest) athd bridegroom mi^
i^ide are together, ànd the ^ight Hon«»|fe;Lord Viscouht
' ©ynely i$ " Benedick, thç MarrieJiMay - ^ ^ ^
^^Âfter that the hours ây like mi|flft|. They £lre back at thé
yiearaçe.^ Thèy^are seated at br^ippt, dfempagne corks fly,
tbags ai« drunk, spâècbes ma(^^d msponded to.'' The
_ tootil's h^ndsome face is flttâhed, his blue eyes glitter,
Il his feigoed langûor and affected boredom, for the time
being, ulterly,at an end. By his Side his bride sits> smUing,
Dlushing, dimpling, most divinely fair. Opposite, is Terry
^tmisoPi U yiiig^-htfftfi^ y ttt ïight-fadk^and Iftughtet^ '
* ^^, '■it;*'^. j ' V vi^i^ii. ,-_«J^>4**'^*i!^ î -r^'
■-•<» ■'■:
'^"^mH
JrOHT THE OLD YEAR ENDED.
269
Vr^rl^H • • ^^^'l' sensitive little créature at best
stanSsTrf>3te S'?™ '»<:«santly. France Forrester
it)B of ri» M.I. ï ''"^ ?"<■ '" •■'■■ ""««t a vague feel-
Zdw^f W",|;= «"»ot «ne, for .hi, fragile^Iooktag
pray'tS!:?!":;; die^.'"» -^ "" ' ™™ I - eUher. I
loot %S°nJàte'rr"""'' ™ "'' """^ «'"■«■>'"8 » <>«
pmpMc1oicethSiS!'°.r'i .r/"'"-" ^'"' '"«■■<'.
may iàlL" "hispered; "and Ihe dooni he lias invoted
^^Wu«Tal^^^""?f^r---'^_j-;
ï:
~"-~^l
'i<^
270
B^fV THE OLD YEÂR^NDRD.
" Look to yourseir, Dyr.ely," he said, in a hoa. se, hurried
voice, •' if you ever forget that vow I "
Then he ran rapidly up tbe stairs and disappeared.
Lord Dynely looked after him, shrugged his shoulders
slightly, and làughed again.
" Poor old Terry ! " he said, " *. the ruling passion etrong
in death.' As much in love with Lady Dynely as he ever
was with Crystal Higgins. Ah, well I time bltints thèse
things. Let us hope he will hâve lived down his ill-starred
niadncss before we nriieet again."
The bride' 8 door opens — a flock of pink and whitp, and
sky blue nymphs flqtter out. . The bride for an instant re-
mains alone. Indiffèrent to what may be thought, niay be
said, Dennison enters, goes up to the new-made peeressi,
takes both her hands in his, with a clasp whose crueUy is
"unconscious, and looks down with gloomy eyes into the
startled, milk-white loveliness of her face.
" Crystal," he says, his voice hoarse and hurried still; " I
inust say one word to you before we part. If, in" the time
that is coming, you are ever in trouble, if you are ever in
need of a friend, will you send for me ? AU our lives we
hâve been as brother and sister — by the memory of that bond
between us let me be the' one to corne to you if you ever
need a friend."
She looked up at him. To the day of his dèath that look
haunted him — so radiantly, so unutterably hàppy.
"/ in trouble ! / in need of a friend 1 " she repeated in
a slow, rapturous* sort of whisper. "7J Eric' s wife! Ah,
Terry ! dear old fellow, dear old brother, that ^n never be.
I am the happiest, happiest créature on ali God's earth ! "
"Yet, promise," he réitérâtes, in the same /gloomy tone.
" Who can forcsee the future ? If trouble ever cornes —
n^i|id, I don't say that it ever will — I pray it never may—
but if it cornes and you need4ielp, you will /send for nie?
Promise me this." '
" It is treason to Eric to admit any such supposition," she
laughs ; " I d orit admit it, but if it will please you, Terry,"
the^TaaiâiîFtrilIîance oThèr «yies sâftens t^TJlty âS"^Hr
looks at him, " I promise. It is a promise you will neveî: bt
W^'\
V \
y-
f
'V-,
'■' ^■"'î^, ?..-"'''
.>:
^Off 7W» OZD YEAR ENDED.
271-
callcd upon to redeem^remembèr that. No 4rouble can
ever touch me. Eric loves me and has made me his wife
Let go, Terry— he is cailing." *\
Hé releases her hands, she holds ont one again, with thaK
tender, compassionate glance.
" Good-by, Terry," she says, softly. " If I hâve ever giveii
you pam I am sorry. Forgive me before I go."
" There if nothing to forgive," he answers, huskily. «tNo'
ma» on earth could help loving you, and ail women seem to
love ^m. Good-by, little Crystal, and God in heaven blesa
you !"
It is their parting. She Aies down the stairs tô where her
nnpatient possessor stands.
..."ï-r^^as saying good-by to Terrj-," she falters, trem-
bling-already, even at that shadowof a frown on his god-rUte
brow. But at sight of her the shadow changes to briehtest
-sunshme. ^ù " »
"Goodxby! good-by! good-by I" echoes and echoes on
every hand.
The bride is kissed, and passed round to be kissed again.
apd there, iscrymg and confusion generally, and in the midst
of it Miss Forrester^ wicked black eyes are laughing at
Enc, who stands inwardly fumineat ail this » confounded ,
scène, mortally jealous, and longmg to tear his bride from
them ail and niake an end of the howling. ,
It does end at fast; he hands her into the carriage,
spnngs after, slaras the door, the driver cracks his whip, and
they whiri off from the door. A shower of slippers are
hurled after them— then the carnage tums an angle and dis-
appears, and ail is over. .^^
* * *"^^/^^ * *
The guests begin to dispMse; «Sme at once, some not
until next day. . A gloomy sdeW^f^Us over the lately noisy,
merry house~it;s ahiiost as Oieugh thete had been a death.
Keaction after so much excitement sets in, everybody, more .
<?rless, looks misérable. Tcfrry Dennison is the first to" go
^.m^PsJns régime nt Ladj Pyne l y ^Amager, aSid Misa
>-l
TO'estel- are the next, they return for the winter to Rome 2
and Miss Forrester makes no secret of her eagerness to be off
- . 3
\ ....
i
■d...
>'J
2 ■::-
r>
272
ffOff^ TffE OLD YEAR ENDED.
' The next day dawns, sleety, rainy, chill, a very winte» day.
The last guest has left the vicarage by the noon train and
thé dépression and dismalness is more dismal than ever.
The eight remaining Misses HigginS watider, cheerle&s and
misérable of aspect, through the lately-filled rooms, setting
to rights and taKingiip'the dùU thread of their dull gray lives
once more. *" ■ '*'
When night fall§, shrouded in. sleety fain, the dark old
vicarage stands sombre anc^fbrlom, despite ihe présence of
those eight bright créatures, under the inky, dripping, Lin-
cçlnshire sky. , . *
#
f ■■ , ■
\
yt V S •
*.i.l "
%!^
■J'u'
■fpt
%
PART THIRp.
CHAPTER I.
J
/,"V »
HOW THE NEW YEAR BEGAN.
RAW and rainy February evening— the first week
I *"*=;,"^°"f'^-' Ovçr Londolf a wurky, smoke-
coIore4 sky hiing, dripping wet, misérable tears ovei
the muddy, smoke-colpred city. The fanïous " pea-
atmosphère" was at its very pea-soupiest— figures
1 to ând fro tbroiigh thé murk, like damp spectres.
.1 ^X,'" great-çoats and umbrellas. The street lamps,
•thaf^ 'bee« ht ail ^ay, winked and fliçkered, yella*r and
4^ial specks in the fog.
^he street5 of the city were niieci witn noisy, jostli
the sfreets of the West End were silent and de^Kod: The
city were filled with noisy, JQstling Ufe-
dçadest of ail dead seasons had coiiie ; th^grçat black
houses were hermetically sealed; the denizens of Belgravia
and Mayfair had flitted far away ; |ven the brilliant, gas-lit
empôruuiii of Régent Street' were. enipty and deserted this
îoggy PebrOary evening. * #'
lAt\tho bay^urindow ofone of tKe great club houses of St,
jani(^r Street» â man stood smoking a cigar jand staring tnood-
«ly fft^ at the dark and disnial twilight. The wet. lîag-stones
ghnimered h the pallid flicker of the stféeto|affps, few
and far between ; drencljed and iraggled pedJStrians went
Su.^f.'JL! fu^" a hansom tt^re past, waking tftc y ..e-
^«r echges. -rtië^ Ififfigs were alrtlTe min at the É^*^
«I*
dowhadtostareat^^butfor^thelasjJçurhithadWpodtherl ^'*'
* '
i*
■'«^?jî;^ef;-'"
.%
....^M
^:*
■ M
•ffi','
SSS''.'
274
ffOfV THE NEW YEAR SEGAN.
r»
motionlèss, ^his moody eyes fixed upon the rain-beaten glass
The solitaty watcKer, strànded upon Western J^-ondon at this
most inhospitable scason, was Terry Dennisor». TerryDen-
nison who yesterday had obtaitted afortnight's leave, and who,
this<îf»îary February evening, foundhimself intheoldfamiliar
quarters— why or wherefore» he hardty knew. There were num-
bers of country houses — bright, hospitable houses, to which he
held standing welcome — houses where a " southerly wind and
a cloudy sky proclaimed it a hunting raorning," but he had
thrown over ail, and was hère as utterly alone, it seemed to
hini, as though he fifad been wrecked on a deserted island.
The five weeks that had<^^ssed since Christabel Higgins'
wedding day had made but slight outward altération in Terry.
He was iooking haggard, and jaded, — the honest bUie eyes
kept the old kindly, génial glance for ail things, but they
look out wifh wistftll weariness to-night. Where are they
this wretchéd, February eveoing, he wonders — where is
fhe, \^5hat is she doing ?
Are àhe and Eric doing the -honeymoon still in the leaf-
less groves of Brittany, or hâve they gone to Rome to join
the Gordon Caryll party, where Lady Dynely a,nd Miss For-
rester also are ? An unutterable longing to see Crystal once
more fills . him — it is folly, he knows, something worse thajj
foUy, perhaps, but before thèse two weeks of freedom expire
he must stand face to face with Viscount Dynely's bride.
The last gleam of the dark daylight is fading entirely out as
a hansoni v^irls up to the door and deposit sits one passen-
ger. The glare of the lamp falls full upon him, and Oennison
recognizes an old acquaintance. As the luan enters he turns
and holds out his hand.
" What I you, t)ennison ? My dear fellow, hapyy to meet
you. I saw a face at the windo^y and thought it ^as Maca^*
la/s New Zealandër conie before his time, to philosophize
over the désolation ofLondon. &astly weather, as usual.
How three millions of people, more or less, can drag out
existence tlyQugh it-JJ^ *
The spçaker flingsViiniself into a chair and gives up the
problem in weary disgust.
V
I thought you «rere in Gteece, B^rrard," Mys Tenjr,
iw'.,.jf^,
„i\i.
•Àl i «.«MK^
'if yf •
)-'-■.<»**
HOW THE 'NEW YEAR BEGAiV.
275
throwring away his cigar, and depositing himself in a second
easy-chair.
" Was, ail January. Gave it up and came to Paris, to
hav« wjiat our transatlantic neighbors call 'a good time •'
and just as I was having it (Felicia's there, you know), came
a telegram from Soniersetshire.summoningmehome. Gov- ' \
ernor— goût in the stomach— thinks he's ;goipg to die, and
wishes to hâve ail his offspring around hib. It's thelifth
tmie 1 hâve been summoned in the sanie way," says Mr. ^
Burrard, m a disgusted tone, "and nothing çver comes of it.
Ifs ail bypo on the governor's part, and the family know it ;
but as hé'Il eut us off with a shilling if we disobey, there's'
nothing for it. It was beastly crossing the Chanr>*«1, and l'ni
always Seasick. It's an awful nuisance, Terry— giv^ you my
Word," Mr. Burrard gloomily concludes.
" Hard lines, old fellow," laughs Terry. "^t u#h||îe
this time that your journey will not be in vain. m> Paris is
-lookmglively, is it ? No February fog there, I ^ppos<|? I
shouldn't mind running over myself for a few days. Many
people one knows ? " |
"Lots," Mr. Burrard sententiously replies ; " aft"^ as l\
said before, la belle Felicia at the Variétés, younger, an4 love/
lier, and more fatal than ever. Gad ! Terry,"^e diine ait
o( petits soupKrs will never die out while that wonârk «îxists
She's a sorceress and enchantreïs, a witch. St»ç must ie fivër
anditWrty at the very Icast and last nighl^ as I sat be«dé
her, I could bave taken my oath ahe wasn't a <% morç thah
seventeen." ' ^. *,
" Hard hit as ever, dear boy." Terry says, lighteg another
rcjgaha. " I thought that was an old story— over and ^one
with âges ago— that you wer* ckrthed and in vour n^t mind * iS
once more, -and about to taike oivto younNÉT a i^fe of tlie ||
cfeiugltttrs of the land. Ha»eonç>'
He ppBRmts his cigar case ami box of Vcamrian^ and
Burrard gloomily sélects and lights ©p.
" Yo« know Felicia, Terry ? " he asiis, aâier a «noli» pifaie.
Terry nodti. * ' /*^
" )i(m never wewe ©ne of her victims thoûtfh, were ron^
Uis.other punues. r "'~
h
jV
91. ■
l'iK-i, A ,t^M\.,i..i-^% .
. .-iMm/. ..
J^Hil^TÏ
tà^j^ £■*'
-ir,«sa^'#^">
370
irOfV THE NEW YEAR BEGAN.
«-^u *, 'V °'^ feUpw,"Terry laughs goodhumjredly.
1 he rôle of quarry to apy woiiian'g hawk is not in the least
- ' niy Jme. And I never could see, for the life o/me, what
there was in belle Felicia, that raen should go down before
- her, hke :corn before the reaper. " She's a monstrous fine
woman for those who admire the swarthy sort, which I don't
and knows how to use those two black eyes of hersl but
that dancerhas never dànced— were it the daughter of Hero-
dias herself— who could quicken my puises hy one beat."
" You're a cold-biooded animal, Pennison, l'm afrâiiï,"
fesponds Mr. Burrard. "Your insensibility to ail woman-
kmd has passed mto a proverb. You always had the entrée.
too, when Felicia was in Lon'don," ^
•^ "1 had thegood fortune to be of some slîght service to
1 °,"n°"^ occasion, and, like ail women, shfe magnified a
niole-hiU mto a mckihtain. So sheis still as. fatal as ever—
who is the last uhhappy devil who has falleh into hër
clutches?"
"Their namé is légion. Therelarê, two American million-
aires over there, ready to blow eaçh olher's braîns out about
her. There is an Austrian archduke, with five-and^twenty
quartermgs, an empty purse, and «le -bluest of sang azuré,
<. ready, they say, at a moment's notice, to nuke hef his wife.
rhere is Prince Di Venturini,j,who has corné lo his ôivn
^ again, since the young Italy partjp took the reins— that affaif is
old and settled ; it's an unders^opd thîng \\ she behaves he--
self she is to be Madame la prmcess. And last, but by no
means least in the fair Felicia's ejês— since the bracelets, and
nngsi 4nd nibbish of that sort he gives her, they say would fiU
a Rue de la Paix jeweller's window— is young Lord Dynély.'»
Terry has been lying back in his dhair, dreamily watchjng
the- clouds of smoke curl upward, and taking but a languid
interest in the conversation. At thi's naniei he sifa suddenly
upnght, staring wîth round, startled blue eyes. -
"Who?" heasks,sharply and suddenly. ■ * • ;
"Dyn«ly— knowhim^. don't votf? Oh, by the bye, yes-^
you and he are connections, àren't yoû ? Alarried at Christ-
..maa-country pafôon'j^aughter, d i dn^^ hr, aj lj^n the quifft ? ^
WeU, my icoraTMTgoing t&e pace hôw, I câatêiT^i^
-^
-«
.•l'âii, ; ■-
'^^r^ir't'i^w.
H
1 .'il* ..
( '•■.■- '
ffOW THE NEW YEAR BEGAN.
277
" Biiriard, do you mean to say Dynely is in Paris ? "
• " Been there the past three weeks. Went to Brittany 01
Normandy, or somewhere for the honeymoon— so I was '
told ; found love among (lie roses, a week after maffiaiony,"
awtully slow work; most men do in like case, poor devils ■
set the proprieties at défiance— couldh't serve ont his sen' v'
tence ; came to Paris, and fell, like the greenest of ail eratn
goshngs, straightway into the talons of'^at bird of paradS.
^ tehcia. By the bye, birds of paradise haven't talons ï
daresay, but you know what I rilsan." > ,
The color ;ias faded out of Tercy's face^ leaving him verv
pale. Mr.- Burrard, with whojn the handsome dancer is evi-
^ently a sore subject, and who is also suffering evidently
-Trom an attack x)f the green-eyed uionster, goes ag^ievedly
" Never'saw a'feilow so far gone in so short a tinie— eive
you niy honor, Dennison ! He's mad, stark mad, running
after that piratical little démon. It's early days to leave the
pretty wife alÔiie in their big hôtel. 'AU Paris is talking • "
about \t,soito voce, of course. Did you kno^ her, Teity ? "
Burrard's sleepy, half-dosed eyes, look across at hinîj^nd
note for, the first time the sudden, startled pallor of his
lace,
: "yes— ï know her," he answers slowly. "Hqw is she "
lookmg, Burrard ? " . ^
*' Never met her but once, and thaï was before #e Felicia ' ' '
had gobbled her husband up body an(f bones. I «let them
dnvmg m the Bois, and i remember everybody was turnine
to stare at the littlç blonde beauty. She appeared also
one mght at an embassy bail, and was the talk of riie clubs
for the next tBree days. |t was her first and last appear
u^^u^' \^^f.^. ^.I'^'"^ ^^'"' ^"' invisible to the naked éye.
Whilô he foUow* Felicia like her poodle or her shadqw, the
imie:one niopes at homfe, I wouldn't say ail thts, Denni.
son, you understan^," layà Mr. Burrard, fearing heh«s gone
m far, « but it is piJjlic tait in Paris, Dyn^ly-g infetuatioti
is patent to ail the wbrld.'V . ' *
Burrard has never seen on that caretosg, good4iuiïiered faco
'l
k
" " Jfc-
•-, • .'-r-'YJ^jg ■w»-«*«^^»j^.
-^,2^:
iyo»' 3r«ff A^^»'. Kfi^je brcan.
^M^are. It is set and stern, the génial blue eyes gleam like
^feel. But he speaks very quietly.
" And the Prmce Di Venturini allows her to câfry on ïike
lis ? Wjde latitude aar a future princess, you must own.
LGcomm^ating sort of Neapolitan, the prince."
-Understand me, Terry," says Burrard, answering this
laa sneer rather earnestly. " I don't mean to say Felicia
,^oes much fiirther than some of our own frisky matrôn* do.
" A flirt she is à oufrancc—she would flirt with her ownlf:has-
settr if no better game oflfered. Beypnd that, scandai goeth
not. Di Venturini is most assuredly a man who can tàke
care of his own, ^ dead shot, and a noted duelist. Madauie
is also most assuredly his fiancég. She has an ame dàtnn'ee,
who goes about with her everywhere— the widow-of an Eng-
lish curate, and propriety itself in crape and bombazine.
But she takes men's présents, fools them to the top of their
bent, cleans them out, and throws them over, with as little
remorse as I throw away this smoked-out cigar. ' One down,
t'other conie on,' that' s the fair danseuse's motto."
There was some bitterness in Burrard's tone. Evidently
he was one of the " cleaned out and thrown over." He
arose as he spoke and looked at his watch.
" Hâve you dined, Dennison ? Because I bave order-
ed — "
"Thariks— I dined two hours ago. Don't let me detain
you, Burrard, and good-night."
He went slowly up to his room, his face keeping that set,
stern look.
She has no father, no brother to take her part ; I may be
th^t to her, if I may be ng more. If Burrard's slory be
trte, thén it is high time some one went to the rescue."
His Qwn words came back eo him. Had the tiœe corne
already for hiin to défend her against iIm; husband she loved,
and for whom she had jiltsed bim ? Me knew Eric well—
knew how recklessly, insaoeiy, he tore every passion to
latters— knew how little hoJc^-pnjnc^e or fiddity had upon
bim, knew him weaker, more unstabie tiao water, selfish to
**** "^^ ~ir~'HTn rf nH mniraiiOT i M i ih iii l ii u
=9mw
SI
^i^'
HOW'THE NEW YEAR BEGAN.
279
'(*
r'-
fancleswere concerped. And into the keepirg of such a'
man àà this, little Crystal's whole heart and life haji been
given. .^ '^ t
"If he ia false to her," Terry ground put between h;s set.
teéth, *• ru kill him with my own hali^; Only one short
montlî his wife, and neglected, forsaken already. Oh, aiy .
little Crystal ! My lîttle, pretty,' innocent Cryptai ! "
He remembered his words to her on her wedding-day :
"If ^u aré^ever in trouble — if you ever need a friend,
>promi^4o send for me." She had not sent, poor child ! but
she ha^ not forgotten those words, he knéw. He would go
to her-Vgo at once. While Eric was kind shc had liot
neededl him— Eric had tired of her, was on wilh another
lovdl before the honeymooa had waned — she needed'*^iiii
nôw. Jlfes, he would go at once — to-morrow— by fair means
or foui; Eric must be niade to quit Paris ; and that painted
sorcefess, who wrought men's ruin, must be forced to give
lî^ét his allegiance to his wife. He should not neglect her
ànd break her heai*! with»impunity.
Thatnight Terry Dennison spent tossing feverishly on his
bed, irstening to the lashing rain, and chilly, whistling,
\February wind. ;|> Before the dark, iiiurky day had fairly
broken he was at the London bridge station — at nightfall he
was in Paris.
******
Thé February weather, so bleakly raw in London, is bril-
liant with sunshine.^sparkling with crisp, clear frost hère in
Paris. The great avenues of the Bois and Champs Elysées
may be leafless, but the hoar frost spamkles in the early sun-^
shine Uke silver, the icicles glitter hke pendant jewels, and
the bright, glad life, that never under the Parisian sky gruws
duU, is at its brightest.
On this rùght that bnogs Deenisoa to Paris, gaslight bas
taken the place of sunlight, ané seems to &« eyes, accus-
tomed to London fog and dneanness, no whtt less dazzling.
The bright streets are thronged — the huge front of the Hôtel
Du Louvre is ail a glitfttr of gaslights as his fiacre whirls up,
i iuU dcposi cy fainr aiid iiis^ purmaii tegnrgrtlîg ettinmce.
kii
/.
>-\
#/
** Can he liave a coom ? " he asks the gentlemaaly deikt
«i-
h^ât^h.^^^.
fê^^'^ /i4L. MâlK u ' d.^^ V,^ .^ r^ 'W
O
280 J^ÔHT THE NEW YEAR BEQAN.
And '« Mais oui monsimr," is the answ.^r • •« ^k
', rooin at nionsieur's service b,rtT- . '1 ^'^^''^ '» ""C
Monsieur does not care • he nr^nar». V '
backanda^s: ' Prépares to mowit, turn»
;; Lord and Lady Dynely are hère ?"
wiU Eric «S hini? Tf r"!"^^ '^ ^he? and ho^r
does not Smate^ihisLd J'-^^T^ f^^ be true, it
hâve corne. "'^"^'^-'"s and Eric's day of reckoning ^iU
iJyDy'neHs'Z^^^^^ -»'« of roon.s.V-
wide velvet-cushioned window sa oCtV'°'''^'\ °" ^'^^
busy quadrangle below wherT flL k^ '''"^- ""^ ^"Hiant,
and tal. pa.nfs standl^k^'^d^Th" t^ ^"^«J
ho>» she crashes lier nrofi,, h:„ i * ,! """■ "«diess of
of her eyes. ' The Jt blônHTv f,f ^."f bU.e silk, the l,„e
to see— Eric ia n»i.rT mauer? Eric is not hère
. cres for her „„ „o,e-ato Ae de,„g° ""'""' =™- «= ,
ho"eLTur;:r''Thi%!'''4''' "" --• -^•■" -f^'
W^ pre.ty.'yo.uhS, S-,! CTt , '"SurJ'l' ""°"
She haseatenof thefrppnf ii«« "' *i'». cmidish nO longer.
^ocence of the soft fair face, that made htff tTh''^ '"^ '
Jgone— its peach-like dimni^rf «. 7i u '^^ charni, is
'^early fairn'ess has tûrtj t^^^^^^^^^^^ the
rose bloom has entirelv fad^ tl* f J~^"' ''^'^^^^^ '^«'^
hâve taken a look o ptientlel^ft t"^ J"r*-°''^ «>'^«
SIX weeks a bride and 7h!: w!P^I' **Tf*d »« see. Not
/
'.i«a
àS^^SSÎ^iik%^>-
m
MF^^^-'
sT'™; -v'
^
ffOW THE NEW^ YEAR BEGAIT,
281
grown— are loosely clasped in her lap ;- her tired eyes watçli^
listlessly the crowds that pass, tfie many vehicles /tliat flash
up to. thcgreat doorway, apd flash away again. Her mind
isas listless as htr looks. She has been àlone for two hours
— two we^ks it seems to her. She does not care to read, sh<^^ '
cannot go out, she cannot call in her maid and talk to heiV^
.and there is no one else she knows. For Eric— well, the
largest of the small hours will bring Eric home— perhaps.
Suddenly she ■ starts. From a fiacre that has just drâwn "
up a man leaps out. The lamp light falls upon him for a
second, and Crystal's heart gives a leap. Big^ broad-shoul-
dered, ruddy, bearded, in thi famihar Toufid^iat and suit of
tweed— how much it looked like Terry, Oh ! to see Terry
once more— dear gld, ever kind Terry ! oh, to see any of
them from home— ewen sharp EUzabeth Jane or snappish
old Beliflda. What a long, long tim^ it seems since hei
wedding day !
Her wedding day ! It is only six weeks— six littlç weeks,
a»d-how happy she had been ! That day, with ^its dé-
tails, returns to her with a pang of remembrance tMMpierces
her heart. She recalls Terry's parting words'wkh strange
vividness noV— in ail thdse weeks she has never thoughtof
them before. »
" If in the time that is coming, you are ever in trouble,
if you ever need a friend, will you send for me il! Ali our • '
livesrwe hâve been as brother and sister— by the rnemory of \
the t>asl, let me be the one to help you if you ever stand in
need."
Shé had laughed in her happy incredulity then— ah, '
how true his words had come. But she could never
send for him, or for any one on earth ; her troijèje wâ«
a trouble she could only take to the good God M alone *
could befriend her hère. How had the change come about ?
— was she to bUme? She could not tell. Her mind went
over, in a dazed, helpless sort of way, ^11 her brief married
me, and the fault hâd not been hers— that she knew. '.
They ^ad been so happy in Brittany, so iotoisely hanpy
■i -with a happine»^ha^«ha — " cin^ . .^fc i. *l-l
«» f
** Spread out thin, might hâve covered
*(* -L^ÉiiUtî-' 'ÏJtff:. ^t.»
;êr sâ)^^
kbiy thcil
à ii.
:..4
' o '"1 '
\**
t,, /. ijn (/^e.-f • »? '
F.r^
282
^P^ 77/^ A^^/T K^^^ sEGAlf,
the second The th.VH ™°9^'^ate degree, on Eric's part
\ «asyawning i„ the fece of the br de h/'^" '^"^^^^^^^^
Crystal as ever, no doubt but fonr^f, ^^ "^""^ ^^ ^'^"^l «^
a dull Breton t^wn are aot tô hï / ^' of incessant rain in
culine niind. ^ ^° ^^ '7'"g '« ^he frivolous nias-
A "Let us go, like Hans Pfaal, ud to th^
on, and Iive th*.r« " /-• . 7 ' ^^ ° '"^
r lôrH'c K ^ ' . ^'■ystal ivould hâve
r lords handsome, bored face with hl.,
leJ'ght, put on herthings, and eone Pn
ïhenioon, were ail aIilr<r/„ "u ^ "^•. . ^^"s,
weeks' wife.' Nexf dafth^v ' ^«'■«h.pping.
If Eric
ii^oon in
lookedv
or St. Mais,
little three
a.Kl Crystal's troubles be"Vr.'^% ^^'^ ^° ^^n-
well. He drove with hef in IX^'"' u^""' ^^^^ ^" «^^s
by the profound admratTon he S f""!' ^.'f ^^"''>^ ^'^kled
everywhere excited^'H^L^hlr 'Slhe' l"'' ^°^^''"^^*
Tuiler.es, to a bail at the Enirlich f,!.k ^°"'""^' ^° ^^e
the Earl of Alben^arle'' ^ Embassy, tô a dinner at
Jd'rcht and SrnoTgr'^^f 'i ^^^ ^ ^'^ '^' ^ slight
Jockey Club, of whicE le^ was a „^'^, ^^^ ^o dine at fhe
w.th a couple of friend^ he 4nt l^"îhe"v ""'l'' ^'""^'•'
I-ehcia in her new pièce "Th^ rr>i? ^'^f,. ^f "«"es to see
and Crystal's doom^was 'sea^ed °'^'^" '^"^'^•" «« ^«"^
[heir^Sf:; r'It^r'S?^^"' '^'^ ^-^^ ^ook
brated Felicia. She had û^i.hJ l ^''^'' *^^" ''"^ celé-
I^ondon before I canie ut ^u «?êffg«"^ent and left
she'scalled?" ' "^^ '''^/^^"/i^^e great irrésistible
"Ah! wait unti] von «*««»" ««^. r l-
ê
^HOfV THE NEW YËAR BEGAN.
"^
ble raaterials \ wot of of old, one flash frqin hw b
/
H
283
eyes
will finish you."
Eric laiighed. r
" We hâve changed ail that, mon ami. I hâve outlived
niy taste for black beauties, and can defy ail the sorceresses
thaï ever bounded before the footlights."
There was a glow at his heart as he said it. A vision rose
up before him, of the pure, sweet face, crowned with hs
halo of pale gold hair, that he had left at home. Ah yes {
thèse dark daughters of tl|_eearth had had theirday— he was
his little white wife's forever now. Then the curtain roSe,
and the " La Sorcière d'Or," in a triiuaphant biirSt of miisic,'
bounded before thera. The lights flashed up, a thunder o(
welçome shook the house, their favorite was smilingaiid kiss-
ing hands to her friends. Eric Dynely looked with critical
eyes. Her scant drapery was as if woven of cloth of gold —
she seemed robed in a snnburst. Her magnificent black
haïr fell in a rippling shower to her slim waist; clasped back
with brilliants. The great, ddrk Southern eyes seemed to
outflash the diamonds. Whatever her âge, under the gas-
lights she did not look a day over eighteen.
" By Jove ! " Eric said, his breath fairly taken away ;
"she's handsome, Argyll ! "
Argyll smiled,
"Look out for your counter-charnl, old fellow. The
fair Felicia slays, and spares not. She is handsome— yes
as a tigress or panther is handsome — and as nierciless."
She dancetl— it was the very poetry of grâce and motion. \
She sang— and her magnificent contralto filled the building.
It was the merest trifle of a play, but she threw herself Wuh
wonderful abandon and passion into her part, carrying her
audience with her. At the close, when the " Golden
Witch " is tried, condemned, and found gûilty of witch- '
craft, when she is sentenced to be bound to the stake,
when the sacrificial fire is kindled about her, when,
with v/ild agony atid despair in the beautiful, ghastlv face
she chants her own weird deaih song, a silence that is pain-
fu l and oppressive fills the house. The mim ic flame» ~
raount high- -the deàth song dies out in an unearthly wail oi
•<«:*
XJt
ri-?
♦3
JF. l
_ 'iîjiïiv. - ''<«..'•' »« ( '(
^
f
-
•
■ /•
*
.V
x^
«1
"If . •
,-
:^^
-
•
»
*
•i
% *.,
-
\
- ■■«
. ''
\
j. r. '
''
«
\
\
,
\
\
::A
,*.
•
, ' '
«
]«
A
■
/ " ' ^
'
,
""""^--^
*
1>
^ V-
^^
r-, '>
V
^
^.^J^
■l^- *■...„
IMAGE EVALUATION
JEST TARGET (MT-3)
1.0
l.l
l^|2^ 12.5
Kâ làâ 12.2
2.0
1.8
\IM 11114 i 1.6
ftiotographicr
Sciences
Corporation
}
A^>
;V
23 WEST MAIN STREET
WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80
, (716) 872-4503
.\C<> ^ '
284
'>'
^
^;.
: ^
. »-
'W.
F ' 1*:.
^O^ TffE NEW, YEAR BEGAff
The " Golden Witcb " has been
angiûsh as the curtainfalls,
burned alivt.
"Best thing they could do wîtK her.V growls Argyll • « it»,
a thousand pities they don't trv it in reali>« -vl '
serpentine sraoothness of motion, a Tuplle Bra« fh^L *■
ver, panthèresqu^ ,A shower of bounTets S fl, nf^r^
sacTra;"'L!^rad^rs„tîrdoïïx''" S' s^r'^-
n.isS./°h:Lu*'"\°'<' '"'°"' ^'«" "^'"nner and „o
So they went, and the lovelv Felicia ail «m.i-» , j j ,
%
ffîi>niinrî, it buX.°:^p ^^"^ ray mjhewat^jîttt
J^'.^,-5;T^ ,^.^ '-,, V-*t j i'^f.'u£ >^|^ 1 Sj', 4
" I
.."'ktî^^5^
)*»*'^
f
■ t'- •'
■<*:
■--1'
:.:^i
BEGAIE. 285
■ J
:<|j
Dynely on horseback, Felicia in a fairy chariot, diawn .
by two coal-black Arabs, handling the Unes like " Four-in-
hand Fossbrooke " himself. The brilliant smiles and glan-
ées are showered on. Lord Dynely once mort; in dazzling'-
profusion — he becomes her attendant cavalier, and they fake
the Bois in dashing style, the observed of ail observers. In
a delicious bonnet— a work of art in ifself— behind a flimsy
dotted veil, madame still looks eighteen— no raqre, Her
violet velvets, her rich sables, set oflf her dusk beanfy well ;
ail eyes foUow her, very audible French exclamations of ad--
miration reach her gratified ears. Hats fly oflf at her ap-
proach— gentlemen innumerable salaam before her, and the
graceful head bends like a queen's to it ail. Ladies look on
the other side, it is true— -but what will you ! She is a dan-
cer, ah'd nien adore her — two unforgivable sins in theireyes ;
a coquette of the first water— farthcr than that slander itself
will not go. The sheçp dog — the demure-faced curate's
Widow— occupies the other side, as they fly along, down the
great wooded drive of the Bois de Boulogne.
And little Crystal's doom wassealed ! Néglect, coldness,
impatience — there was nothing left for her but thèse. Even-
ing after evening, upon one pretext or another, he was
absent ; evening after evening she sat while the long, drag-
ging, misérable hburs wore by, and waited, waited, waited,, ,
for one who did not come. Many madnesses of this s^^tt -
had held him before, but none so utterly, recklessly mafTas
this. What did it mean ? What had she done ? She coûld
not understand the change in him. Was Eric growing tired
of her already ? The childish blue eyes would lift to his face
in._ bewildered, pathetic questioning, the childish lips would
quiver. He could not meet those glances, He avoided her
more and more — her meek, uncomplaining patience was the
keenest reproach she could make. Then the bewildered
questioning died out of the eyes, and a dark despair took its
place. Even to her, secluded as a nun, vague ruraors of the
tnith came. Eriè l^ad tired of her— another woman had
caught his eye and fancy. AU was over for her. ** Milor's "
Jnfatu a tipn for the a ctresa ^yaa the goasip-ef the venr «er
vants, the magnificcnt présents he gave her, his c(AtUnl
L j-^^ia^J i.»AÉa> '.«Il M^ I O <.
s •■■■
^86
JSra»' ^^^ NEW YEAR BEGAN.
attendance iipon her; and in some way it ail floated to
Crystal's ears. Her own maid looked upori her w th pity.
ing eyes— ail Parig knew that she was a bride forsaken be-
fore the honeymoon had waned. She uttéred no word oJ
coinplatnt— no reproach, only the color died out of her
face, the light from her eyes— to her it was death— her life
had corne to an end — ^just that.
She sits alone- this evening as usual— she is always alone
now. She accepts no invitations— she receives no visitors.
But there ifta visitor for her to-night; however, a tall gentle-
man, at whom Marie, the maid, casts glances of admiration
as she announces him. Crystal rises, bewildered, from the
wmdow— she has not^ caught the name. Under the light of
the èhandeher her visitor stands, and a great cry ôf amaze
and delight fills the room, »
"Terry ! " she cries ; «« oh, Terry.i "
She rushes forward, and fairly flings her^arms around his
neck. She is so «tterly lonely, so homesick and desolate
poor child, and Terry is the big brother wh^j^ always
been so good to her— nothing else. . w^Hf
His face flushes under the swift caréss. ThSSe recol-
lects herself, and lets him go, and puts backî^r loose, fall-
ing haïr m blushing confusion. ' '^ .
" \ it was so sudden, and "I— I an^ so glad to see a
face from home. Sit down, Terryv.i When did you corne,
and how are they ail ?"
Her fingers lace and unlace . nervously. Her lips
tremble like the lips of a child about to cry. She has
grown nervous and hysterical of late from being so much
alone with her raisery, and the sight of Terry has unnerved
her.
" AU well," he answers cheerily ; « at least l've not been
down at the Vicarage,^ut I had a letterfrom Linda a week
ago. I told them I was going to crrfss over and look you
up, and.they aent no end of love and ail that"
Then there is a pause— a painful one. The color
has faded out of her face, and it looks bluish white against
the cnmso n ydvet back^uofLher ^hair. Geod heavenst—
thinks, with a thrill of pain and aoger, how changld
'mmmmm.
r'r^.
,- 4jr "^ "*V ''A.^''* '^'■rt'^o»*-"^V*'-^'>^'/ ':J> ^^^-^r*^"^ '''^? "^
J/O/T r^E NEW YEAR BEGAN.'
287
she is, how thin, ho«r worn, how pallid. But he m%;s no men-
tion of her looks, he c^nly asks in a constrained sort of voice :
^ " Eric is well, 1 bôpe ?"
"Oh, yes, thank you !"
Her voice falfers as she repeats the old formula. Again
there is silence. Terry is not a good one for making conver-
sation, and silence is little Crystal's forte.
"Is Eric not at home?" he ventures after that uneasy
pause. , -' ^ '
" No," she answers, her eyes fixed on the rings she is un-
consciously twisting round and round ; " he is dining out.
.It— it is a bachelor party. He could not take nie."
" And what business lias he at bachelor parties n<no l "
rises to Terry's lips, but he represses it. She is going to say '
something, he sees— the sensitive color is coming and going
in her face— something tlj^t she finds hard to say. It cornes
out at last hurriedly."
" Terry ! I Wish you would.take me to the théâtre to-
night." '
"Crystal!"
" To the Variétés. I— I wan| tp go. I must go ! " She
lifts h«r eyes to his, and they flash for a moment. " I hâve
wanted to go ail this week. Will you take me to-night ? "
He sets his lips. She ha^ heard then. He asks no
questions — he makes no reply.
" Don't refuse me, Terry," she pleads, and the sweet )ips
tremble. " You never did refuse me anything— don't be-
gin now. I want to go— oh, so much ! I want to sec—
that woman." ^
The wifely hatred and jealousy she feels for " that woman "
are m tTie bitterness with which she pronounces the two
words. It is hard to refuse her— but Terry sits silent und
Iroubled still.
" I would do 4iîything for y<iu, Crystal," he says at
iength; " but this—is this best ? "
"I want to go— I wiû go," she says, passionately, turning
aw ay. "I did not think yo u wogld refuse, Terry Denni-
L'i>4a*f...
"I hâve not refused, Crystal^'» he answers gently. «Ol
s it>iaià)pJE£ >4iriL*iift g^g£j'-
■«fî
388 ^O»' TffE NEW YEAlt BEGAff.
course I^ill
s pie
p. . w take you', with pleasure, since yo'. wish 't
She gives hi.n a grateful glance. j
aoftij''" were ahvays good to me, ^ï^ she repeats
anfstaiSrrfi '""'ï'"' '^i^ aid of hérmaid-dresses hurriedly,
and stands al ready as Dennison reappears. ^'
^ voice "bf^vf^ ' ^^f^I^r^Jy'" he says in his cheery
and I Von^ g^)^t good luck there was one unoccupied box.
and 1 got IL Our fiacre is at the door."
sne is trembhng with nervous éxcitenient. he can feel
cha'r^edîr;.^"/'" u'^^"^'^"'' "'^'^^^ actress,7ho has
He mav bê anS^ ^ "r^ "^"^"'^ '« ^^''^ ^er anywhere.
ne niay be angfj^ when he hears of this--she has no inr^n
m st. She muât look upon the face fair enough to take the
bndegroom from h.s bride before the honeyS;,on L at an
audience by her passionate power. ^ eiectntymg the
desD^r*^ Iv»""' K ' ^^\ ^""^ ï*""' ''^'^' «»*=»^ at heart, sick with
despair. \ es, she is beauliful— terribly, brilliantlv beautifu
v^rStr?^' ^*^'"°r^"y «>-autifuI, it'^eem to Lr S^^^
voice rs hke silver, her eyes like dusk stars : and Er c wor
sh.ps beauty m ail things,and this woman-th^°Ts he rh^^[
Sh e turoft a way in^ sick. m ute despair as the^ar^S
^Warpo^erTiâs she to hold him^nst a g^n^SÏL^' ~
1* itii t.
^■':
.V «/.>-'il«^
,,,W^ii iji^.ç. "'^'^ii^^^^^^^ïp^^v- --f. {.y^^i^
ffOW THE NEW VEAR BEGAN.-
289
tress like this. At that moment a party of gentlemen enter
the box opposite; she gives a quick gasping cry— one of
Iheni is her husband.
He bas been dining and wining evide'ntly. His fair, girl's
oomplexion is flushed— his blue eyes glitter wilh passionate
excitenient. If^ leans back and sweeps the house with his
glass—she shnnks tiembHngly farther from sight. Terry, too
draws back— Terry, whbse face wears a look CrysUl has
never seen it wear before.
The curtain rises on the second act. Lord DyneVs
double-barrels turn from the people to the players. She \%
on the stage once -more— his opéra glass devours her. He
lies back and stares immovably ail through the act. When at
."•''j?°f! '°^^ Plandits ring through thç house, his primrose:
kidded hands applaud to the écho. She cornes— floral showers,
as usual, ram upon her. Çrystal does not look at her now
,— her fascmated eyes areliveted upon her husband. She
sees him lean forward, a smile on his handsome face
— sees hun take a httle bouquet of fairy roses and gçranium
leaves from his button-hole and fling it to the actress Cry-
stal gives a little gasping cry of sheer physical pain.
^he forraed that httle bouquet— j>4^ pinned it into his
button-hole as she kissed him good-by four hours ago. And
now the actress lifts it— lifts it from amid hosts of others
presses it to her lips— flashes one lightning glance at the fair!
haired Enghshman in the box above, and disappears.
"You stand well with the Felicia, Dynely," one 6î the'
party, a compatnot of Eric's, say;;, with a loud laugh. "She
sélects your bouquet from ail that pyramid. tucky beegar î
We poor devils stand no chance against such a curled dar-
Img of the gods."
The third act finishes—the golden witch dies at the stake.
singing her wondrdhs funeral song. The play is over.
«• And rd like to be the one to fire the fagots, by — " Terrv
gnnds out between his set teeth. Then he leans over and
speaks to his companion. "Are you tired, Crystal? You
look pale," he says— so gently he saysit
^>
She 18 mofë than pale ; her véfy lîps are colôrlëss rBiit"
18
iàM'
r^t "i'f.^if
'4.4* 1 ïiir .
li. •'
^^^
" (
1i -t^T»**
t r
f V \J:' 4^:jkV> i?r-^'^At«':^^'^l|fç-^
290
^OW^ TIf£ ATSfy YEAR BEGAI/.
«he lifts her grateful, hôpekss eyes, and repeats the pld
foolish formula : y
" Oh, no, thank yqu/' *- • *.
"The • Golden Wi'tch' is finished. Thére is a grand new
balletr— do you care to wait to see it ? " he asks again.
"I will wait, Terry, if you please."
She does not care for the ballet ; she will net see it at ail,
very likely ; but Eric is yonder— her Eric— her husband—
and whilè she can sit and watch him, this place is better
than any other in Paris.
Çut presently Eric gets up, leaves his box, and goes awây.
Thi^e is rather a long inlerval before the ballet. People
chat, flirt, laugh, dispuss the play and Felicia, and presently
there is a stir, and a bustle anô a sensation amid theni ail.
Every glass in the house turns to one box as the cur-
tain rises and the new ballet begins. Terry and Crystal
look, too. "^
In that stage-box the star pf the night sits. Madame
Felicia, in elçgant fuU dress, ablaze with diamonds, lies back
m her chair, wjelding a fan with the grâce of a Castilian
donna, and listening, with a smile on her perfect lips, to the
whispered wprds of the man who bends over her. He stoops
so low that his blonde hair mingles with her jetty tresses. The
little knot of fairy roses nestle in thèse ebon locks ; and
the tall cavalier who bends so closely, so devotedlv. ia
Eric, Lôrd Dynely ^
Crystal can bear no, more. With a great «ob, she turns to
Dennison, and holds out her hands.
"Oh, Terry," the poor child says, " take me home ! "
He does not speak a word. He rises, wraps her cloak
around her, draws her hand within his arm, and leads her
out of the théâtre. In the fiacre she falls back in a corner
and hides her face from the pitiless glare of the streets. No
word is spoken ail the way— what is to be said ? Both know '
the worst.
He conducts her to her own door, still dead silent. There
be pauses, takes both her hands and kolds them in his strong,
_finepdly clasp, wh ile he look; down in the droouin& hra ^
ra^otenface. " '*■ " '*"
'f^
i£,
L***'l'^<i*AL^r-«
UOW THR NEWi YEAR SE G AN.
291
"Keep up heart, little tirystal," he says; "l'ilfetch Eric
home m an hour."
She lays her cold cheek down for a second on the warm.
tnie han^s.
" Dear old Terry ! " she says, softly. Then he lets her jro,
and the velvet-hung door closes behind her.
ï ■
' ^ii
■*
^ ^^
,^W^' f
^j..^.
"^a
■d"-
ei
''^i^-ilf|Lt'r.''V"'^''
♦
<
CHAPTER II.
*'LA BELLE DAME SANS MERa."
ned— and he has wearied of her alreadv— a
newer, môre briUiant beauty has won him fron,
ner. reny has known it would corne—
known it from the first, but not so soon-good Hel^
ven I not so soon. Hp takes his way into the sîreet ihJ
Deing burmng in his heart against Eric Dynely. How she
has changed-what a pale shadow of the lovelv hanov face
she took to the altar last New Yeai^s day wL a p^tiJul
crushed, heart-brolcen look the sweet, child^h eyesCa '
Enc had never corne between them, how happy he could
hâve made her 1 He would hâve made her life L blessed
' she would hâve been ail hisown in time. beyond the powS
of any man to corne between them. With l sort of ^oan
he breaks off. His she is not, his she can never be Eric
must ret^urn to her or she wUl die-the whole ston^ is'told"n
teX ^:îrf s:;^ ^::i^^^^ -^-s ^is
He does not pause a moment— he hurries at once to the
«rforth h^*;' ^'"? '' ^"* J"^' ended-the-peo,Je'4Vur
ng forth, but nowhere among them does he see Eric At
^ngth ,n the crowd he espies a man he knows, one of the four
who first entered with him he îs seeking. and farmïtesiS
way to hjm and tops him famUiarly on tL shoulder
Boville, old boyVV h^^
cmtgreetmg, "hoWareyou?" ^^^^
M
■=ri:-%:*
• • r
^f
**ZA BELLE DAME SANS JlfEÉCI."
293
Mr. Boville looks over his shoulder and opens two sinàll,
sleepy-looking eyes.
"What, Dennisonl what^Terry! you herej thoiight you
were at Aldershot. Awfully glad to see^you ail ihe same "
" l'in looking for Eric," Terry responds, plunging at once
mto his subject. " He came in with you. WKere is he
now?" ^ ■
"Yes, he came in with me," Boville says, with a faint,
weary little laugh. " Where is he now ? ' în much pleasanter
Company, dear boy— driving home with Madame Felicia.
Intoxicatmg créature that— eh, Terry ? And weally, oh my
Word, you know," lisps Mr. Boville, raising his white eye-
brows, " Dynely is altogether the spooniest fellow I "
"Where does Madame Felicia iive?" Terry growls, with
a flash of his eye, cutting Mr. Boville's drawl suddenly short.
The slow, sleepy eyes open again. Mr. Boville looks at
Mr. Dennison with a curious Utile half smile. "Eut fie gives
Madame Felicia's address readily enoùgh, and watches the
hig dragoon out of sight with a shrug;
" Is Eric to be brought to his sensés, and is Terry deputed
to do it, I wonder?" he thinks. "If so, then Terry has
quue the most difficult task béfore him that heavy dragoon
was ever called upon to ^'
Yes, Terry^was going^^rfng him to his sensés— going to .
bnng him to his wife ; àll'without sy*omenf s hésitation, he
hails a fiacre, giyes the address, and il whirled away through
the noonday gaslit brilliance of the boulevards.
_ "There's to be a supper, no doubt," he thinks. " Is not
Fehcia famous whferever she goes for her after-theatre sup-
pers? Well, fortune stands my friend this time— I hold the
open sésame to htfr doors, and though I hâve never availed
, myself of h before, by Jove ! I will tonight."
His mind goes back to a certain day two years before,
when^hç had in ail probabilily saved Madame Felicia's l},fe,
or at least what was ctf equa^ account to her, her beauty, It
^s the ôld story of ninaway horses— the lady r^scued m '
the nick of time. Madaiiie'r passion for spirited ponies had,
4)0 more ^occasions than one, placed lier prettynect ant^
graceful lii»bs in jeopardy— on this occasion the runawayi
r
m
I ,
'»^
'l
'-m^-
• ►■:.
294 - "-^ BELLE DAt^E SANS MERCir
had become -altogether unmanageable, Ihe reios hâd beei^
jerked from her hatids, and with heads up and eyes flashing
thev had rtished madly along. '■ The gâtes bf a gréât park
, ended the road— if those gâtes were open ji^adame still stood
one chance, if they were closed—she shuddered, intrenid
httle Amazon as she iSras, and sat still as death^and white as
raarble, straining her eyes through the whirlwihd of\dust as "*'
theyflew along. The gark camf! in sight-^the gâtés were
^lûsgj/ It was just at tfet çiomenl/rerry «Deni^sàn, on
horseback, came m view. He toote^ the situation \in an
instant. To a tempt to check the horses in their mad ckreer
^ould hâve been useless now ; they wojild wrench hî» àrms
from the sockets bfcfofe they could be stopped. fle^al-
loped up^hurled himself off his horse.and with the agillty
of a circus rider and the strength of a latter^lay Samsob,
lifted the lady sheer out of the carriage. The horses weiit
headlong at the closed gâtes, shivering the frail phaeton tO\
atoras, and Madame Felicia fainted quietly away in Lieu-^
tenant Dennison's amis. - ♦
That was the story. Terry never made capital of it, but
, the actress di{|. She was profoundly and greatly grateful,-
and to show that gratitude, made every possi^e effort tb cap-
tivate her préserver and break his heart. For bhce she failed.
Mr. Dennison was invulnérable. Ail lier cajoleries, ail her
fascinations, ail her beatrty and cÂic, fell powerl^s on this
big dragoon s dtill sensibilities. He saw through her and
laughed at her quietly irfhis sleevé. What, the deufce did the
lutle, gushing dancer mean makiïig eyes at him? Terry won-
derçd. ^He wasn't an elder son,- he didh't keep an optn
account at Hunt Se Roskell's; hehad neVer given any one a
diaraond bracelet in his life. . She knew it too— then what did
she mean ? It was madaine's way of showing her deep grati-
tudq to the préserver of her life—sjmply that. But for Terry
she would hâve been sraashed to atoms with the phaeton,
toerbeautyruined, her symmetrioal limbsbri»ken, her (occupa-
tion gone. She shuddered. when she thought of i^; death
woul(j^ave been préférable to that Shë was îrateful, deobly
wid truly grateful, and gave Mr. Dennison carte blanche to
«ome and goas he-pleascd-froifrl^encefortlf forevërr If wâr"
>#
J V''
******?as**!?5»i^Ete:s
Ù^h- ,-' MjmiT',
c
1 '
•*I.A BELLE DAME SANS MERCI."
295
a privilège for whîch royalty itself was sighing just then, \n\\~
with the dull ihsens^jjility that had alway« characteriaed hirh^
in^thespahings, Dennison tre^ted it and her with the calmest,
uttereât indifférence. ^Jle, liked her as a dancer, but a^ a
woman, and in privatriife, not any, thahks. Terry did not
go in for dancers. In short kr. Dennison woiild. noi be
numbefed amo% her victims, would not lose Kîsnead for
her; and madame saw and laughed good-naturedty, and
gave it up and respected him accordingly. It would be a •
refreshing novelty to have^a masculine fnend, a friend pure
and simple, who would never be a lover, and so she liked *
Dennison as honestly, as a more honest woman might, and.
still k«pt her doors open to him. Hé came at timçs ,tor,
those pleasant, p«st-oifera suppers, where tfie cleveresl
paihters, the^ most distinguishèd novelists, the 'handsomest
actresses in London were to hëS met, and was ever #armly
welcoraed. :^ ' \
He had known she^lfas inj Paris-- he had not met her for
seven months, but he had not had''the faintest thtention of call-
iôg upoij her hère. And nowhe was whirling along rapidly .
to her romns. Of his welcome from her, at ail times and in
ail place^ he wifis sure ; his welcome from Erk: w^ much
more to thfr point just at présent ; and of .that he was not
at ail sure.
" Hang her 1 " Terry thought, with an inward growl ; .
"^' ha^g ail such confounded little pirates, cruising in honest
watets, and raising the devil whpf èver they go. Still if on?
goes thére at ail, une must be civil, I supppse.^ "
Civil accordingly,' MK DenhisQfi was when ushered info
the gem-like drawing-room jof •^Madame Felicia^
A chandelier, blazing^ like a <mimic sun in the frescoed
ceiling. raadethe room one shèet of golden light. The walls
weré lined with mirrôrs, the windows hung with satin and
lace, th^è air heavy;^ith pastilles. Half-a-dozen elegântly
dr^ssed and exceptionally .handsQoaie- womeo reclined ,
in evejy^ specieff of easy-chair, with attendant cavaliers.
pn a low fauteuil reclined the grcat Felicja herself, robcd
! I* «i . uuujwy ciouQ oi' iranstucenr wnlwt as a rate SlWr
affected costly moires, stiff brocades, heavy velvets j to-night,
.«^s'
y
f^
y.
296 "^^.^^LlE DA3fE SAjfS MEIfCin
' opals glittered about Z and n.f '"' ?'"™*>"^^ -"<!
roses nestled in the deaH w. ^ F^'^' perfumy, yellow
her side. LorJ Dynelv ït "! ^'?"''"^l^ of her hain By
enough. Ail starteS-'and starS'â? L ''""^'^ "^^^^ g^^e
t^p:^i!^ s',%"i€i^L^ -?-r^.î
m season and out of seSon •' P^^ission to visit you
ouPhTha^d XteVi^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^P-Hfc the speaker,
serpents one must be subtie Th. ;.ii l? ^"^ ^«^'« «^^h
and held out Lr hand! She was corS ' f " ^l'^ ^«-^«^
lerry. ^^^ *^<^™'ally pleased to see
" Mr. Dennison knonr<: h*. ;= oi
blu;.'ï;'Si^7»„^™^iJ°" '" Pans, De„„i«,„,.. h.
" To niffhL "»cu aia you corne ?
DeHj,h.edVsen;/trhe'',r„.^î^k"?î. "^^ "^ "^ ^"^
turninï to madame. >= "oi look ? Terry say» gaylv,
«ôwL "' ''°" ='°PP'"«'" Eric ^ ,ai wi.h a
; li4°"" "" '^""« '^"> ™y P-fohag. on ,hirocc«io«.
Then there is a Dau<w> Tk« *_ ,
icTci, searching glance-angry and sus '
tay
■§îk«h.
■^^sii*
»M
-Ic.lJ J<S
"LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCL"
297
picious oif Eric's part — stem and resplved on Terry's. Eric
is the first to turn away, with a shrug, and a slight contemp-
luous laugh. "*■:„<.. *
" John Bull is ubiquitous ! Ga where you will he crops
up when you least expect hira. It is one bf the great draw-
backs of our civilization." -
" Was monsieur at the Vafiétè^Bmight ? '' madame asks,
coquettishly. She is not French,TK she aflfects the^rench
Lmguage as she aflfects ' French cookery, French toilettes,
and French morals.
'* I hâve had that pleasure," Terry responds. «' Madame
îs irrésistible in ail things, but she out-does herself m * La
Sorcière (f- Or.' Shall we see you in it at the Bijou next
Lbndon seasoti ?"
Felicialâtfghs^'oftly. and glances up from under lier black
lashes at Lord Dynely's gloomy face.
" Ah — who knows ? Next London season-^it begirts in a
iiîonth or two, does it not ? but who knows what may hap-
pen in a month or two? One may be a thousand miles
away from your bleak fogs, and easterly winds, and dull
phlegniatic stalls by that time. Mon ami, how sulky you
look," striking Dynely a blow with her perfumed fan. " As
you say in your country-^-a penny for yoiir^thoughts."
"They are worth much more — I was tliinking oï you" he
answers rather bitterly.
" Lord Dynely does me too much honor. Judging by his
tone they must be pleasant. May I ask what ? "
" I was wondering if there will be any Madame Felicia to
enchant lh« sleepy British stalls of the Bijou next season. I
was wondertng if by that time it will not be Her Excellency,
Madame Là Princesse Di Venturini."
She laughs a second time. His angry, jealous tone, which
he cannot conceal if he would, amuses her vastly.
" Who knows? " is her airy answer ; " such droll things
happen ! 1 ara not sure, though, that it would be half so
pleasant They are announcing supper. Mr. Dennison,
win you give nae your arm ? Lord Dynely, the most de-
lightful bf hien, the most gallant of gentlemen on ordinary
occasions, yet falls a prey at times to what 1 once heard a
18*
^h^
*f 7^-^' ■- , (
i-is',.-'
■■V v ^ . ^
<-
? "r^-.
^^^ •^^J?tJ^#_feî%'|f4î^^t.a|
298
"LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI»
And I cannot endure
countryman of his call tke doldrum
people who hâve the doldrums ! "
been known to swear at tinies. But she laughs welîiTis
Xn mT'i '""^"^ points-languidly. sweTt/and vei
often. What her nationality is no one seems exactlv 2^
•mr-sheistf %^'^-^-F--h. Italian.l^aSTèer
man she is not There are people who hint at Yankee ex
traction ; but this madame herself dénies, furiouslv and an
gnly dénies. She bas never crossed the Âtknt "c n her iffe
and never. never ^\\\r She hâtes America. The azv touaz
eyes flash a's she sayà it. She will never play in AmSicTL
The ruby velvet portières were drawn aside, and thevfiled
nbytwosinto the adjoining dining-room. Hère too ihe
light was vivid as noonday, and beneath the mTmic sun of
gasa table ghttered that was a vision. Tall enTrgnes «f
frosted silver, fiUed with rarest hot-house flower^s Eer
glasses of waxy camelliasfrom the greenery of a dTke rtr..?
costhest grapes, peaches and peass ^ ^' '^'^''\
Thel-e was a brief pause in the gay hum of conversation
as they sat down. Felicia's cook was a cLfc^ï^l.
water^his works of art were best a^preciat^ by Slenc? '
*or her wmes— was not everv famoiis c^\Ur ,n p • , • j
under contribution ? nothing' finrwer'ïo'b'm'^'^t uîe
table«f impenal royalty itself. Presently, however the fi^^
lu passed, gay conversation, subdued laïghter, wluy sallies i
bnlhant repartees flashed to and fro. Perhaurof alî S
S:s TsTLn'rs^' ^'^ •^-^^ Srif leir^
t-iever. as a dancer she was not to be suniaMeH—ao ,
uonaiist, she was nowhere. She ate her délicat*, c/r/»;,
«The t^vlT" ^^^•"** ^"' ^p^^'^""^ sX ii^gtdl'r;
at the gay sallies gomg on around her, and watched Lord
^l'JtV T^"""^ "^'^ f mocking^mileTn S?ti^g,
ii^.fflK^*»*''i«*i.» '
'•'ih
P -'' rs '^
4 -*' l * t
••Z^ BELLE DAME SANS AfESCV*
299
hrely silent through ail the bright badinage going on around
hira, his.brows bent moodily, drinking much more than he
ate— a sort of " marble guest'' araid the lights, the langhter
the feasting and the^owers.
Terr/s sudden coming had completely upset him. Sotne
thing in Terry's eyés roused him angrily and aggressively.
Wliat business had (he fèllow hère ? VVhat business in Paris
at ail? Through Ihe unholy glitter, his wife's face rose be-
fore him as he had left her hours ago, pale, patient, pathetic.
Thè tiny knot of roses she had given him gleamed still amid
the blackness of Felicia's hair— Felicia, who, lying back, eat-
mg an apricot, seemed wholly engrossed by her conver-
sation with Dennison. The broad band of.gold and dia-
monds on her perfect arm blazed in the light* Only yester-
day he had given it to her, and now she had neither eyes
nor ears for any one but this overgrown, malapropos dra-
goon,
" Mon ami;' Felicia said to him, with a malicious laugh,
as they arose to return to the drawing-room, " you remind
one of the tête de mort of the Egyptians— wasn't it the
Egyptians who always had a death's head at their feasts as
a sort of mémento mori ;— and the rôle of death's-head does
not become blonde men. For a gentleman whose honey-
moon has not well ended, that face speaks but illy of post-
nuptiàl joys."
"Ah, let l)im alone, madame!" cried Ceci! Rossart, a
tall, pretty, English singer, with a rippling laugh. "You
know what the poet says— what Byron says :
" ' For thinking of an absent wife
Will blanch a faithful cheek.* "
His lordship is thinking of the lecture her ladyship will
read him when he returns home."
"If late hours involve curtain lectures," cried- Adèle Des-
barats, shrilly,"then, ma foi/ milorshould be well used to
.«em by tbis.^ To^^ oertain knowledge, be h»s not b ee n
home before three in the nweoing for the last two weeks."
♦♦Let us hope my Ia<£pâiuses herself weU in his ab
mil"-
^4
,. , . ..^ ^mt: , "^ •H.^i^K*!, J,.3 ,„„„„.„
M
i'
lu»' *
■'i
JOO "Z.4 i?^2z^ Z>^;»fff SAATS MERCiy
sencer exclaimed Miss Rossart, flinging herself into a
Louis Quatorze fauteuil, and roUing up a cigfrette with whL
^ shm fingers-"no difficuUjhing in^u^r belfved Pari^ '
iinc glanced from one to fhe other at'each ill-timed iest
dlrkened ?o? .^"h J '^^ ï"'^ .^^«^- ^--'-"'^ ^^^e
aarkened, too, so suddenly and ominously.that Felicia. not
without tact, saw t and changed the subject at oncf^
. bmg for us, Adèle," she cried imperiously, lying hixu-
nnft ''ï'' '" ''"'■ ^^",°"^^ dormeuse. ''Mr. DenSn hàs
£"ats::,'/r^^;- "^^^ ^°" '^-^^ Mademoiselle nt
"I hâve not had that pleasure, madame.''
Ihe vivacious little brunette went over at once to the
open p.ano, and began\o sing. The others dspeîsed Lm!
?!./ «"'n''- ^".^ P^^y ^^^'q»«- Madame's rooms we?e
the pian^, a deep, angry flush, partly of wine, parti/ of jeal-
oisy, partly of rage at Dennison, partly of a vague rembrse-
fui anger at h.mself. fiUed him. For Terry, madaméc ea' ed
away her biUowy tulle and laces, and madIVoom or W be-
side her, with her own enchanting smile. '
whirrfK"^'^'^'^. ^^°^^ ^'^^ piano -ihimediately opposite
llht f. r'^ f ^ ^ P^"'"''" "^""S' '"^^ broad yelW g T of
hght falhng fu 1 upon .t. It was the picture that had (f J-
ed ^^he furore last May m the Academy. - Hovr the âijît
" J.have always had a fancy, madame," Terrv said doul
mg h.s hand arjd lookinç th^iugh it at 'the pa^fng,' ^°hat^
thewomanin that picture 1s excessively like you. î kvÈr
mav^'stiinL'lÏÏ' ^"^'^Pr'-" -- tLt_/trust I Prve
may , still the hkeness is there— and a very strong ont too
Do you^not see it yourself ? " ^ ^ X
sxnîlï.^^' ^ ^^^'*'" "^^"^ answered, with a slow, sleepy
vou^^'î ^fv toO'.fo'-I^ocksley-Caryll I mean-never sàw
gomg It seeaied and never went near the Bijou." '5
-«ycs, as mey tued themsélves dfeamily on the picture.^^
\-'
, \
••fife.-
^^Î^'ÎéI^ï!*'"-*
.c.-lf^V'"."'/^'' ,r^KÏ.; i^*'*',-ic . -
,-, •%**>**.',.*&*?;
Fè"îssp-":^:^'^«j
-'il 4»
i^ViW- ^ fe^'^c^r""
^-'J^f'T -
f
«Z.4 BELLE DAME SANS MERCI»
301
"He never went to the Bijou— never, saw me there?
You are sure of that ?"
" Quite sure. Told me so himself." ' !
. "Ah ! well, his dislike for théâtres and actresses is natu-
i-al enough, I suppose, considering his past unUicky expéri-
ence. Quite a roiçance that story of his: is it not? Is
shealivestill?" -
rrn^^'" ^^"^ answered gravely, «dead for many years.
KiUed m a railway accident in Canada, âges "*
The sleepy smile has spread to madameMîps. She flut-
ters her fan of pearl and marabout wit» slim jewelled An-
gers. 7
" Mr. Locksiey— I mean Caryll— j*k)mised me acompàn-
lon picture to this. I suppose I/fiay give up ail hope of
that now. I really should like/6 raake his acquaintance •
I hâve aweakness for cleve/people— paintérs, poets, au-
thors— not bemg in the lea^clever myself, yoQ understand.
No, I don't want a comojinient— there is no particular ge-
mus m being a good d<tncer. For the rest," with a faint
laugh, "my face is mf fortune. Where is Gprdon Carvll
r.ow?" / ^
She speaks the niine as though it were very fatailiaFto her
— with an undertonè— Terry hears but does not cpmprehend.
" In Rome, withjhis mother." 1
" Does he ever Jome to Paris ?"
" He is eXpected hère ahnost imraediately, I believe."
"Ah!" she laJghs. " Well, when he cornes, Monsieur
Dennison, fetch hiln some night to see me. Will you? "
"If he will conje. And when he hears you haye wished
it, I ani quite sur^he will," says Terry. V
There is a pause. Madame' s eyes are fixed, as if fasci-
nated, on the picture beyond.
"I présume, after Mr. Caryll's first unluçky matrimonial
venture, he will hardly thrust his head intb the lipn's jaw
ag^in. I hâve heard a rumor~but I can hardly crédit it—
that he is to be married again next May."
" It is quite trtie." \
"Toa gieat heiress— to that extremely handsorae MiM~
Forrester I saw so often with you last seasou ia the nark ?
^m
il
\^T^
m
\
V
«*
^
h.^^'
• •>!#'
1
:+•
1
i
i
fel^'
30^ "Z^ B£I.L£ DAME SAJVS AfEjfc/.*
France's natue on Ma-
Terrybows. He does not rc
dame J elicia's lips. ^
" It is a love-match, I suppose ?"
' A love-match, madame."
weltt fan *ë Lu! "■.1. ^^° "°8'^ '""''^ doM over the
.SsnSp '* ""* '" ^""8" <=la»P 'hat ,he deKcate
"See what I hâve donc'" she lancrhe k^u-
«and Lord Dynelywasgoodeno,mh*^^-' "^'"^'"^ '^ "P '
yesterdav Well i7h Jî^ t j^^ *? ^ive it to me only
HTa; ^\u r, "** '^^^ '*s day— he raust be content "
Sheflingsthe broken toy ruthlessly away. and looks m af
htfr cômpamon once njore. " Does Mitk VnrrJ^rT '
P-C^- Ç,-'7" to Paris in this e^'e^^d' ^^^^^^ —
rhey ail corne together— his mother, Udy Dvnelv ^the
Ca^TV^^ ^^""'^ ^ "'^*^")' M'^^ Fo^resteVand kr
eye^s''?es?ôlr'Lord'n ^1 ^^^ °i ^'""^ ^"^ « «'«t. Her
«*'<
^.^sâu^
:r -^
/
I ' 'n'^*?!
^\
i '"^«i
'z^^''
**LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI."
303
Madame laughs again aad shrags her smooth shoulders.
" And you are sick of the subject 1 Yes, he interesls me
— one so seldom meets a man with a story nowadays — men
who hâve ever, at any period of their existence, donc the
'ail for love, and the world-welUost ' business. Shall we
not call over poor Lord Dynely and coinfort him a little ?
He looks as though he needed it. Très her" sfte looks to*
wards hira and raises her voice, " we will make room ft)r you
hère if you like to corne." >-^
" I shall make my adieux," Lord Dynely aCnsweiS'shortly.
" You are being so well entertained, that it would be a
thousand pitiés to interrupt. It is one o'clock, and quite
tirae to be going. Good-night."
He turns abruptly away and leaves thera. Again madame
laughs, and shrugs her graceful shoulders at this évidence
of her power.
" What bears you Britons can be ! " she says ; " how sulkily
jealous, and how little pains you take to hide it. Why did
not your Shakespeare make Othello an Englishman ? What,
mon ami/ — ^)'ou going too,? "
"For an uninvited guesthave I not lingerèd sufficiently
long?" Terry answers carelçssly, and th^n he hurriedly
makes his farewells, and foUows Eric out.
He finds him still standing in the vestibule, and lighting a
cigar. The night has clouded over, a fine drizzling rain is
beginning to fall, but Eric évidently means to walk. The
distance to the Hôtel du Louvre is not great.
"Our way lies together, old boy," Terry says, linking his
arm familiarly through Eric' s, *' so I eut it short and came
away."
*' What an awful eut, for Felieia," Eric retorts, with aa
angry sneer. " Let me congratulate you, Terry, on your
évident success ; I never.knew before that you went in for
that sort of thin^."
" If by going m for that sort of thing, you mean flirtation
with danseuses, I don't go in for it," is Tenys^eply. " If J
did I should certainly ehoose some one not quite old eiiftusb
==tô bfrflayinother.^-
" What do you mean ? " Dynely asks, savagely.
t *
?%
w*?-
•■%'
.. t
^SVi
'ï*\-
,>•
^-:'-'Ji*^•r«3
304 "/i^ i?^iz^ DAJIf£ SANS MERCV*
the Sun shine7on '' ^""^ '''^ ™°'' dangerous womai
make love ri aZr,^ltL71 '^^ ^"' f^^^« possible^
came to see>^« " ""'^ ^^'■''3' ^^S' quietly. '' l
sorf^psE '"' '^" ^^ ^"-^ ^° «PeClïut Denni-
" ton^'^YTuTrT.:^^^ resolute
faugh 1 of such a San as that I V"** J'"i°"^- J^^'°"^ '
infatuation for her^^onr nJi l .^"^ ï^^ know that your
Paris-the talk of JZn? f •^^"''7^^"-^^ '^^ '^^ o{
A furious oath t Ënv/i; ^iLo^don itreached me."
free. ' Encs answer as he wrenches bis arm .
gifts in th^ lap, and sit at Sfe f ? f ""^V^ile you fling
do not set uu as vo.,r lï ^^^ °^ ^ J^^^^^^l "^e that. I
stand by and^ee ^^ htart hr7t^' ^iî^ nian's-but I will not
can raiïe my'^^T t^tetn? ' 'Eric? iï"^'^^'.' î*^"^ ^
Ihou shalt not covet thy neighbor'rwif^l • îr. ~
Terry, niy virtuous T^m, «,., ..• ', 'e""°'^s wije I My wise
ity, did you ever hear S^7 '^"^ *"^ P*""™ °^^" ™0'-al-
only wronder you took the TZîhu!^ ^ ^'^** Higgins. I
hâve been pl/aban er to hf vl.?. h k u^T" ^°"'^ "» "Ot
S-'^i.*" V
•*LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI.»
305
Good Heav^ I he says, « is this Eric ? If any othcr
mng man had sakd as much, or half as much, I would hâve
knocked him dowfn. But I see how it is ; that devilish §or-
ceress has turned jyour brain. Well— she lias turned stronger
brams, but she phall not make an absolute fool of ySu.
iincl dear old rn^n, l'm not going to quarrel with you, if I
can he Ip it. You\ don't know what you are saying. I pro-
inised htt e Crysta^ to fetch you home in an houn It's aw-
fuUy lonely in that W hôtel for her, poor child, and she was
never used to bein| alone, you know."
His voice softened. "Ah, poor httle Crystal ! " he
thmks, with agréât heart.pang," if yourmarried hfe begins
like this,^ how m Heaven's nanie will it end 1 "
"So!" Eric says between his set teeth, ''she sent you
after me, did she ?-a naughty little boy to be brought home
and whippedl Perhaps she^so told you where to find
me?'
"She told me nothing— nothing, Eric, and you know it,"
Terry answers, sternly. » Is it likely she would discuss her
husband with any one ? It wasn't difficult to find you.
Ihe very street gamins could hâve told me, I fancy, so well
is your new infatuation known, Eric, old fellow, we hâve
been like brothers m the past, don't let us quarrel now.
A^eep clear of that woman— she's dangerous— awfully dan-
éerous, I tell you. She has ruined the lives of a score of
nien-don't let her rum yours. Don't let her break' Crys-
tal s heartr-Crystal, vfhose whole life is bound up in yours.
2l7" *^"<^^POO'" li"le soûl— if you hâve none for your-
Again Eric laughs harshly and long.
^"Hear him, yé godsl Terry Dennison in the rôle
o! parsonl Is your sermon quite ISnished, old boy ?—
because hère we are. Or islthis but a prélude to a few more
to (îorae? How well the patronizing elder-brother tone
cornes from vou— you, of ail men-the dépendant of my
mother's bouBty. She comes to Paris next week-^-what fine
litones you wiU hâve to tell hfer-^whàt éloq uent ler.t..ré.s yn..
=^- prépare, toptM?: Let ,^ tell you this, once'andfoT
Ml, Dennison," he says, wh|^ith anger, hijLjblue eyes
4,'
't '''"^m¥Mimiéb.i^^.^ . •
•4,
'> T' ■ .■■'• ■',' "'■■•i.f '<';^^«v-. -.•^'■ff .■-'.tgyT-^-'--?!«i^r-i''^'t;'rafe^>'»yA"^, ;■'"■ *■" ;^»'T-<-r'\f "■ <wi ii M.i» -'wig*w mr^iw» il l MHi r
/ •«.« " """'"
306 . "Z^ B£LL£ DAME SANS MERCI.'*
De taken to task hy^o raan ahve, least of ail L vou / Le
- îe^'nt': r '"' "' ^'" *' °"^^ ^"^ forever, //S^-you'l!
^ Then he tums. dashes up tbe wide staimay, and Teny ig
^
,»rc
^
«.
7
/
«
.^
1
'
■^
(
*
^
%>
t--
P
«. .
i
^^,
- /
^
•
-"
■/
G
1.
4
%
■#
K
/
■
'
/ .
,
^^
'
.
4
J^
i
—Ts.
. .
.
^
-
-'
. â
-
K<
■/ ' .;'f
«rfe'w?*^ -^1^ ^
Vi
■^S/^tJ-V^^ it V^l
■r
"'i'':^:m
- CHAPTER III.^ f
ÏN THE STRKETS. ^
|ERRY stands for a while irresolute. One by one
hç clocks of the great city chime out the hour af-
ter midnight; a kw belated pedestrians, a few
„: ^.. , u ^^r?^'*- ^^^" P^"s is settling itself for its
night's sleep, but Dennison has no thought of sleepinV I?
Ls of ^lo use mounting to his cock-loft under the eaves in Ws
présent - drsturbed state of niind-sleep and he wilî b^
f^l3av-^f"tt f r'S^'r »^«;Septen,ber-since that event!
mi day i3f the Lmco nshire picnic, when ail that was bright-
^^^h ^^^M'^^^P^o thàt he nmde ïer happy, T^rry
could hâve borne his p^ wit^ patient heroisn» to the end •
bu tto-night, the old. half^healed ^ang contes back sharp and
buter as ever. Only six weeks a bride-six weeks and
^t^^'P^H^ë^d^^re^y-hh brief, hpt fancrdus ' a^
J^es-^Fehcia, the actress, prgferred beforp CVystal, the
"He's a Villain," Terry thought, savàgely «he's wome
than a v}llain--he's a fool^ Yes! b^ JovTl L'^cyLyoy^
hère, a fool of the fourth story." . '
rrSfoi^K^!!"^ r"?, ** ^^^ '^'"^«'^ ^'i^'-e four hours ago
Costal had wistfully sat Lights stiU burned there. wLs .
Er.ctak.ng her to t^sk for what Ar had done-little Cristal,
«?.! S ""^ °"u T' 'P°^« ^ ^^'^^ '^o^d 1 He could no
iTthi^T ''"*' '^' "^^"«^^ ^ ^^ mind-S turned, and
w.thout knomng or caring whither, made his way throueh
the now ahnost silent city streets. ^ mrougn
-^he dnzzfingTÉm thaï hàd begun to fàîr àrmîaHightWiT
fiJling stUl. not heavily, but with'a sniall, scaking^lrS
V,
é^i
308
/
1
/iV TVSr^ STREETS.
where he went, or ho«r faV His "h A°"' ^""^« ''«e%*
Crystal-what shouJd he dd for h. > k«^*\^^'"'^ *»*" ^tJl
no onè knew bettef than tI. u "^"'^nstrate «rith, Eric-
obsdnate opposition ^"^^de Wrn^ '?fV/''^'?i'^ *"^ "«•')
h«m to nu t Paris. h;» l ^ "^ <^"W only induré.
knewhoî litt£Tm,e„S\r™o:Lrr r"^"«' ^'^ Te"^
gratitaion of hfs own fancy was con^"^ "^^ '^'™ ^"^^^^ ^^e
, self |t did not so'much St^r h.r"^'^-^ ^^'^ ^"^ '^•m-
dancer, untiJ his feverish fL!^„ k ^°"^"P<^J^ Ihe dark-<;yed
scores of other feveriiSnclsT^J^'^^^"* ^^ «° "^"X
who was to hecx^Meà^cL^^^ ^^^^ " ^^^ Crystal
love, who drooped iKady like^ bL °r '""^ ''"^ '" ^is
he was breaking as thon^hrii i ?^^" 'l'y— whose heart
Poor, and ail tbat. Even so \ltV }V'^^ «^"erosity to the
«ay spare one victim o'^^^?!^.^;?,'^ «^^ ^^«^"et^e as she is
Jow ,t ,s, tell her of the IZ tll '^"'^r^''' ^^^ 'e» her
hej a.Kl ask her to shu^th'eToo lL\'L'^fr^£ '^ J^'-? ^-
once, 1 remenaber. afr*.r »hoi. ^^^lii '^ told me
favnr T ^u . .' a'ter. tnat runawav rrr^'MM''m^ tit
looked about him. For the firc. 7" u^*."*^^ suddenly and
»»« had lost his w^iY thaT^ht .^^ ^^ became aware thd
t^^ Chili anî afny and"'tt't T "'T*^'"»' ^^^ ^
Reai^e be^tter. As he tnrn^S ^ '°,°?^'" '^^ «^^aced
» eaLw crvnfJ^^^ *'^-^' ^«'"^ and far off
Teny pl.nged in tLT rS.So^^'^?" ^^ ^°"fc' i». .
. *
'ÈÊÊÈ^
he
V*
iâîkJi^ t, îft\là
■\»^
, ,ftm,âVfiut'
loming.
pockets
eediew ,*i
i» ir
Eric— .
Uttfl»])
induce
Terry
!re the
c him-
>end a
c-çyed
niany
■rystal
in bis
heart
care-
1 last
they
3 the
he is
Iher
s for
I me
any
id I
ucn
and
hat
t it
ced
off,
leii
In. .
■^^^*%-
/AT THE STREETS.
■^C-i
•S.-
309
W
The cry was-repeated, nearer this tfme— a shrill, sharp cry
of affright. He made for the sound, turned a corner, ànd
found hijnself 1n a narrow^dark street, high house» frowning
on either hand, and a wonian, flying, parttiog, and cryinc
ont, wîth two men iil hot pursuit. - ^
'• Hallo !" Dennison cried, sending Ws sWong,.4iearty,
Eoglish voice through the empty, silent 8treet,i?* what the
deuce is to pay hère? " , , .
With a shriti scream of delight the iflying figure madé for
him and clutched his arm, panting for breath. v
" Oh, sir, you are English," she gasped, iiH^iat language :
" save me from those horrid men ! " ^ - t:^
Terry passed his right arm around her. One of %.tne%
a beetle-browed, black-bearded Frenchman, caB^e insolently
up, and witljôut further parley Mr. Dennison shot out his^
left in the most scientific nianner, and laid him on tbe pave-
ment. His companion paused a second të see his fellow's
fate, and then precipitately fled.
; "And unlesà we want the gendarmes to conie up and
Pârch «s to the station, we had better foUow his example, I
think," said MLiDénnison to hfs fair friend. \ ■
He looked down as he spoke with some curiosity. -Aa
Englishwoman alono'and belated at Ihis hour, in the street»
of Pans, was a curiôkity. The ligbt of a street lamp fell ful|
upon her. A woman I why, she wâà a child, or little better^'
a sinall, dark, elfish-looking objçct, w1ih two wild black eyes
set in a minute white.fece, and a dishevelled cloud of black
' hair, falling ail wet and di^ordered over her shoulders. "
"Who are you?" wm Dennison's first astounded ques.
tion.
The wild black eyes lifted themselves to his face — two
small hands clutched hl* arm tightly. Where had he seen
eyes like those before ? ^>
"Oh, «ri don't leavc^^, please I I am so afraid I it is
Bolate."
•' Late I Egad, f should think so. Rather late for a IktJe
gu-1 to be wandering the streets of any city, French or Eng-.
Jahr _ YoiLii» n liftle gjgl, arcn't yo u ?" doub tf ul ly.
%
y-s-<
%
i-
^.
■^ ^f
"I am aixteen years and six months — and I didn't want
-\*
'^^ ,
'^^
f^ry^, S^;X<^\ >''^l§^
hftf'-*
Jio
fJV THE STREETS.
7X'
fr--
?'tH' ■
,4f\
to wander the streets. I lost mv wav» »o» *u
somewhat angrily given. ^ ^' ^ ^^^ *"'^"'
"Whoareyou?"
" I am Gordon Kennedy." .
"And howr do you corne to hâve lost your wav if T m»,
ftsk, Miss Gordon Kennedy ? " ^ ^' " * "^^
,The big black eyés lifted tHemselves again to his face in
" W "5: 'S^^*"'"! '^'^J'"^- E^i<î^"tly the gaze wasrSssur
. ms arm. liut again Terry was nonpiussed— z»/i^rij haH hï
seen some one like this before ? ^ "*
swëred^'^Th a"'" ??otland-from Glasgo<»r." the girl an-
the train tp-nfgft. I hâve .ef^littir^'oney/hl^^^^^^^^^
fo^ in^t°i^^ '?°"«^ '° try and find the person I wSon
«w?îi ! " *"'*.°" î '* fi^®^ dreadfuUy late ; I thoueht T
woud stay ,n a church porch until morning out of thefa n
lowed anTsaotT'""* 'T °°^' ^'^"^^ *-<> dreadîîl men fôu
lowea and spoke to me. I ran away and they oursued V
. ^ceamed for help and you caîne. And I ^^ve^ ;erJ
much «bhged to you sir," concluded Miss GordoS^'xen^
fclr'" -^-'^. upward.grateful glaTcrofth"
" And how do you know whether I a* anv better than fh«
two men you fled fn>m ? " Terry asked. wkhVSSSaugS
J n^' f' J° r "^ ^"S''^»^' *"<» yo" hâve a good face I
zT^t'ârkr ''' '''' ^"^'^^^^^^ -^•^' --"p-
" Thank you," Terry said, stiU lâuehinir • "it i«. th« k; t.
est compliment ever paid me in^ liVe WelL mIJ
w whS'shflïf i ^K y^V^^i convenient church porch!
on àtî.?«" L ? '^**' >'?" ^ ^^«" a church porch in P«S
yoimg lady of sixteen. Where shall I take yoù ? "^^ *
y^ii.
!a»f«:î,î^iâ£Ê»bî^
,,^S'^^ .yr^r'^^^'^^^'^W'^^l^'.
a' f 1
/J\r THE STREETS.
311
" I don't know," the girl answered, with an air of anxious
distress. •« If it were not so late, so dreadfully late, I might
try to find her. Tell me, sir, are ail the théâtres closed yet ? "
'♦ Closed two hours ago. You don't think of exchanging
the church porch for a théâtre, do you, mam'selle ?"
** Don't laugh at me," she returned, with asudden flash of
the black eyes ; " there's nothing to laugh at. I want to
find a person who belongs to a théâtre— a lady.^n actress.
She plays at the Varieties."
"At the Varieties?" Terry repeated, a little startled.
The flashmg bràck eyes had once more discomfited hira by
theu- resçmblance to other eyes he had somewhere seen. " I
knpw some of ^he ladies who play at the Varieties. May I
ask whatis^h«rname?"
" It i* Madame Feliqia."
They i^ere walkiiïg swiftly along through the rain. At
thèse words Dennison suddenly stood still. The girl looked
up at him in surprise. Again, by the glare of the street
lamps, that strange, striking resemblance flashed upon him.
Madame Feîicia I Why, this child was sufficiently like
Madame Felicia to be her own daughter. Well— Terry sup-
pressed a whistle, and still stared blankly down at his little
companion. >
" Wel V she cried, impatiently, « what is it ?— Why do you
iook at me so ? Hâve I said anything strange ? Do you
know," with a sudden glow of hope, "Madame Felicia?"
" Corne on," was Terr/s answer ; " you'll get your death
standmg hère in the rain. Do I know Madame Felicia ?
Well— a little. Do you know her ? " *^
" No."
" You don't ! Then, why— if I may ask— "
rrhe dark eyes look ûp at him again withanother pétulant
flash.
"No, you may not ask ! I can't tell you. I want to find
Madame Fehcia— the actress who plays at the Varieties.
That is ail I intend to tell you. I hâve corne ail the way
from Ql asgpwalone lo find her. Imust find her~tn.n jght.
-^n^it nossiblè; Shéîs the only fiiend I hâve in the world. Ôhi
sir, you hâve bccn very good to me. You bave done me a
\,
"ft*f
,'tt\!è^^'#'^
W^&;^})f'^'
^nt uMim. •«•
,, ."f/--^»'"^^ •
312
IN THE STREETS.
^r
'r
t '•'
i'
J-v,
'♦'
\ great setvice— I know you hâve a kind heart ; take pîty on
me and, if you know her, take me to her."
*Does she expect you ?" Terry asked, staggered.
" No, sir, slie does nol ; but ail the same she wUl take care
Of me."
" You are quite sure of that ? "
" Quite sure, sir."
" Hâve you ever met Madame Felicia?" -' *
';Never to remember her, but l know what she is like.^^*.
It is a great many years since she came to see me.*T We
hved m Canada then." "
♦«We — whoni^"
" Joan and me. Joan is my foster-mot^er, and she is
dead. But I hâve no right to tell you this. I won'i tell
you ! " with a child's impatient pétulance again.
'rw, " ^°" speak of Madame Felicia visiting you in Canada,"
Terry went on, taking no notice of the brief outbreak of
anger; "you must make a mistake, mademoiselle. The
Madame Felicia I know was never in Canada in her life "
" Look hère 1 " cried the girl, excitedly. She disenga^ed
her arm, and produced a photograph from the pocket of
her dress. " Look at this ! Is your Madame Felicia anv-
thmg hke this ?" '
They pause again— again beneath a street iamp— and he
looks at the picture. Madame Felicia, sure enoueh— to
the hfe— a soflly tinted, perfect likeness.
"Well?" the girl impatiently demands. He hands it
back and looks at her with strongest curiosity.
*• That is my Madame Felicia. There is but one such
face as that on earth. And, I repeat again, she never was
in Canada."
«.«r.^"? ^ ""^P^^' ^^^ «""/" she flashed out angrily.
• Why do you contradict me ? I know bettet I It is yery
inapohte ! She aw in Canada ! she was I she was I She
lived there— I was born there — "
She paused. In her excited véhémence she had betraye*.
nerself. She clasped hçr hands and looked up at him wildly
%i\I,
.■T.
'Smbi^siÈmatAL
*>'*%a2K
n ,•»"■.!» .*"„'»:
w
/-^
^^r THE STREETS.
313
"No, of course Ut," Derinison responded, unable tore
press a smUe. Whlt a child she evidenti; was, wSt a
passionate, excitable,! wilful child ! *•, wnat a
«It?hf S"^. ""^ ^^fi^''" '•'^ *^"^^' '^^'^ ^ sort of sob.
»:,« f ° i^^^'- f ""^r' so wet ! I never was ont at this
She sighed bitterly a^d clutig to hîm, looking about at the
unfemihar scène, her ^yes^ dusk with bewilderment and
fl,J'^°*" was your motlier?" Terry insinuated : «no. bv
thebye, yourfoster-mother?" "", oy
" It does not matter to jou what she was I " retorts Mîss
Kennedy, wuh a sudden return to sharpness. «' TO m
take me to Madame Felicia, or will you not ?-there 1 " ^
• ^y **^,^'" child, Madame Felicia will be in bed."
bhe wiU get up when shë hears who I am. Oh ! please
toke me to her house-only to her house. She^l R
« wï ^\ *^t^ '^'■^ °^ ttie when she hears who 1 âm."
rll aI^'';. PfT"^t^' Pï^^ing. «Ptumed faceUt thf
large, dilated black eyes. "^ was in Canada, and you
were born therel There is a story in the past, then; C
madame keep<i as a sealed book. I always thoiX so-I
m^X ey"f."' '''"' '^^ "^ '"^ ^«' ^^^«^^^ a3^ ?hai
_ " Will you take me to her-iay?" cried the girl, gîvintf
his arm an angry, impatient shafce, "or are you a 4cked
man after ail like the Frenchman you knocked do^T''
sort of "Stvfn Mff ^ " 7"? """P* W' ^*"«^''^«' »«<» ^^it»* a
.ÏLr iw?i ^ " ,*"' *^* ?■■ ^'^'^ unsfïÂisticated ?hUd. « My
mi J" 5 ^J'î ^°- y *"* *^^ iP^ation of every do-
mestic and Christian virtue, an(J ï will Iake you to M^àme
Felicia instanter. We are near her bouse now-I only ho^
she wiU take you m. If she itiU not, some ône dse ST
had fa llen into other hands." i~»«" wuiu
S!ï^^!:^;tl?i5sî^?î^«*^^^^^
Ittely shiken a littte, grtteful «queeze.
14
' 1
.'^
■:I1
i>^7
t. Cl". ' t., .". .. ->fâi'
- . . 314
■A
ï».
■>•
■'*jt.UL.^I
-f'
IN THE STREETS.
T 1, » ." f ^°°^- ,.^*'" ^^^'y ï '^as so cross with you, but
I hâte to be contradicted. She wiU take care of me : don't •
you be afraid, and she wiU thank you too. What is your
- •* Terry, mademoiselle."
" Terry what ? "
nJJ/"^ Dennison; and yours you say is Gordon Ken-
neay ? An odd name for a young lady."
fh-* ï^ '^"i' '* •* ®".' ^''^ ^°'"^°" ^as after my father, and
S^rforlU^ ^"^ J°^"- J--^ âlways^alled me
J^'Ia^I ^/?u ^^^ "^^^ M^^"" J*^*"' "^^ '*' •* That's odd too.
Had your father no other name than Gordon? Was that
his family nanife ? " *vds inai
KenL'ï^'/r ''°"^'^?'u ^'m,'" ™^"y questions !" was Miss
don KennÏÏ^ ""5°ï*^ *^ ^^ questions. My name is Ôor-
Tl Tî ^' *°'*, ^ ''*"* *° g° t° Madame Felicia-that's
enough for you to know." '
« T 'ifiîfl yt""" P^*"^»»' mademoiselle," Terry said, laughing ;
Felica'l Jndïl?; I^o°'t.offend again. Heré we aret
ouSe at\. il^ •? ^'5 •'"'"•'"«f r^- Stand hefe ; I will in-
quire at the loge if madame is to be seen."
hnlH J^ '^ ^î"" ^"ï hastened to make inquiries. The house-
an 1. î^^™^ ^^^ "°* ^"* retired-madame's chasseur, in
f 3 V ^t^' ""*' prpduced. who in voluble French de-
tlwt hoir ""^^ ^ impossible to disarrange madame at
«ië,^a^LT.!?'"/.K "^^^'" I?ennison said, authoritatively ;
I w^ex^ptr to°Ver'""^""^* ""P^^^*^^^ *° "^^^^"'^ h--'^'
bacïr^j'w^îtinï pr4r™™ '^^^•"" '"*^"^'
fhJi^tr ^°" *"ythmg-anote,a token tosend to madame
MpSd^'°''*' ^"'^ ^^"^'^ ' ^* '^ °°* «^« yo" «'se»" »>«
The girl produced froro her pocket » smaU seoled oadceL
and put i t confidendy in hig ha^ *^^
=*lïHnr ^i»e me tifti Dé^e shç 4îe4" sfcç said. "She"
j-^ „
^f
IN THE STREETS.
aiready retired-she r™,îî .T"" " '"'"'• Madame hid
. W^W'nadaiMreceive^^JOr^ .7°ï ** " "'"
^»'„".e. Oh, if she Toe,' rori^'wi,! tco«
The maid «lura(^ c,,rii-, '^•"'T* ""= "oman now."
her ftce. ""^ «"««y painted on every featnre <rf
U,';'n,'^:,SS'on°ï^.?"'"*"- ««■->-"« wa.
ne Drefiis#^ fK^ lu^i i« *
•B '"'"«' ««"Mat a rapidpace for hishotet
vï*ï
ML
't«
^J '^r^.^$r •
'^^m
Si'
Ai
V
516
^ m '^^'^i^l'-^- 'r..^vCî%^i#;o-<^-'^f
/AT TffB STREETS.
" Sô I " he thought ; " an odà adventure, surely ! I seem
destined to- be mixed up in Madame Feliciâ^s aifairs. Will
shte be gratefui, or the reverse, for this night's work, I won-
der ? Tbat girl's matemity is written in her face — althougH;
of course» ^e might be Ê'çlicia's sister. 1 wish I could get
a hold upon her of any sort, yes, of any sort, that would
make her hear to reason about Dynely. Corne what niay,
I don't car^ how, M must be freed froni her thralL"
He had reached his hoteL It was past two now. Bot few
lights bumed — Eric's rooms were in darkness.
Rather fagged, Tehy made his way to his own sky-parlor,
and soon forgot his first eyentâil' Pari» eveniog in sound,
fatigued slsep. . '
^
r
\ i
, V
....t
"*^
*;^>
iP* ■ *>•■ ^ ^ '« ,-
yr'itU'^^^
CHAPTER IV.
DONNY.
^•*.^
W-5
IlIE departurç of Lord Dynely and Dennison waa
the signal for the departure of the rest of madame'*
guests. Half an hour later and thé lights were
fled, the garlands dead, and Felicia was alone in
her own pretty, rose-hung, gas-lit drawing^room. She lay'
back in the soft depths of her fauteuil, a half-sraile on her
lips, too luxuriously indolent as yet even to make the exer-
tion of retiring. The picture " How the Night Fell " was
thé object upon which her long, lazy eyes rested, while that
well-satisûed smile curled her thin red lips.
" So he is coming," she was thinking ; " and he is to be
mariled. To be marn'ed to France FtttTester, one of the
very proudest girls in England, as I hâve heard. She knows
ail about my story, no doubt. And she thinks, and he thinks,
and they ail think, I was killed in that'railway accident so
many years ago. Her mother was a French Canadian ; and
she is of her mother's religion, so they tell me ; and even if
her pride would permit, her religion would forbid her to
mamr a man who is the husband of one living divorced wife.
And tJtiis) then, is the form my vengeance is to take after ail.
I hâve wondered so ofterf, so often — it seemed so impossible
my ever being able to reach hinij my ever being able to
make hira suflfer one tithe of what he has matle me. But,
*I hâve him otf the hip' now. Through his love for
this girl I will stab him to the heart. I will part thera
and stand between thêta— ay, even if I hâve to make my his-
tory patent to the world. If I h*ve to confess to Di Venturini,
to whom I hâve lied so long. I will prevent his marriage il
I hâve to do it by the forfeit of my own."
^^ySie laiiied « moment to^roU np and lîg^t x rose-a
cigarette^ her face clouding a little at her own thoughts^
i^-^X.
'-'.&.^*«.k
.v45^
318
PONNY.
V
V
-Si ">
^
" It will be a sacrifice too, if I should hâve to make things
publie, to confess to the prince. He knows nothing of iny
past llfe, except the pretty little romance I invented for his
benefit. At my worst he believes me to be an outra-
geous caquette with more head than heart, not in the least
hkely to be led astray by the tender passion, and with no
false pride to stand in the way of my accepting costly prés-
ents. Indeed^i ip the very fishy state of the prince' s ovra
exchequer sîftce I hâve known hita, the diamond bracelets,
etcetra, were uot at ail obnoxious in his siglit" She lifted
her dusk, lovely arm, and Jooked with glittering eyes
»' Jhe broad^ band of yellow gold, ablaze with brilliants.
" What a fool that boy lordling is I " she thought, contenip-
tuoBsly ; " so great a fool that there 4s really no crédit in
twisting him round one's fingek And he has a bride of six
weeks' standing, they tell me— neglected and alone for me*^
at the Louvre. Ah ! thèse brides 1 " with a soft laiigh.
"She is not the first whose bridegroom hàs left lier to spend
the^honeymoon at my feet. He is a relative of'jCaryll's,
too. WiU his neglect of her, and besotted admiration of
me, be another dajgger to help stab hirn? ïf there were no
bracelets-in question I think that motive «rbuld be strong'
enough to make me hold fast."
She flung away her cigarette and began abruptly drawing
off the many rich rings with which her Angers were loaded.
On the third finger of the left hand, one— a plain band of
gold, wom thin by time — ^alone remained— the only one she
did not remove. She Ufted her pretty, dimpled brown hand,
and gazed at it darkly. X \
"I wonder why I hâve wom you ail this time?" she
mused, "My wedding ring! that for sucteen years has
meant nothing— less than nothing. And yet by day and by
night, I hâve wom you in memory of that deàd time —
of that brief five months, when I was so happy, as I hav« ;
never jn the hours of my greatest triumph, been happy since.
Di yenturini sàys it is not in me to love. He is in Ipve, poor !
little oïd idiot 1 If he could hâve seen me then ! " ,
, iHieavily^inber iap, she sighed drearf lf.
"How happy I wasl how I did love th^t manl what
t^^MÂM
u.
4 'Ss.-jA..i^Jfi.4' %i^ *<*<!
- -4,
,'"31
DONNY.
319
a good woman î lïiight hâve been if he would hâve but for»
given and trusted fne. But he spurned me, he drove me to
desperation, to dekth nearly. What did he care ? I vowed
my turn ^ôuld cotpe — for sixteen years I havs waited, and it
has not. But the longest lane has its turnihg, and my hour
is nov^^^' \
Sbe arose and Walked up and down, her 0oating muslin
a^ laces sweeping behind her. Once she jJaùsed before the
picture, leaning oyer the back of a chair, and looking up at
it with a curiou» sjnile.
. " What an agoniized face he has painted," she said softiy ;
"whjit anguish and despair in those wild eyes. Did I
.^reallyxlook Hke that, 1 wonder ? and what was there in him
thàt I should weir Ihat tortured, face for his loss. Good
Heaven ! if it copies to that, what is there ili ahy man ihat
women should go;mad for their loss or gain — selfish, reckless
fools, one amd ail! Even he is ready tô paint his own folly
and madness of the paât, to make monèy of it in thê
présent"
She tumed away with an impatient, scornful last glance
and slowly left the room. Up in her own chatuber, she rang^
for her maid, and with a ^wn resigned herself into her hands
for the night.
*' If I can only make it ail right with the prince," she
mused, as the Frencliworaan brushed out her thick, black
hair. "I don't want to lose him, particularly now, as he has
corne to his own again. Madame la Prince^iic Di Venturini 1
My faith! a rise in life for the little beggarly smger of the
New York concert hall, for poor old Major LoveU's acconi-
plice, for Gordon Caryll's cast-off wife. No, I must not lose
the prize if I can, and he is most horribly jealous. Let the
truth reach hiui — that I hâve had a husband, that I bave a
daughter, and much as he is infatuated, I really and truly
believe he will throw me over."
Her thoughts wandeted off into another channel, suggested .
by the incidental reniembrance of her daughter.
" What shall I do with the girl?" she th ought, "now
Thàt Joïn is dèàd. àiid, Joàn's boor bf a husband dôéfiiôr
want her. H« wfll be sending her to me one of thèse dayi
-TÏ1
C
V,..
■i
r^
r
"4-'J
,..tÊé^--
1
\
\^ •
"M-
320
r
^oAwr^
~\
tf I do not take car#» t ~. . "^ ^ y-
rose-curtMned bed wS.n7k ™ '"^ <9>d lioen of th»
impossible' to ™o„SfïhiT''*"lr°«"»-y'>ng-.e wa,
Wy wieh him, who insisted S w ™'> »°d a young
Canttbe possible M. isïfreS^-^.?^^^^^^ J°^'« writiog i
but the dusfc co^plxioTL i"f ^' ^^^^ ^o >Srn Lie
woman on her. "Sh?w l^r^p^fc^^^,«3^«s of the waiting
*^^"ng; I way needyou^' ^ ""^ *'"*'^' «"^ ^a« un-
thr^nj^^rssllï^^^^ Felicia,
Jerfeet into slippil Lt A,wn t."'«''^.™t^* ^^ thrusting
daughter, ^^ ^ ^' ^^'^^ *«> a^ait the advent of her
■It WaS tWO o'clorlr mk-* t ^
Dénnison, of all^enT wJaTdST '°"".' «"^ ^'^^ Teny '
p-1 corne to be in Paris at aîl fnH "w^^u^ «°«^ ^id the
her, now that she waThere ? ^lî ^^? ''^^^^'^ «'^^ ^o ^ith
î'i
'^'^:f-k
ssr
ffîfe,«:
■■:r%i
DONNY.
321
«onate CTeatare, whom lovealone could rule, upon whoni dif
îST«ia% s«d "lia "^ "^'"^ 'T^^ nbwïz t
«kJ J« ^u u if T. .^"^ "°^ s^« ''as hère. Whajt slumlà
inn No ï^*""' ^ ^^ ''^^ trutheeached the ears of Di Ve^r
win the girl over by kmdness, by pretence,of affection, and
And then the dooropened, and Pauline ushered her ih
I^ot^" «stant there was silence while mother and dauSiter '
Se~S,e m^h^r •^'""- ^ ''^'l *^*'"« contrastTer"
maoe—the mother m her mature and well preserved hMiifi/
faSt L '^?^^ ^^'"8 indôlently back inher cha&, th§^-'
lamphght àtreammg across her rich dark beauty. ' The
<^ughter dAggled and wet, her black haird^Sed he! «
"Corne hère, child," sàid the soft silky tones of Felicia.
«nJ on^;^'**^''*"?^' **^''^*'^ *ha' half-shy, half<kfiant air '
and attitude ready to be humble or^fierceat aiiioriien?»-
notice. Madame stretched forth her hand. drew her to heV
and kissed her cold, thin cheek. ^^'
" You are Gordon Kennedy ?"
" And you are my mother 1 " Z"
T^f^nMî'fi'^LÎ^ answer with a certain défiance stiU-pre-"
paredtofightforhernghtstothe death. * ^
secre?"and mil ^ m""^ "^'^ ^^ ? """^ ^ "'^ '^ yo« '
secret and mme. No one knows it hère— no one niust
rnoTaï^^tr-^ ' '^^ *^"*^^ ^°« ago.'^^ttu
herc.» ^ ^^"'^ ^ '"'°'' ' J°*" '"^ "^ eveiythlng. Look
„r?î;^ ï^^^ VP .^f 8Ï«ve, and showâd on the upiier part
ofherannUiemitials"G.C."inIndiaink. • * ^
TOtfsent her awày and did it yoursel£" /«"«=««»^
^i
1'-
A
£'
------—. -..», «uu utu H yourseii.
I remember vety wdl," Felicia aaid» stiU saMling, stiU-*
i^Sid.j *ai <■ < . , ^ .,.1 T,""^SW> .^i'
;y
Lr>. 'i
#
%
(fi*
r
é ■
■|.
hjMiDg the girPs cold hand. « My child, how chill you are
J^ir li^^'^' "' *^°*"V °" ^'^'^ hassockand tell me how
ana m charge of Mr.- Penniso«" ' '
Gordon, Kennedy obeyed. The défiance was Rraduallv
îSvenSe oHhf n.7t''*'°^""' ^^^^'^'^^ ^»»*^ -^^-^ •^^
^.V^^'*3 rSÎÎT Glasgow," she said, boldly. «Joan
open It f^ a hotnd gash^' said this young virago, with a
then, and I came hère.. I, had some money ; Joan gavéit
?aTLx>^^ some yet, and might hâve taken^ câb when
1 got to Pans as well as not, and gone to your théâtre, but
I aS 7'^ '?^''"«^î and dazzlfng, the shops so sple^didr
I thought I would walk. I was a fool for my pains I
^ t know what would hâve happened, only Mr. Dçnnison
came. Ah, I hke Atm~he was awfuUy good "
w.l^"î '""S^^' surely, child^^you did ndt tell him who you
7^tL '"r^.'î'^ "*«^<*'>" *^<>"'or, as she listeiied to this out-
«poken confession.. -*
«I told him ^nothing," Gordon answered, proudly. "onlv
my^name, and where I came from, and how I got lôst, and
that I Mranted to find-you. He said he knew you, aud would
take me to yOu, and hère I am."
"It is thè most éxtraordinary thing I ever heard of " •
■ JJi ' ""♦ certainly not. Why, child, will you be anjrrv
jnth^me, your own mother?" madame said, m her sugarest
«,J!iy**"^°°'' ^?°y ""^^ S^^ *<> see me, if you are my
«nothyr, " retorts Miss K ennedy, sulkUy^ ^ «c my .
~^You hâve surorised me sotouch; don'tyou se^andj '
î -
:•■'./■
*.
DONNY,
m
don't want ît known that you ar^ my daughter. It would be
a veiy bad thing for me, And croate no eig4 bf talk."
" You are gshamed of me, I suppose ? " the young girl
cried. " I knew you would be. You are a fine lad/, aud I
am— yes, look at me. I am a misérable, draggle-tailed oli-
ject, am I not ? " '
"What a temper you hâve," raadanie said, still smiling,
still holding her hands. " Don't speak so loudly. I aiîi not
in the least ashamed of you. Propejrly dressed yoù will be
quite like me."
The black eyes Ht. -^V %|
" Do you think so," eagetty ; " JoatTàl^ays said l was like
you, but you are so beautiful, and J am so thin, and blâck,
and pale. You wil) let me stay with you, then, will you ? "
"Certainly— that is for the présent. I think I shall send
you to school. You would like to go to school, would you
not, Gordon.- By the bye, I would rather nqt call you that."
" Joan called me Donny." .
" Donny be it, then. I will dress you properly- and send
you to school, and you are not to say a word— no, not a
whisper — about our relationship. You can keep a secret, I
think, by your face."
"Try me," the girl said,"proudly. " Fd die before l'd tell,
if I promiséd not."
" And you do promise. It would never do for me, Donny,
at least not just yet, to acknowledge you. People hère do
not know I ever was married."^
"If you wish it— yes, I- promise," the girl said, a wistful
light m the great eyes. ,
"Then for the présent you shall remain hère— for afew
days, that is. You shall sleep in niy dressing-room, and I
will tell my maid and the rest that you are niy cousin — ^yes,
a cousin fromScotland. And now, as it is late, andhav«
heen travelling and are tired, I wiltsee you safely in bed
myself?' ' ' aJ
" And may I see him again— the gentleman who was «i» '
ll°g^to nate?" the girl asked, o nj y h al f saa sfied after ail. — ^
"Mr. Dennison? Oh, well— yes— I suppose so. Tell
•iH
/
•-\,^-fi
*v,-
%
Um,youf are a dousin, and I will iodorse your stora.'
'if4^
\'Sf'Ç.^Sf^^^'4
%
imt^
's
....y 1 '
'"«m^T '^ "t ws-fj- ^f«^ ». .«93.' ,tj- y jy Tat.
... • : ( ^ i-'
5V *
324
PiWNY.
«I hâte lelling lies," Donny muttered, rather suUenlv • h.,i
madame prudently took no notice In STr ™ -^i u
*.nHîn„^ y * ''^''y unexpected and rather disai?reeable
must L mt Jï'r"î """r «• Contretemps will Sr^aSd
ïhei we^în the folf f^- ^t?"™" had'reached tha âge
€
T
>
•V-~. * "713
-^^V,
"'.^^^/•^«■^J
4^:y'
CHAPTER V.
WHAT LOVE'S YOUNO DRSAM SOMmMES COMES 10.
|T is twelve o'clock, more or less, by ail the docks
and watches of Paris— high nooii by the broad
brightness which is pouting a flood of golden
light through the blue silk curtains, over the glass,
and silver, and china of a dainty breakfast-table set for two,
over two blonde English heads— Lord and Lady Dynely.
They are breakfasting tête-à-tête, and in profound silence.
Hi« lordship hides a very sulky, dissatisfied and conscioui
face, behiûd that day's Moniteur. Her ladyship, on the
other side of the big shining urn, droops over her teacup,
pale as the dainty cashmere robe she wears, with blue eycs
that look jaded and duU from want of sieep. She has not
slepf ail nigîit, and it tells upon her not used to " tears
o' nfght instead of slumber.** In the garish nioming sun-
shine, the prétty little face looks wofully wan and pite-
oas, poor child, and lie sees it ; how can he fail to see it,
and is in a fine rage with her and with himself in conséquence.
No words hâve passed between them'conceming last night
—no words as yet. That pleasant conjugal debate is still to
corne. He had found her feigning sleep, the tears undried
upon her cheeks, so peachily plump only five weeks ago
— then like the heatt of a blush rose— now paler than the
palest lily. This moming only monosyllables hâve been ex-
changed, but the tug of war is to come, and although he
dreads it horribly— as he 4reads and hatea ail things unpleas-
ant to his own super-fastidious selfishnes»— fais lordship
\\aow% down the paper at last and begins.
«* I w i ppoBe> ' hfi j a yi ^ja^ a^ yoicft i x e Mer not- ta-xeode t^
^Msh, but «iiich tf, " I suppose you know Dennison cam»
last night ? Ck>nfounded meddling prig ! l sv^poie yoa
4f
4"H
S
\^
Kt-
f#.
326 ftrffATLOyrs YOUNG DREAM COMES TO.
know, or will know, he foUowed me, and tried to play par-
son for my benefit. I wonder now I did not knock him
down for his impertinence-I will, by Jove, if he tries it again.
1 liope, Crystal, you did not send him ?"
- She shrinks and shiyers away at his tone— at his words.
«e sees it, and the stmg of remorse that follows and tella
K. ' *'''^? 'S * ^'^je» hardly tends to add to his good-humor.
^ ' r*'' y°" ^^^ •*^'» ? he angrily repeats.
She hfts her eyes for an instant to his irritated face, then
.i^ ?ff *?'' shnnking into herself more and more.
^' u *jr ^^"i.Jî° °"^'" ^*^^ 'answers, in a voice sô lowas to be
; nardly audible.
L* ' ♦»,« ^u'''" S"*^ ^^.^' '" * gnimbling tone. « You sa^ him
%^ though. Hewashere?" . ^
fc " He was hère — yes."
ê "' ' i t'A ^°^,^'^ *e ^^^"^ SO well where to find me then ? I
Il y V°",î "^^^ 8°'"S ^^ <^'°e ^"'i some fellows at the Caft
w;^ ue "ans. .
Ti," ^^l ^?" .*°'^ '?^" '^^ repeats, in the same faint voice.
1 hen she look? suddenly up at him and her blue eyes flash.
'^ uV^'i!- *° ^^^ *^^^*''^' ^"^'" she says, boldly.
t ^« 7f°f^^~L' 'P astounded is Lord Dynely that the'last
^ Word fails on his lips.
;„ *i ^** ?f theatre—yes," Crystal goes on quickly and gasp-
mgly «1 wanted to go~it wasn't his fault, poor fellowJl .
asked him to take me—I made him take me."
"And may I ask," says his lordship, with labored polite-
ness, and turningquite white with anger, " which théâtre you
honored with your préférence ? £gs Italiens, no doubt ? "
We went to the Varieties. We saw that woman. We
sawyo»,' she answers in the same gasping tone.
His hps set themselves with slow, intense anger— his blue
eyes gleam with a dangerous light.
T *A ^^ ^7 /^ womân I Be more explicit, if you please,
Lady Dynely. You saw what woman ? " ^ ' »' '
"That actress. That wicked, painted, dancing woman.
And we saw you. You threw her the flow«»rft T
She wore them ih her bain Ànd then you ^^ITSb box
•f
♦
IVJlAr LOVETS YOUNG DREAM COMES TO. 327
But Crystal can say no more.. At the» recollection of
his looks as he bent over that woman, she breaks utterly
down, covers her face and bursts into passionate weepjng.
He is white to the lips now-^white wîth an anger that has
soniething quite deadly in it. She is his bride but six weeks,
and she sits yonder ^obbing her heart eut, but he never soft-
ens or relents. Who is to gange for us <Jf the capabilities of
evil that are within us? AU his life Lord Dynely had been
taken by superficial*observers for a kind-hearted gentleman,
free of hand and larçe of heart, who would not willingly
injure a worm — ail- his life he had taken himself to be a
good-natured fellow — tender-hearted, indeedv to a fault ; and
now he sit^watching his wife with a glanée that is absolutely j,^
murderoqs. With it ail he is so astounded that it is a mo-
ment before he can speak.
" You did this ? " he says at last, in a sloWf cniel, sup-
pressed sort of voice. "You played the spy upon me —
you I You gave your old lover the eue, did you — you
draggcd him after me to the théâtre to spy upon me. You're
a fool, Crystal; and, by Heaven, you'll live to repent
itl"
She gave a gasping cry. He ârose from his seat, flung
down his paper, and stood before her, white with rage.,
** It is a thousand pitiés," he says with a sneer, that for the
moment blots out ail the fair Greek beauty of his face, ?^* that
I did not let you marry Dennison. He's in love with you
yet — no doubt your old penchant too is as strong as ever.
// was not hisfaulty poor fellow. May I ask where you and
Mr. Dennison are going together to-night ? "
She looks up at him — her eyes ail wide and wild, with a
bewildered'sort of horror. Eric has insulted her — insulted
her. She tries to speak, but only a gasping sound cornes,
Something in her eyes — in her face frightens even him, in .
' his blind fury, into remorse and relenting.
"Don't look li^e that," he says with a strident sprt of
laugh. '* I didn't>quite mean what I said ; but when a man
4n» wife Funning about to^ théâtres iir^is absence» withF
\
■^
'^.
"f
her old Idver — Well, sir 1 what do you war
For a servant has entered with a card upon a salver, and
riiisTi
w^t ? "
"ira
.; Si»' • i
4"
• •.*■»«
^l^,^^i^-%- <^^^%"^^^^^^^^ïl^f fl^^#^
kC
"A
A
'4
f;^-
•■«&"'
328 ««^T- ZOyrS YOVNG DREAM COMES TO.
STSïtLLSi*'"" Lord Dyndytakesitup and utter.
_ «Miss France Forrester I" he exdaims. "The plot
«iv?»\ V^^'^' ^Tl *^' »^ t^y? Where is Ae
lady ?» he demands of the man.
. " In the salon, my lord."
« Very well, tpU her we wiU be there io* moment." The
man salaams and départs. .« Go to vour roôm, CiystaL" he
sây^ less harshly ; « and, for HeavA's sake try and «t rid
KÎ"'f^^!fS:• Jfo" look «ke a galvanized corpl You w il
hâve theni thmking hère I adopt the good old British custom o
beating my wife. Put on rouge-^nything~«el vour maid
France V"*^?^"\'"'^' thatWbUflJ^iSce to
France Forrestei^s sharp eyes."
With this pleasant and bridegroom like adjuration .he
eaves her and goes to the salon Xo receive their ^sL He
is humming a popular Parisian street song as he goes, a haU
smile^n his hps, ail his old sunny debonnaie self ?^e more :
w,^"
f
** Ma mère est à Paris.
Mon p^re est à Versailles,
Et moi je suis ici,
Pour dûnter sur la paille—'*
he sings a» he enters. France sits in agréât nibvvelvet
chau- chaniiîngly dressed. looking fresh^ fW mor«
fl?X" M/1 /t^Tu^'®**'"^* bnghten as they take their
flight. fVAat did he see in his faded, fiasse/, uallid littl..
wife to prefer her to this brUliant, darkCuty ? For my
Ln Wh?n 5?H J* ^"^^^ ^**? '^'^ «^^^«» but not so
soon. When dïd you amve, and where are ySa locatod ? "
FaZurS;*^» '" ^' ''•«'^^^"^ haveapSents S the'
à \
tmame^ In» th. ri* o/toding J» «Ul^ïï^lïï ™tad
Jt..
'%ili
ps»^'-'
WHAT LOI^SS YOUNG DREAM COMES TO.
329
ftway immediately after breakfast, Ypu ate up, J see, for
which, oh, bé thankful. And now where is Crystal ?"
" Crystal will be hère in a moment. IJow well you are
looking, France," he says, half-regretfully ; "being in love
must be agréât beaptifier — better than ait Mftdame Rachel's
cosmetics."
" Must be I " she laughs ; " yoû don't knot^r from experi-
eàce then ? I can return the compliment-^you are looking
as if life went well with you —
" His 'and was free, bis meam «£» eaqr»
A finer, nobler gent than he,,
Ne'er rode along the shons Eleésy,
Or paced the Roo de Rivolee !"
.Sf"!
•0
quotes France, aftçr her.old fashion ; "but then, of course,
we are in the height of our honeymoon, and see ail things
through spectacles couleur de rose."
Eric laughs, but rather grimly. He is thiûking of the
honeymoon-like tête-à-tête her coming ended.
" And how are they ail ? " he inquires— " the Madré and
Mrs. Caryll ? Mrs. Caryll is hère, I suppose ? "
" Grandmamma is hère — ^yes. And better than you ever
saw her. And your mother is well and dying ïo see you,
and how matrimOny agrées with you. Do you know, Eric,"
laughing, **I can't fancy you in the rôle oi Benedick the
married man."
He laughs too, but it is not a vbry mirthful laugh.
" Caryll is with you ? " he says, keeping wide of his own
conjugal bliss ; " Of course he is, though— lucky fellow I I
needn't ask ifyleis well?" -
"You need not, indeed," France says, and into herfacça
lovely rose light comes ; " but you will soon see for yourselt
-they will ail call' later. What does keep Crystal — I hop6
is not so silly as to stay and make an elaborate toilet
me?"
"No, no--«he will be down in a moment. She has a
niwt u Bc ne " I8 ra tncr secoy tnis inomttig'g'-late itotirs "and dt8*=
, iipaiion will tell on rustic beauty, fan know. By the by^
mptoçoê of nothingi do you know Terrjr Deoniaon it iiçare^
^1. V
I .
«ilS-lBîiitr^/»|çi.v£i^ • " Àj^^M:..».
'%ï
" <:
't,
W ,5
1
I
* 330 WffAT LOVeS YOUNG DREAM COMES TO.
at this hôtei? We are quite a faniily party, you see,* he
laughs again rather grimly. - -
" Terry hère ! dear old Terry I how glad I shall be ta see
niin. Whçn did he get over ? " „
"Last night also. I^ appears to hâve been a nîcht of
arrivais. Ah, hère is Crystal now." , •
He looks rather anxiously as be says it. He knoïvs of old
how keen Miss Forrester's haz«l eyes are— he féels that she
has already perceived something to be wrong. That she has
heard nc^thing he is quite sure. Her nianner would certâijily
not be so frankly natural and cordial if one whisper of the
truth ha^ reached her. ', • '
Crystal has done her best She has exchanged her white "
wrapper for a pink one that l.ends a faint, fictitious glow to
her face. The suggestion about rouge she has not adopted
^rougî, Crystal looks upon as a device of the evil one.
Something almost akin to gladness lights her sad eyes as she
' cornes forward and into France's wide, open arms.
- "My dear Lady Dyoely 1 My dear liitle Crystal !" and
then France stops and sendsher quick glanée from her face
tb Enc's, and reads trouble without a second look. She is
honestly shocked, and takes no pains to hide it.
i Eric winces. Hai Crystal so greatly changed then for the
worse ? AU his selâsh, unreasoning anger stirs again within
hun.
"Vou hâve been ill?" she says, blankly. "Yqu— you
look wretchedly." -,
« t" ^ î?^ ^°" ^^^ ^^ * headache," Eric interrupts, irritably.
» I told you laté hours and Paris dissipation will tell upoti
nistic beauty. There is nothing the matter. Open your
hps, oh, silent Crystal ! and reassure Miss Forrester."
" I ara quite well, thank you," Crystal says, but no effort
can make the words other thaij faint and mournful. Then
she sits down wilh her face frôm the light, and leans back in
her great carved and gilded chair, looking so sniall, and fra-
gile, and childish, and colorless that a great compassion for
her^and a great , y a gug yr âth agaiost h im ^^ F fanee's heagti:^
ipie does not know what he has done, but she knows hehas
done something, and is wroth accordingly. Why, the child
T .
^^v .l^,._,^^
I*î«.'^»t>»
K,
-, X
WHAT LOVES YOVNG DREAM COMES TO. 331
has gone to a shadow — looks utterly crashed and heart-
broken. Is he tired of her already ? — is he-«-but no, that is
too bad to think«even of fickle Eric — ^he cannot be neglect-
ing her for a rival.
Her cordial manner changes at once — a constraint has
fallen upon them. Ail Eric's attenipts at badinage, at society
sinall talk, fall flat. He rises at last, looks at his watch,
pleads an engagement, and prépares to go.
" I know you and Crystal are dying to comp^fre notes,"
he says, gayly, "and -that I am in the way. Only Crystal' s
notes will be brief, 1 wam you, France ; she hâs not your'
gift of tongne. Lady Dynely is the living exemplification of
the adage that speech is silver, and silence is gold."
l'Shaïl you be in when your mother and Gordon call,
Eric ? " France asks, rathe%coldly. " If not, I am commis-
sioned to tender an impromptu invitation to dine with Mrs.
Caryll."
" Awfully sorry," Eric answers, " but we stand pledged to
dîhe at the Embassy. /must put in an- a|()pcarance, whether
or no, and Crystal will also — headache permitting. Crystal
rather shrinks from heavy dinner parties and goes nowhere."
" I thought late hours and ' Paris dissipation were telling
on her," retorts France, still coldly. And Eric laughs and
goes, with a last severe, Wàftting glance at his wife — a ^nce
which says in its quick blue flash : .
"Tellifyoudarel"
It is a neëdless warning — Crystal has no thought of telling
-rof complaining of him to any one on earth. She lies back
in her big chair, herlittle hands folded, silent and pale, while
the sounds of ringing life reach them from the bright, gay
boulevard belo^, and the jubilant sunlight fills the room.
•♦How thin'you hâve grown, Crystal," France says at last,
vefy gently. " Paris does not' agrée' with you I thmk. Wo
jnust make Eric takq-you hôm^ to Dynely."
Her eyes light eagerly — something like color cornes into
the colorl ess face. She catches her breath hard.
"^''^ "* **Tfiie on^y wouidt'* " — t -
*iAun
/Il
#-'
' ''Ma
'*>*!»
Wf
413
Fran^ ià watching lier intently.
** Yottdon't like Paris, then ? "
iè>*'K.\.j±}- •-7,1 .,*
-/^. >^ > irJV
i"-5 '
V>'
J
If:
i^^^è^"
r.V'
j
» 333 WHATLOVes YOVm DREAM COMBS TO.
^^^^«Likeitl" thegentleeyes for an instant flash. «rhat<
" Do you go eut mach ?" she asks.
V'No-yes." CrysUl faltera. She hardly knows which
a^swer to make in W fear of committing Eric «î don-ï
care to go out-dmner partie» art a hore^i never was us^d
to much Society, you knovr, at home." ^
,,^*™ afraid you must be very lonely.»
' and ?he;.lric!î!" '"~"°' '''^' ^ ^^^^ *"^ P^^3^~* «^«^
feî2.KJS'"''°'^^u^'^*'''' ^' "«**' *'"*'°ed to the telling of
falsehoods, and the trutlj Tshe cannot tell. \
nJ.^îf'" î^"^"*"^ says quietly, "Eric is out agréât deal
nahirally_he is not a domestic oian ; Ijut once you retum
to Dynely-aU that will Bechanged. We must try and dÏS
vailupon him to take you home at once. ' ^
^ uf i*?-^ù"^ ^y^^ 8»ve her a grateful glance. Then a
troubled, frightened look cornes in^ them.
-iiÛK^ u ^'^^P^^'i^P* 5'°"''*^ bcitiër not," she says; «he
di "tateS tr Se ,1L''^Ï«-*^ ^"^ *"^ «^^ <=*°°«' be'ar' to £e
h'iWged to goV^"' "^""^^ *" ~^" '^ ''"^ *- *"«^ «
« We can survive that calamity," Miss Forrester answers
cymcally ; « and your health-and, yes, I will «y it-bTpS
neSs,ar€thcthingstobeconsiderédfirst." ^ ^^
"i^de^d\Z**^^iS^'"'^''fivT***' i° "^" increasing alarm,
i^eed I am. How could I be otherwise so soon ? "
.innîfJJ?'*" ''^'** -^'^^^ ^^- France looks at her in
unutterable compassion. \iî
rhiiln"' w® î 'î^*^^ ' " '*'' ans'^*»^ " you poor little pale
^L^^"' ^ T" «o-».heyreaUy don't know where I
am, and we are aU to go sight-seeing to the Luxembourir
Do corne with us, Çrystal ; fo u lookli -- - ««oou/g:
16*
But Lady Dynely shakes her snaUl, fiûr Ji ^d ,
i^p ^V'fgç*-.
^^1
'r0
WHAT LOVES YOUlfG DREAM COÉiES TO. 333
" I cannoV she says. " Eric may return, and be vexed
to find me oUt,"
" Eric 1 Eric 1 " thinks France, intolerantly ; " I khould
like to1x)xEric'sears!" ^ ' .
" Beçides, sight-seeing tires me," Crystal goes on, with a
wan little smile, "and I don'f think I care for pictures.
We visited the Luxemboug, and th«r Louvre, and the^Tuile-
ses, and ail the rest of the show places, when we first came,'
and I remember I was ill ail day with headache after them.
I like best to stay at home and read — indeed I do."
France sighs.
" My little Crystal I But you will be lonely.'*
" Oh, no. Eric may corne to luncheon— he often does —
and Terry will drop in, I dare say, by and by. You know
Terry is hère ? " interrogatively.
" Yes ; Eric told me. . I wish I could take you with me
ail the same, little one. I hâte tô leave you hère in this
hôtel alone. It is a sh^toe^l— a shame I " says France, in
her hot indignation.
But Crystal lifts a pained, piteous face. "
"Pleasedon't «peak like that, France. It is ail right,"
she says, with a little gksp ; "1 — I prcfer it."
" Do comfiij:. France persists, unheedingjy. " We will
lèave'yofl'ith^e with grandraamma Caryll, while we do the
sight-seeing. You will love her, Crystal— she is the dearest,
best old lady in Europe. Then we will din&comfortably to-
gether, en/àmitte, and go to the Varieties in the evening, to
gee this popular actress Paris raves about — Madame Felicia."
But, to France's surprise, Crystal suddenly withdraws her
ftands and looks up at her with eyes that absolutely flash.
" I will never go to the Varieties 1 " she cries ; " I will
never go to see Madame Felicia ! She is 4 wicked, wicked
, woman, and I hâte her 1"
. She is trembling from l^ead to fpot i^lith nervous passi&n as
«he says it. France stands petrified. Then ail in an in-
•tont Crystal recoUects herself, and piteously clasps her
OaSk • '■ — —^ ~ '— —
"I did nol mean to say that 1" she cries; "it is very
rong of me. Please don't think anything of my ançy
wrong
■ ^-^i^.-^^.^.
^kt"^^
334 WfiMT- LOy£'S YOUNG DSBAM €OMES TO.
words— I did not mean anytljing by them— indeed I dùl
France stoops and kisses her as a sister might, holdine
her close for a moment; and a little sob she cannot wIiqU?
re^ress breaks from the poor, jealous child, as she lays her
neaaon Prance's breast. ' ^
"Mydarlinjg," France whispers, in that warm kiss, "keeu
yp heart Enc shall tafe you out of this wicked, tiresome'
. Pans before the week ends, or I will know the reason why "
, Ihen, with profoundest pity for this poor little girl bride.
« i?3 ?**■ °^" *^^y'* pleasuring totally spoiled. - \
This is what Eric's love-match cornes to," she think
. Mdly. «Ah, poor little Crystall
•• * I bave lived and loved—bnt that was to-day ;
Ga bring mè mj grave-dothesto-monow.' »»
%.i*-
■ ■' i
CHAPTER VI.
AT THE VARIETIlB.
|T is -lose upon luncheon hour when Miss Forrester
.fetums to the Faubpurg St. Honore. As she enters
the drawing-rooni, still in her street (fress, she sees
her lover sitting in an arm chair by the open win-
dow, smoking a cigar, .and immersed in the art criticisms of
.the Hevue des Deux Mondes. He throii^ down the paper"
and looks at her with lazily loving eyes. Happiness and
prosperity certainly agrée with him — as Gordon Caryll, the
accepted suitor of Miss Forrester, he looks ten years yoiinger
than did Mr. Locksley, the impecunious portrait paihter.
Handsomer, nobler, France thinks, than ^ir. Locksley, it is
impossible for mortal man to grow.
" Well," he says, "you hâve returiied. My thoughts were
just tuming seriously to the idea of having out the détective
police, and ofiering a reward for your recovery. Is it admis-
«ble to ask, my child, where you hâve been ? "
She cornes behind him, lays her little gloved hands od his
shoulders, and looks down into the gravely smiling face rest-
ing against*the chair back. They are not démonstrative
lovexs those two, but now, raUiher to Mr. Caryll's surprise,
Miss Forrester impulsively stoops and leaves a kiss on his
forehead.
" And to think," she says, drawing a tense sort of breath,
"that I tnight hâve marria* him i" r /
Mr. Caryll opens his handsome gray eyes. iBoth the kiss
and the irrelevant exclaination ntke him rather aback..
" You might bave married him 1 You might hâve mar-
ried whom ? You hâve not been proposing . to any one
lEraiice?"
*rA.bout Eric^t* sHe^swers, absently.
-•^
^'/12
'^
.-iKiS
■"K
l'If
'4
->
i,
-rfr î^«S VARIKTIES.
.\ ■
,, "And with the most woàbegone of facest Melancholv
has evidently niarked you for h^r own this moming. You
are regrettipg yo<, threw Eric ovèr for me-is that it, mj
" Nonsense I " ig France'» energctic aqswer. " I hâte to
ZUT ^J r^ f"^^^ '""°.^? j*^^^' <^°'^<>"- Thanlc
to do Lî K . ï'^. E"<='/^"^^nly-one coqld hardly fail
ÎL^ V L '„^ u'""*^^ ^** * ™°^* thorough-paced con-
temp^ for him ail the same. And if I had married him-
but no, I never would, I never could, if there had been no
Cjystal' Hi^ns, no Mr Locksley, in the schéma of the «S?
[f!* ,9°™°"' I hâve beeii to see them this morning.»
A A •î?*^"'5^' ^y «'ear, from your very cnergetic languaire
And you found them well, I hope ?" 'anguage.
tC'^^A f^*"^"/' ^'*°c«„«VS. resentfully ; « he will be, to
the end of the chapter. But, Crystal— "
"Fof thebetter?»
«nnlf°^ï?*''*^?1: ^^« »^,t*^'ï shadow ofherself-poor little
î IL» î. ^ *»ef t-broken face and voice haunt me like
a l^ost Enc is a brute I " .
has'&i^oie?^"**'^^"''*"*^^^"*'' are they not? What
lJ- '^*^'* '^nff wï^thehasdone," MissForr^teransweru.
indignan y. « I only know he is breaking bïs wi^'g helS
l^ltlt^P "^^ 'hnsbandsinvariably do' ? IJbSsay if ii
Mr. Caprli takes one of the gtovedhands aligiires it an
affectionate httle squeeze. —r »»«»"«»
« My dear chUd, don't excite yourselC I int«ibdtoprove
Sri? n^*T Senoudy Aough, I am vciy soiTfor «ttle
**1i sun i >orH y What nimori? I never \i*-KtAynH nHndeKT
llieni.''
R-^'
J«^î#4-^j*l||^èi
a&JSI-'j
h- "f I
■t'iV
»♦.
/
-ÏT* ?»K VARIETIES.
337
No ; one does noï care to talk about that sort of thine
and I kîiew it would annoy you, and make his mother un-
happy But as you seem to be finding out for yourself, well
^l-i '^^ ^^g\^ci% the little one, and runs about
w'I^'r f^^'^'V^e actressl Gordon,! am sure ofiti
With Fehcia, the dancer I"
" With Felicia, the dancer. But take it calmly, my love.
Howdoyouljnowit?" ' ^
" I know it from Ciystal herself. That is what she meant
Fehcia!"*^ to corne with us to the Varieties to see
" Ah, what did she mean ?"
' vJi^ ï?*^ î^ ^""^^^ ^.'^f V^"eties, she hated Madame
fk ^ l ^^"^^ ^^^ "^^^ * "^^"^^^^ Painted woman. And you
«hould haf'e seen those dove-eyes ofhers flash. Mv ooor
dear httle Crystal I " The dark. impetuous eyes ï\\ SeaS
: and fire with indignation. " Only six weeks married I " she
^Nfays passionately. , "Gordon, I hâte Eric."
., 'v^' France " he says gravely, "don't make yourself
unhappy about this. Lady Dynely must hâve known she ran
no orditvary nsk m marrying Dynely-the most notorious
maie flirt in Europe. If she had had one grain of sensé in
that pretty flaxen head of hers she must hâve known that
matnniony Would work no miracles. A flirt he is by nature
—there is not a graià of constancy in histfrhole composi-
b°"ii^" ^ ^^^"^ "^ ^ she,must abide by her
"Heisabrute !" .^
"So you said before," answers Mr. Caryll, a half-smUe
breaking up the gravity of his face. " Still, alîowance must
be made for him. He has been spoiled ail his Ufe—he has
never beéh thwarted-to wish has béen to bave, and ladiés
hâve petted and made rouch of him for his azuré eyçs, and
golden curls, and his Greek profile, ail his life long. Time
««j. cure him MeanwhUe, neither you nor I, Miss Forres-
g^> ^" J^elP Çr ystal. And theys aythis FèUcia playu. fy
^'^tpce wTariier victimi."" :;!:m- ^unn i i i a yn-^ n e-
'V
X'
¥i
%
**Have you ever seen her, Gordon?"
-'^^■i
K't
if
1 — -
; -
"^l , f
338
^r 7W» VARIETIES.
'M\
V " Nevei. I was too busy last year when she was at the
Bijou, and besides, I had an aversion to théâtres and théâtre*
going. I sjîall see her to-night, however."
" She bought your picture, ' KoYt the Night Fell,' didn't
she?"
"Yes. Di Venturini purchased 4t for her. By the bye, I
promised at the time a companion picture. They say she' s
to marry Di Venturini immediately upon his retum from
. Italy."
. " Marify him ! TTiat woiinan !"
" My dear France," Caryll says, laughing, " with what
stinging scorn you bring out tbai woman ! There is nothing
said against ' that wj^man ' except that she is a most outrage-
ons coquette." *
" But she is a dancer, and he is a prince."
"That go^for nothing. The best blood of the realm
takes its w^fe^Qm the stage in thèse days. I shouldn't
fency it |By8éï|5i^t yo" ^"ow the adage, « A bumt child
dreads mï? fire.* '^^ .
" Po^little Çàystal ! " sighs France,
" Bibor little Crystal, indeed. Rumor says he is altogether
inf)|$uated. Leii us hope rumor, for once, is wrong. Are
they coming to^ dinner ?"
„. ■ »* No.~ Eric pleads a prior engagement, and she does not
^^»Bf.Ul»bave hejirt enough left to go anywhere. Hère is
. Lady Dynely. By. the bye, I forgot to tell you Terry is in
-?faris."
" Terry ? Terry Dennison ? " cries Lady Dynely, eagerly ;
"is he, really. Whete, France ? "
" At the Hôtel du Louvre. I stole a march' tïpon you this
moming, and made an early call upoti the h^py pair."
Her ladyship's eyes Itght eagerly.
" And you saw them ? You saw Eric ?"
" l'saw Eric, mamma."
" How is he looking ? Will they dine with us ? "
" Eric is looking well— never better. And they dine at
the Embassy this evening. No doubt, though, Eric will call."
"^Here Hé fs how," Caryll inlerrùpts, lôoluDg frbin tfie
window, and France disappeai,rs Uke a flash. She feels in no
it',.*. '.' 1-r'' ^ l&;. ^ •.'^ 4^ î/ "1
mood at présent to meet and exchange pleasant common-
placeswith the Right Honorable the Lord Viscount Dynely.
^ She goeî to her room, throws oflF her bonnet atid seal
jacket, and pays a visit to grandmamma'Caryll, in her own
apartments. Paralysis has deprived her of the. use of her
liinbs. She sits in her great invaUd chair the long days
through. But in her handsoroe old face a look of great,
serene content reigns. •
The restless, longing, impatient light that foryears looked
eut of her eyes has gone— she has found what she waited
and watched for. Her son is with her— France is to be his
wife — she asks no more of earth.
The luncheon-bell rings. Mrs. Caryll's is brought in, and
France descends. To her great relief, Eçc has gone, and
Teny is m his place. Terry, who is changed too, and who
looks grave ând preoccupied.
" You were at the Louvre this moming, France," he says
to lier as they sit side by side. " You saw her f "
" Yes, Terry," .and France's compassionate eyes look at
him very gently. " I saw her."
" And you hâve heard "
" Everything— poor Ifftle CrystaL Terry, Eric must take
her to England, and at once."
" Ah, if he only would," Terry says with a sort of groan,
"but hejvill not. That is past hoping for. He is killing
her— as surely as ever man killed woman. And when he
does," Terry sets his teeth like a bulldog, '*my time of reck-
oning will corne."
" You must accompany us this aftemoon, Terry," Lady
Dynely says, after the old imperious fashion. "France is
quite as much as Gordon is capable of taking care of. J
want you."
Terry falls into the old groove at once. In his secret
heart he is longing to be at the hôtel with Crystal, to cheer
her m her Idneliness; but that maynot be, may never be
again. So he sighs and goes. They spend the long, sunny,
— ^nog-likft afternoon amid the Mdns^ Paria, itndfetem ier=
mne, and dress for the théâtre.
" The wbole duty of fwnily escort wiU fiUl upon your vie-
JJ»M <
1-
.•i*-i;*^^l^iÉtï?^3â^W.
'-.U:
340
AT THE VARIETIBS.
W'^-^.\
.timized shoulders, Dennison," says M}-. Cary 11, looking up
from a letter that the post has brought him. " This is a
note.from General McLaren — I served under him at the
beginning of the American civil war. He is at the Hôtel
Mirabeau ; and as he leaves Paris to-morrow, begs me to
call upon him to-night You won't mind, I suppose ; and
I will look in upon you about the second act."
,^ 51 always told Terry he was bom to be a social martyr,"
i France says. "The fetch-andH:arty, go-andrcome, do this
oand that rôle^ has been yours from your birth, my poor,
^iboy."
So it chances that when the curtain goes up, and the
." Golden Witch " begins, Gordon Caryll dpes not make one
of the party of three who look down from the front of their
box, amid ail the glittering " horse-shoe " of gaslight and hu*
man faces. The pretty, biîght théâtre is very full ; there is
an odor of pastilles, a^flutter of fans, a sparkle of jeweiry.
Felicia is in great form to-night — she has heard from Lord
* Dynely himself of the family party coming to view her with
coldly-critical, British eyes. They hâve laughed together
over it in her little dusk-shaded, perfumed, luxurious draw-
ing-room, where His lordship has made a much longer raorn-
^ ing call than he made immediately before ia the Faubourg
/T, Si. Honore.
She glances up now, swiftly and es^erly, as she cornes
forward io the footlights, a golden goblet in her^and, her
long hair floating loosely over her shoulders, singing some
wild bacchanalian, Theresa-like ditty. She is gloriously
beautiful in her scant drapery, and her rich voice fiUs the
théâtre superbly. But as she tosses off her goblet, at the end
- of her drinking song, she sees that the man she looks for is
not in the box.
Will he know her ? He has never seen her since that
loqg, far-off night when they parted in the darkening day bv
the shore of the lonely Canadian river. He thinks Jier dead.
Will he knonr her ? A wild, tierce delight fiUs her soûl,
fiâmes up in her eyes. and burns in her cheeks. Will he
^ïnbwker? She willslng to-n^ht (ijf "Be coinés) tSé iÔM^
ihe ever sang for him, that first eveninig; in the cottsi|e <x
•#■-,
1 ' " 'T '''-h**'»**.*
ê*;U
AT THE VÀHIETIES.
341
A
"P^^^^
Major Lovcll. It will ran very well with this play--that is
much more song and dance than drama. If hedoubtî lier
identity, surely, surely, he will remember that.
She IS wild with excitement, she surpasses herself. The
^udience applaud to the écho— she flings herself in to her
'^art with a reckless abandon that sweeps her listeners alone
1 with her. And still she watches that box, and still he
doesnot corne. Will he not corne atall? Amid aAtorm
of excited applause, amid a shower of bouquets, the cortain
falls upon the first act. (
«'How well she plays." " How magnific^ly she i»
looking. « Never saw her dance half a quarter^ well in
my hfe before." «'By Jove I you know, what z. voicé
J^ehcia has. Thèse and a hundred such exclamations niri
the round of the théâtre.
"She is beautiful ! " France exclaims, "with a beauti du
diable I never saw equalled. And she dances and sings like
a very Bacchante." ^
" Wfsh to Heaven they would burn her as a witch," '
growls Terry, under his ruddy beard. "Such a woman
shouI(3 no more be let run loose than a leopardess."
« She sings yery well," Lady Dynely says, languidly: « but
there is soraethmg fierce and outre abom her, is there not ?
I don t hke tlus sort of exhibition. A ballet is bad enough
—this kind of thmg is positively indélicate. What is she
lookftig at our box for ? I caught her more than once."
She ts ookmg for what she does not see. There is Eric
yonder m the stalls," sàys Miss Forrester, in a tone of stonv
resentraent. '
"Is-he, really?" Eric's mother puts up her glass and
leans forward. "So he is, and quite alone. Where is
Crystal, I wonder ?"
" Crystal is at home, and quite alone also, you may be
very sure," answers France, stiU in that tone of strong, sup.
pressed mdignation. e» f-
" I wonder if he sees us ? Oh, yes, he does. Therti he
jtwtngî -1*0 doubttrwm (aiTûpên ù8 aîréctly. Trance,
>hy<îon't you look? He is bowing to>w." . '
Bol France'» bnght, angiy eyc» are fixed steadfkstly upon
il"
<* -2!
• 'H
%:
i
f*i-^ 1
.c- >>^"^
( ■ r
342
AT THE VARIETIES.
|he riàng curtain — she wiU tua see Lord Dynelyt. Ami
Lord Dynely looks away from her, feeling he bas been
snubbed, and knowing very well thé reason why.
He bas côtne to the ^iieatre to-nigbt, partly becaitsç he
^capnot stay away, partly out of sheer bravado.
What I shall he stay away becl^lse he is afraid ôf Terry
^Dennison, and France Forrester? Is he still a child ir
leadipg-strings, to be dictated to ? Not if he knows it. Sa
he leaves early the anibassador's saloon, and goes to the
Varietiesy and sits ont ail the second act, directly under the
lorgnettes of the Gordon Caryll party.
' \ ^ ^ Again madamlg^ surpasses herself— again the wbole bouse
' ^ rings with applause — again bouquets are showeredupon her.
Lord ,Dynely adds bis mite to the rest, a bouquet of scarlet
and white camellias. Again and again, the black, fierce,
festless eyes, flash their feverish light to that one box. And
'•, still the man for whom she looks doociiot come.
He cornes as the curtain falls foi: , the second time, and
^ ï'rance's eyes and smile welcome hun.
«♦Am I vgrx late?" he asks. "McLaren and ï had a
thoiisand things lo say, and time fléw. I say, France, how
do ^ou like it ?"
' "Not at ail ! She fascinâtes one, but it is a horrid and
unhealthy sort t>f fascination. Her mad singing and dan-
cing throw me into a fever."
"Is there much more of it?" he ^ys, standing be&ind
her chair. "Is it ail over?" „; ^
"There is one more acL She^b toJ« bumed alivé,
Terry tells me, and I want to wait ànàse^noL^ 1 shall try
to fadfcy the burning real, and enjoy it aclo^ngly."
, " By Jove I " he says, apd laughs, "what a blood-thirsty
spirit we are devejoping I Ah ! Dyne\y,yûu hère ? "
For the door opens, and Eric, languid and handsome,
saunters in. •
"How do, Caryll? Late, ai'n't you? Well, France-r
well,«MM^^,howdoyoulikeit? Superbactress,isn't8he?"
He look» at France. With a certain défiance, she seei
cceprar
*' If dancing mad jigs, singing drinking songs, and ci^r*
'Éà^4
■(
' AT THE VARIETIBS, y
343
• ipg about like a bedlamite, go to constitute a fine actress,
îhen yes. A little of Madame Felicia goes a long way." .
. ^ His eyes jflash, but he laughs. ' . .
•^Thete is no accounting for tastes. She seems to please
her audience, atleast."
. **WhereisCrystal?" Branceabmptîyasks. "I thought'
you were to dine at the Embassy."
" Crystal is at home. And you thought quite right ; we
wer^Ko dine at the Embassy." The défiant ring is itaore
inarked than ever. ** I hâve diped there, and oamy way
home dropped in hère, knowing I woirid hkvé thfe ^easure
of being in the bosom of my family." *
He looks at heir steadfastly, and France tqmsber'white
shoulder deliberately upoh him. Her lover îs leasing over
the back of her chair— àh ! how she loves him,, hbw she
trusts him— how différent he'ïs froin this'4shallôw-brained
jfoung dandy, wi^h his Greek" beauty, and callôûs heart!
How differently her life wiltbe ordered from Grystal's, when
rfie is his wife.
As shé thinks it, the curtain goes, up for the tby-d time,
and. the "Golden Witch" bounds on tbç sta^.
She is singing as she springs to the foou^^t^ a gleeful
hunting chorus this time. A tçoop of foUowers in green and
gold confte after, and join in thè chorus. . Her costume is of
green and gold also * a green hUnting cap, with a long white
plume, is set jauntily on her raven tresses. She is dazzljng •
m the dress, she is radiant as she sings. Agaîn her sweet,
high voice, rings to the domed roof. ^ AiwUt isihe very song
Rosamond LoVell sang for Gprdon/ Caryll, soVentcen years
ago, in the Toronto cottageiw^ /
She lOasheâ one fiercé electric Idpk up àt their box*.
Yes, he is there ât last— at last. Thank Heaven for that I
if«she can thank Heâven for anythbg.
He hears her, he secs her; recognizes the song. Hé
knowsher.
; Her hour of triumph is complète. .' Her excit^ment
-leach e s ita-climax. A»4the lie verplay eJ btffowrrt»-|>fety»-
to-night She holds the multitude bréathless, spellbound.
Sh$ sings her own death-song, wild, wailing, weira, unearth-
fr,
-.1
1
V
«5 '*
^■^•
1''^'%
\
344
Ar TBE J^ARIETIES.
indIuSsiL'" ^Th?^"^ Wthat France shudders
her ,;S/Î *. ^^ miflfic fiâmes arise-surround her,
her uphfted face w seen above them, as-îhe curtain fallâ
. down, her ghastly dèatt-song dies wailbg away
*K,f *l * °^°™ent, so rapt and petrified are the audience
that they eannot applaud. Then-^yx^ a storm of cSn?
Sff •«« ^'* ' M?^'*^'* ' *«y shout, as with one voîce
She oomes out smiling and kissing haXds. AnoSier témi
pest of applause and delight breaks Xox^ Theff flashTne uu
pn^ast ^ok. straight into tîordpn Caiyll's F^^ st df^^
ofTiSel'' * '*^ -""* commotion, anuprising and shawling
it is Hke\hl ^ZIT ^"^^ rî n '^"^^^'> "*^ » diabolical I
s^c Lcîe aL^? n"^' rf''^" «ever corne to see this Sutre
spectacle agam. Do ^^« hke it, Gordon?"
to he^r ïi? I > ^""^ ^°°''' "P *' ^»'"- He does not seem
L S^ ?l^ ^''^' "°' '^^" *° see^r^-he is staring S
the stage hke a man stupefied. ^ aiarmg ai
"Gordon!" she cries.
Wt ms face stiU keeps that dazed, stunned look Hiâ
bronzed skm too. has turhe^ of a de'ad ashen gj^î? '
Her question seems to break the spelL tie'makes an
iMothing. Willyou corne?"
«<wM!'l''°*''^ '"' <*ançed-it is hoarse an<Uow. He
îfr^riro ^" "»" «echanlcally, and watches her-aningSg
her opera-wrap without trying to help her. She tSces S
^d^goes with hini out, andVthe whUe h^ieepsth^^d "
« /?K ^^^l ^^"^ *« '^**»"« »° his sleep. ^
know^'L^ïi';.^'^ "^" °"^' "«'^ « ^'^ ^- y-
He wakes thcn-Wakes to the whole ho irid tmth.
'4 JRo-^ TT 7 ""^-^ ^^^ " 'c wnwe noma truth.
ti:f.
- ■ #
.t-tf
■'k - '
--.*». ^... -r.
■■ %
r<^ ii''" ■
%-i,i
rt^
. Fr
Tt
.:? ■
sui
■ 3
he
Iça
•tr
i\- «^ SA 1* '
rfv^,
■i^Y^ji'.
<"*•'« \'
-'s ^i 1
^^^•^^.^
R%^:
^<?;^-
^7- rjr£ VARIBTtES.
345
I '' ^
Her eyes dilate. They are out under the-frosty, February
»^s. fié puts them into the carriage-T-Lady Dynely and
France—but he makes no effort to foUow them. Eiic and
Terry make their adieux and turn away.
"Are you not coming, Gordon?" Lady Dynely asks in
surprise. • ,y .
" No," he answèrs, still in Ihat low, hoarse tone. " Hoine/'
he says to the coachraan. And as they whirl away, France
Içans yéamingly (qrward, and seës him standing under the
Street lamps,- quite alone.
^
•■«
r^* . ■ ' .
:-^V:/::
^
' «'
-*
■)• .
4
ii'«^ .«r -i>
ÇHAPTER VIL
"AFTKR, JÎANY DAYS.'*
lE knows her ! From the firat moment in wbich hn
fcyes rested.on her, fron^ the first instant he bas
heard her ringing voice, he knows it is bis Wife.
The song slje sang for him in Major Lovell's dim
^raviring-room so many years ago, she is singing again for
him to-night, for him— he knows that, too. His divbrced
wife stands yonder before him— this half-nude actress— his*
divorced wife whonf for the past ten years he bas thought
dead. Hh knovs it in that first moment of récognition as
surely as he ever knew it in the after days.
She bas hardly changed at ail— in the strong, white lime
bght, she does not stem to bave aged'one day in seventeen
years. The dusk, sensuous beauty is riper and more of the
"earth, eartby;" the délicate outlines of first youth bave
passed, except that she is even more beautiful m her inso-
lent, voluptuous womanhood than in her slim, first girlhood.
He thmks this in a dazed, stupefied sort of way as he stands
and looks at her. And this is Rosamond Lovell— the
woman wbo was once bis wife.
His wife I bis wife 1 The two words écho like a knell
through bis brain, set themselves to the wild, sweet music
that lé ringing abptît him, fit themselves in time to her flying
feet His wife! Yonder, créature, singing, dancing in that
dress, that wtaress rather— gaped at by aU thèse people.
His wife ! . *^ *^
The ligbts, the faces, the stage, seem to swim before
him in a bot, red mist. He grasps the back of the chair
je holds, and sets bis- teeth. Great Heaven 1 is the
Nemesu^o f^Ms m ad, b o yiab fi>lly to pur stte him to tîie-emhf
.^ And then France's cool, sweet voice faUs on his eor
'ai^^Jii
MS»<(.'^
■.tf^}'^
^
r'
t'^Jf-
i'
V>fr V-t«';.
*AFTER MÀNY DA YS "
34;
« Do you hke it, Gordon 1" she is asking, ^vith a stnile.
Ihe lair, pure feee, the loving, upturned eyes, the trustful
sqtïile, meet him and stab him with^a pang that i? like death.
He has forgotten her— in the |Ét ihock of récognition aiid
dfeadful surpnse, he has forgotfen her. Now he lOoks down
Ujjon her, àncj feels without thinkinaat ail, that in findine
hiè divorced wife ,he has lost his bride.
pe cannot answer her— his head is reeling. He feels
heï wondenng, startled eyes, but he is.beyond caring. He
tnés to.answer, and his voice sounds far off and unreal even
to ms own ears.
It ends. The curtain is down, the blinding stage-light \%
out, she is gone. He can breathe once more now that fetal
face is away. The whole théâtre Has uprisen. Lady Dynely
tô moving out on the arm of her son— France is claspine
his and gazing up at him with eyes of wistful wonder.
They are out under the cool, white stars— he has placed
them m their carnage, seen them.roU away, and is alone.
Alone, though scores pass and repass, although dozçns of
gay voices. and happy laughs reach him; although àU the
bnght city is stiU broad awake and in the streets. He takes
off his hat and lets the cold wind lift his hair. What shall
he do, he thmks, vaguely ; what ought he do first ?
Rosamo|id, his divorced wife, is living— he has seen her
to-night. And France Forrester wiU marry no man, who is
the husband of a wjfe. They hâve spoken once on thé sub-
ject—gravely and incisively— he recalls the conversation
now, Word for word, as he stands hère.
"If she had not died, France," he had asked her, "if
nothmg but the divorce freed me— how thètt ? Would you
sull hâve loved me and been my wife?" 1
And she had looked at him with those clear, truthful,
brave eyes of hers, and answered at once :
" If she had not died— if nothiçg but your divorce beed
you, there could hâve been no 'howthen: Loved you I
might— it seems to me I must ; but marry you— qo. No ^
m ore than I would if thçre had never been a. divorce „AJ,
hrîan Aon I^mr^ K..i ^^^ ...ffL j J_ .1 • • .
hian can hâve but one wife, and death Alone cah sever th«
bond. I bçUeve in np J»tter^y doctrine of divorce."
-■■V.
m
'K
*-»
v^
^l
548 .^t. **AFTER M AN Y DA.YS:*
' Thçy had spoken of it no more, he Jiad thought of it 110
more. It ail comes back to him m he stands hère, and
ne knows he bas lost fore ver France Forrester
i,;c''^K^*''^"'i"u*''? ""f^ despair, a wild idea'flashes acioss
bis brain and he catches at it as the drowniiig catch at
straws, It h w/fiis wife-^e wiU^iot believe it It is an
accKtental resemblance— it may be a relative—a sister: shé
niay bave had sisters, for what he ever knew. It is not
Rosamond Lovell-the dead do not arise, and she w^s
kiUed ten prears ago. Sonie one must knW this Madame
Felicias. antécédents; it is only one of iese accidentai
reserablances that startle the world sométimes. He witt
findout. Who is it knows Madame Felicia?
He puts bis-band to bis head as this délirions idea flashes
tbrough it, and tnes to think. Terfy Dennison^yes. be is
sure Terry Dennison knoys her, and knows her well. He
will be able to tell hmi ; he wUl foUow at once.
A moment later ahd he is striding with a speed of which
he is unconscious in the direction of thé Hôtel du Louvre
Smfwf rf ™^V^adily enougb. Terry is standing in thé
briUiantly-ht vestibule, smoking a cigar. Eric is bon garçon.
and has run up at once to his wife. A heavy hand is laid
on Terry s shoulder, a breathless voice speaker '
"Dennisonl" ^^«"^1^^ _
Terry turns round, takes out his cigar, and opéiis his
m»ifï^/'i S^ï '„ ^""^ *' !^' ^^^ °^ "«^»'' Whafs the
^u^ ^y dear fellow, apythmg wrong? You look—"
There i nothing wron|," stiU huskily. » I want to ask
you a quest|on, Dennison. Come out of this."
««•A l!"h^'* "" through Tenys, and draws him out
of thehoteL entrance into the street Terry stiU holds his
agar betwee^ bis finger and thumb, and stiU stares blankly.
Ihere must be something wrong," he réitérâtes : «on
my Word, my dear fellow, you look awfully "
«Nevér mind mylooks," Caryll impatiently crie». "Den-
Wson, you knowjMa^me Felicta ? "
owyMa^i
Kpected^
^A*^hisuirexpccted question, DeHHÎi5r,irWssi5Iei itandi
more agape than ever. Thep he lau^s. ^
3^,,;yF---,.! ■?<■!>
**AFTER ^ANY DAYSr
34$
« What r ' YoHHoo, CaiyU J Oh, this is too mach~»
Vn„?n!; .k"^*"' ^"^? ^^^^ ^"sl^ly- "Answer me.
You know this woman ?'*
,"Well, yes.". ,
' 'Uotitnately ? "
maJdy^i'' ^*''' *«^^°' ^ ^"I^« I n»ay say tolerably inti
"Whatisherhistory?" ',
"Wbàt?" '
"Wh© is,she? Where does sfae corné from? What ia '
he^r real name?" Caryll asks still in fhat a^« k
breathless haste. ^ ' * *' ^™^ *'°"5«»
=u^''\?^"r"''°"'* ^^'^^ ^''**^ t° t^'ice their usual size He
altogether forgets to résume bis newly-lit cigar '
" My dear fellow " -^ » •
rali^rike^tK^H ^^^^^^^^^^ -<^ Terry,«Iow natu-^
♦K " "^X If f ^^'' ^«""^ «ïoes she corne from ? What was
the rest ? ' he dejnands helplessly. « Good Lord ! CarvU
"Wold'"°"' /" r ^eWfather'^^iss^o?^"*
• „ T ? ° ^ ™® yo" J^new her intimately."
and that goes for nothing. What do we, any of us, know of
Î;LT^^%- ^°'''' g^o^^i^Patieiit old^?iuow; au I
?h 1 î ^'^«'^"^"g and cross-examine. You shaU hâve
^th a baSgï" '^^ "^ '^ "'P''"'""' height.oryou'11 go'oJ
h,- J!î^'"!i'^ •* ^u^î""**^ P^"'*'- '^«"'y '■esumes his cigar, thrusts
Slï^^^'V" ^'^ ^°^* P^'^^^*^ *"^ ^^"s- Gordon C«wî
Sm down "^""^^ «"fficiently to make a great effort aid
thll\^1? ^"'' P*[^°''' '^^"7'" *»e says, more coherently
,^e has yel.5pok^-èat this isa^4ttS- ofnôôïdS
5ïï?„ T '","«--» ™?«« almost of life and deàth." ^
Agam Terty-s eyes dilate, but this time he says nothirtg.
W
•.V^rj-.;-*^' :é*
350
"ÂFTEJl MANY PAYS.**
r^
W't
r^.
prr
^ I ttcYcr saw Madame Felida before to-night," goea on
Caryll; «andshe bekrs the mosf astonishing, th% irost as-
tounding resemblancd to another woman, a woman I hâve
thought dead for the ^ast ten years. I want to know her
history, and I hâve corne to you."
"Goon," saysTerry, caknly. V^
" Was Madame Felicia ever in America ?~ever in '^— a
pâulè—" in Canada?"
" She sayf not," is Tenys answer. I| .. /.
" Says n9t ? Then you Ih^— " 'I* ' -
"I think she was. She has always been so véhément in
denying it that; I hâve «uspected from the first she lied.
And since last night I felt sure of it"
"Since last night — "
** I don't know that ifs quitç Tatr to tell," says Teny ;
"but I don't seethat l'm boundltd fceeo Felicia's secrets~I
owe her no good tum, and if if|Df-*n|5^ to you, Caryll- "
|h that woman is of
iii|ode of last night
* ' 'Ivertent words,
" Anything—everything co^i
use to me," Caryll answers, fei)f i
Without rtîore ado, Terry relai^^
—the rescuinç the girl in the strè'et, h"!
and the bringmg her to Felicia. !^>V*
" Sheasseverated again and again that ^âicia had been in
Canada. She said she herself had been bom there, in such
a way, by Jove ! that you could only infer Felicia to be her
mother. And she looked like Felicia. And she had Felicia's
picture. And Felicia received her at once. And I believe,
upon my soûl, that she is Felicia's daughter."
Gordon Cary^ listened dumbly. felicia's child aiid-^
his. He knew there hadi been a child— a daughter—had
not Mr. Barteaux told hini? And she too was hère.
"She called herself— >"%!ebegan.
"She called herself Gordfon Kennedy. Gordon t *'By
Jove I " FjwMhTfirst time a ^udden thought strikes Terry—
a thonghCso sudden, and so striking that it almost knocks
bim over. « By Jpve 1 " he tepeats agâin, and stares blan|cly
at his companion.
TbereTrnqnwed Of Tûrûic^ qaestionÎBg. ÀMttMntê is~
inade douUy |ure^FeUcia andRdsàmond hù^fél are àtte,
h fi . ■?. <■ .
. )
■■■■vs^r
■'•^
**ÂfT$R MAN9 DAYS.»
-A- -y
V Si
35»
picked up adrift in tbe Paris streets is hii
need of further questions, indeed. Hc
ip abruptly and on the.spot
' hâ «ajrg. ** Thanks, very niych. And
gone, and Terry is left standing^outh and
peâri&edjpedestrian. It ail cornes upon him
T^he story of Gordon Caryll's Canadîan wife-r-the actrés»-^
- the picture — the puzzling reseniblance to Felicia — ^her eager
questions about him the ev^ning before. Terry is dumb*
founded.
" Byjove 1 " he says again aloud, and at the sound of that
dear and familiar expletive his sensés retu^n. "By Jove,
you knowl" he repeats, and j)uts . his ^ar once more be-
.' , tvireen his lips, and in a dazed state prépares to go home.
Ujj/,,' > Gordon Caryll goes |)ome too. He sees France's face at
^ the drawing-room window as he passes, lookingwistful and
•weary, and at the sight he sets his teeth hard. He cannot
m^et her. He goes up to his room, locks the door, and
fiings himself into a chair to think it ail ou t.
He has lost her — f^'^&§j^^^^ ^^^' To-morédw at the
latest she must know al$^wthen--4he knows as surely as
tbat he is sitting hère — she^ll never so much as see him
again. - . - ..
- It ia no fauhof his — she will not blanoe him— -shè will
loVe and pity him, and suffer as acutely as he will suffer him-
self. AU the same, though, she will never see him more.
And at the though$ he starts from his chair, goaded to «isort
of madness, and walks tip' and down the room. -
The hours pass. He thinks and thinks, but ail to no
purpose — ^not allthe thinking hè can do in a lifetime can
alterfacts. This woman ishis divorced wife— and France
Forrester will marry no divorced man« The /law can free
^ him from his wife, but it cantlot give him Francle. The pen*
v j^fy of his ûrst folly has not.been paid— :and it is tô be paid,
it seeros, to the uttermost farthHilr il& exile and aûsery ,
are jo begin ail oygr agai n. W^"^"^ , /
- Hë suffers tOhiQÎgb^ u seems tô hlnà, as Re/hls never mT""^
\, fyscd in ÛM pasL, Aiid as the fair February mcMming dawi»%
'S*.
:C:'
1'
%
f.
d
352
"AFTER M AN Y DAYSr
it fihds him with his face bowed in his hands, sitting stonç
still in absolute despair.
The fi^^t sharp spear of sunshine cornes jubilantly through
the glass. ^e lifts his head. Haggard and pallid beyond
ail telling, with eyes dxy and burning, and white despair on
^very Une of his face. His résolve is»taken. AU shall be
tol^ but first that there may not be even a shadbw of mis-
take, , he wil^ seë this Woman who calls herself Madame
Felida— will see her and from her own lips know the truth.
Early as it is he rings for his man, and has a cold bath.
It stands him in the stead of sleep. He makes a careful
toilet, has a cup of coffee and a roU, and goes out of the
house before any of his womankind are stirring.
The bright sunshine and bustle of the streets help him.
He smokes, and that soothes him. As eleven chimes from
ail the city clocks, JK is altogether himself again, the excite*
nient and agitatioM^o'f last night over and done with. Hé
b very pale — ^beyond that there is no change in him. ^
» He feels no anger against the woman he is going to see —
he is just enojugh for that. The fault has been ail his — ail
his also must be the atonement. But h^will see her, and
then' — . <| '^ . •*♦ '
He cannOt quite think — steady as he has forced himself to
be — of whatflvill corne after. It is very early yet to make a
. call, but he cannot wait. It is not diffictilt to discover the
address of the. most popular actress in Paris ; he does dis-
cover it, walks steadfastly there, and encapnters madame's
iflall chasseur in his gorgeous uniform of carminé and gold.
Madame sees no one at this hour, monsieur is politely
told ; it is doubtful if madame has arisen.
^ But madame will see A/M, monsieur is quite certain. Will
this Farisian " Jeames De La Pluche " be good enough to
fbrwMd monsieur's card to madame. ^ * 9
Thechasseur looks doubtful, but smiething in the English
monsiettr'ipEice causes him to comply, The c^xd is passed
onward, affi inward, until it reaches the hand of madame's
iMdH n^d by mad a me' » maid is prescnted to madam e
Mftjiiame t^ arisen — early as is the hour, \ii^ even break-
lastea ShAies back in her duflk-shaded drawing-roon^
V*-'
^ who
- ^.
face
quit
,VJ'
**AFTER MAN7
DAYS."
353
looking rather fagged after last night's unusual excitement,
with deep bistre circles surrounding her eyes. Her !ady
cotnpanion sits neatie^ing aloud. Stie lies back with closed
eyes, not listening, but thinking of Gordon Caryll's face as
she saw it last night looking down upon her.
" A visiter for madame — a gentleman," Pauline announces.
" Ican see no one, it is too early," ,madàme says crossly j
" is it M. Di Venturinf? "
" No, madame. An English gentleman, tall and fair—
Who has never been hère before."
Madame sits suddenly up, and seizes the card. Her pale
face flushes dark red as she reads the name. She does not
quite know what she has expected— ^certainly not this. For
a moment her heart beats fast.
" I will see the gentleman, Pauline," shq says. " Mrs.
Hannery, yôu must be tired of that stupid book. The
morning is fine — suppose you take Pandore [the poodle] and
go fqr a walk. It >vill do you both good, and I shall not
ne^d you."
Thus dismissed, the lady companion rises and goes;
madame turns to her maid :
, " Where is my new protégée ? " she asks. " Miss Dohny."
" In her room, madame, reading."
"See that she d<>es not leave it then, see that she does
not enter hère. Now show the gentleman up."
The maid départs. Madame springs up, darkens the
rootn yet a little more, looks at t^çrself in one of the full-
length mirrors, and^s back in her seat with drooping, languid
eyes before the door re-opens. But her heart is beating
fast, and her topaz eyes are gleaming savagely under their
white-v«iled lids.
The door opens, and he cornes in. And so again, after
many years, this man and woman, once husband and wife —
are face to face.
The first thing he sees in that twilight of the room is hia
own picture. It hangs directiy opposite the door, and the
„aunghine»-asuit opeû Sy^ ii E dls for Amoment upon it. Xike A afc
they paited, like this they meet again ! He stands for a
MCoqd motionless, looking at it, and she is the first to speak.
'.#v-
)
'■-*«!
C^'
¥■
TJ ifi
r.4""-r--
'Âii'^-^*^-
1 -^ ^ S î
&.^^^v. '<^^^^M^:m^^
354
'AFTER MANY DAYS.**
%
^■-•.
i A veiy good picture, and very well painted ; but 3 don't
think, I can't tlunlt, I ever wore such a face of despair as
that. You ought to know, though, better than I."
The slow, sweet Voice was as smooth and even as thougb
the heart beneath were not throbbing at fever beat. A cruel
lingeringsmilewas on her fece, and the yellow, stealthy eyes
were watching him greedily. He tumed as she siwke and
looked at her.
>Rosamond!"
^he st^rted at the nanie, at the low, even gentle tone, in
which Jt was spoken. Thé blood rose again over her face,
and fpr a second she foiind no voice to answer. Then she
laughed.
'' Ma foi ! " she said, " how droll it sounds to hear that ! I
had ahnost forgotten that once tvos vay name, so long is it since
I hâve heard u ? Ah, Dieu / how old it makes one feel."
A real pang went through her heart. Growing old I
Yes, surely, and to grow old was the haunting terror of this
womau's life.
"You bave changed," she said, looking at him full,
changed more than I bave. You do not resemble very
preatly the slender, fair-haired stripling I knew so long ago
«i_Toronto. And yet I should bave known youjanywhere
Mon ami, will you not sit down ?"
"Thanks," he answered in thesame low, level voice, " I
will not detain you but a moment Last night, for the first
time smce we parted at Québec, I saw you— ''^ __^
"And the sight was a shock, was it not, monsieuA?" she
•gayly mterrupted. *.
" It was," he replied gravely, " since I thought you dead.
Smce I was sure of it."
" Ah, ye^ I that railway accident. Well, it was touch and
I? T I^V"^ expect to be so near death, and escape again.
But I did escape, and— hère I am ! "
She looked at him with her insolent smile, her eyes rieam-
11 g with evil fire. *
M
" Hère I am," she repeated with slow, linfferinff eniov-
... " *F*»** your4M»tor you doei it n o t r AF
I ipoiled mine fpr me /to/ night.'
i:^-
^v;A.^s*.!,...i#.^*
■^;»â
-^-'%.
vj:
.*•
t
#
**AFTER MANY DAYS,"
355
She pointed to the ^icture— the vengefuj delight she felt
shining in her great eyeè.
" You were merciless thafc night, Gordon Caryll, and 1
vowed revenge, did I not ? Well the years hâve corne and
the years hâve gone^ we both lived, and revenge was out of
my reach. , I never forgave you and I never wiU ; but what
could rîiô ? Now we meet, and I need do nothing. The
very fact that I am alive is vengeance enopgh. It parts you
from hei:— jdoes it not ? Ah, you feel that ! Monseigneur,
I wonder why you hâve corne hère this morning?, It is cer-
tainly an honorai did not expect." '
" I came lo make assurance certainty," he answered. " I
had no ^oubt, and still — ^"
"And still you would stand face to face with me once
more. Well— there is no doubt, is there ? I àm Rosamond
Lovell— Rosaraond Caryll— the girl you married, and whose
heart you so nearly broke, seventeen years ago. Oh, don't
loflk so scornful I L- mean it 1 Even I had a heart, and I
loVed you. Loved jfou so well that if I had been able I
would hâve gone down to the river and drowned myself after
you left me that night. Fottunately I was not able. I could
laugh now when I look bac^ and think of my besotted folly.
We outlive ail that at five-and-thirty."
" You ifrere tiof able," he remsated j " that means— "
"That my child was bom tWelve hours after we parted,"
she mterrupted once more. " Did they tell you in Ouebec
that?" ^
" Yes, they told me. And Ée child is with you now."
" Who told you so ? " she demanded, sharply.
"I know it — that is enough. You ask me why I came
hère to-day— one reason was to see her." ^
She laughed contemptuously.
"And do you fancy I will let you? Why, I meant that
child from her birth to avenge her mother's wrongs. And
she shall— I swear it ? " ,,
" You refuse to let me see her ?"
*| Most émphatically— yes. When th e time comts ypn
«hall see Jwj^to^wnrtxist— not before.
,«■
♦ ■
r-
s^..
He tutned to go She rose up and sto^gd before him.
|li:^^^^^'"evsfci J ; • \
r
356
"AFTER MANY DÀyS.'
'Wliatl so soon," she said, with A laugh, «aiid aftër so
maîiy years' Réparation ? VVell. then, go-açt ons/not words
are best between us. But I think/ Gordon XVrjS
bas cpme. Miss Fraace Forrester is a veryprTudan7spo? '
less young lady-so they fell me. Hâve yKd her vet
who Fehcia the jictress is ? " ^
.C'A
x
1*,tJ'
*
N
/"
A>i*^^iJ|)^'»ii'S!
y^SgSS^^^^^-ft
Jt^' 5^ , ^3^*^^^,
• . *• T'iit
? • '/
1 - 1
K ' t' "'* '
» % ''
,i <; i
? t
/
-
■-'
ftèr so
;'; > "
words,
ly day . - ^
ispot i
'
er yet
•
■ * . - ■ '
ithout
•
of the
V
» and
I;ï
N
r
^
CHAPTER Vlir.-
A MORNING X:ALL.
,<♦',
IT is just one hour later, and Franco, Forrestei staîids
with hands clasped loosely before her at the win-
dow of Mrs. Caryll's invalid room, gazing with
weary wistfulness at the bright avenue below, a
strained, waiting, listening expression on her fade. For
since they parted last night so strangely at the entrance of
the théâtre she has not seen her lover, and when has f/uit
chanced between them before ? Something has happened !
Something wrong and unpleasant — she feels that vaguely,
although she cannot define herown feehng. How oddly he ^^
looked last night, how strangely he spoke, how singularly
he acted. Did he too know MadanîSîKJF4M:ia ? Then she
sntiled to herself. Of course not— îha^» not said so a
dozen tir»|K Madamç Felicia might h^^power over the
wedk andrunstable, such as Eric liynely; over men of
the stufF Gorden Çaryll was made, no more than the ugliest
hag that prowlerf'Paris. J*
But why did he ^|»come? " I
f^st nigl|t, long àfter the rest h^^tired,^she had waitied.
up in the salon wistfully anxious t^ptie good-night si
rarely missed. And he had entered very late, and ,.
passed on at oncç to hisroom, although hcmust hâve kno\__
she would wait. Had, he not been belated times befofe,
and had she ever failed to wait — had he ever failed to seek
her out? She had gone to bed vexed and disappointed.
But she was qot 6ne easily to take ofFence, àndlt would be
ail rtght to-morrow. He tnigÂi hâve looked into tlje salon,
but he did not--and— there Was an end to it. To-moncfff
JxtJbmakùu^hk vf ould tell he r , w hai ever it might be. So-
•l»c rose happy and light-hearted, the fag-endof a tuoe be-
K
y
t
■if ■
i. t.
,-F^
^
-^
i
E:?y ■ J
358
i\
■ if
twepn héir %s, with nd gfesei^i|n^ ail Iha^
^ late. -He wa« alway'^tdUbè, l^ond. m ,
Land slippér's reading' Gali^a%a*^^ hour. But liTs
I fW'*^^^^'" *^'* morning was vacant, and only Laç^y
ttttël her across the crystal and the silver.
■^ Gordon tu?ned lazy, I j»pnder ? " the eider lady
ilessly; «it is something tiew to miss his face at-
t>f the table. Eric and hi^^ife are coming to-day.
^••pe
the"e
.,4,1.
. ^ " One grçws so bofcpd of perpétuai sight-
seemg. I shall stay at hoMe with graiidmamma Caryll."
She had no appetite for breakfast, and whenit was over
she ran yp to say good-moming to "ferandinamma." No,
Gordoïi had not been there eithcr— his niother's first ques-
tion was for hinn. . ^
^ -•* It is the very first day he has failed to pay me a before
breakfast câll," Mrs. Caryll said, with a- half-laugh, and yet
dissatisfied. '^Can he hâve gpne out, or where is he ? "
'* I do,,not know," France answered, vaguely uneasy : " he
was not down to breakfast." .
" Not down "to breakfast ?" ' *
"He was absent rather.latç last night," Miss Forrester
said, speakmg lightly ; " nO doubt he has turned sluggard,
and oversle^t himself. Susan," she said to Mrs. CarylVs
nurse and maid, who «i^ered at that moment, " do vou
know if Mr. Caryll is still in his room ?" \ ' v
' Mr. Caryll went out three hoùrs
wom'an answered. " So I heard hi
There was a pause. \ ^
Sow very strange," Fr
lineasily ; " how -very
But ther^was no solution o,
=«ofe on, brtngifïg^ Erie=w»4=€rf„,,„^
bmnaire as ever, Crystal cjinging to
Aîiss France," the
^Notton say." y
jinking, i^ore and
irdon. Whât can it
la. Thé niornfog
. haridsomiB^'aiTCt' ~^^
I, silent, shadow/.
•\ A..r;' '^^ -• y'V^^ ■ ^«1
t
.ight-
•
over
No, ,
lues-
" '■
îfore
'\
yet
•
"he
\ ».
îster
■ * ,, '
fard,
•yH's
• V
you
the
'i
K:
i^-
and
^
n it
■
[lîhg
\.
dè.-
^
>wy.
'V.v .
■m
^èMt>.
"%
A MORNINO CALL.
359
And Lady. Dynely alone was their cû^mpanion in the dayfs
pleasuring at Saint Cloud. ■"
"1 wish you were coming, France\" Crystal said, in à
wistful whisper. Somehow, in France' s strength and sunny
brightness, even this little wilted lily seemed to reVive.
'* Not to-day, darling,'" France answered, kissing her. " It
will not do'to leave grandmamnia qùite alone., Besides,-
Saint Cloud i^an old story to me and rat^r a tiresome one.
We will, ail meet at dinner and go to the Qpera aux Italiens
together." > .
. . "Has Crystal's éloquence prevaikd, France?" Eric says
in his languid way, sauntering up':>-. ** No ? Then," with a
îlight, half-contemptuous ^gh, " the case is hopéless indeed. '
When a woman won't, she won't. I suppose we must be
resigned, although jpi^ absence spoils our excursion.
Corne, madré, corne, sposo mio. By-by, France — We meet
, again at Philippii' " \
, And then they are gone, and France draws a long breath
"of relief. Gordon will be hère prèsentlyjl àftd they mil hâve
a long, delicious day ali to themselves, and everything will
be expiai ned.
Shfe goes ih> to Mrs. Caryll's room, takes a favorite bpok,
seats herself by a window, whence no one can enter unper-
ceived, aiid tries to read. But so many pepple come in and,
go out, so many'carriages and fiacres whï^H up and down,
that her attention is perpetually distracted. How long the
hours are— how the morning drags-^will he «<?»»•' come ?
Eleven, twelve, one I Will he retum to luncheâii at twot ^
H| hardli^^er eats luncheon, but surely he will come.
HtJw d^zimgly bright the sunshine is— her eyes ache. She
rises with,, an Imtjatient sigh and closes the çuttàins. A
brass batid somewhere near is thundering fbrth%s nïusic.
They ;arç playing one df Felicia's popular airs; ' ÔKe wishes
they would ^tqp ; »the noise mfkes \&Sc head âche. Mrs.
CaryHp dozing in her chair. Thé brazen brayîng^of the
band is beginning to make France sleepy tbo, Just as her
tired éyes cïo s é, and her head droops against' th^ hack <À
"lier ehàir, Suton "KpssofHy and entera the room.
" Miss France." She bas to fepeat the name befbre the
V k
é.
» ^-^A
'fo
\^^^,^
•t
t-ç ^■'
.
'^'
w< MORNING JCALL.
i
"Miss France^there is a lady in tUe si Ion ta
|''or a momçnt her heart had bounded.
But,
|A
W\
''"À
i^
rf^i
Pb,/
360
giti looks up.
see yoù."
"A lady."
t)nly a lady ' .
" Susan," she irapatiently exclaims, " hasfî't Mr. Gordon
corne yet ? Surely he must be in his roora or—"
" No, Miss France, he hasn't corne yet. !^nd the lady^
is 'waiting in the salon — " _ •
•' Who is she ? Where is her ca^d ? î am not dressed.
I don't Mvish to see any one."
"Shewould not give her name ; she sent up no card,
She said'fShe wished to see Miss Forrester at once on very
important business."
'• Very important business ! " Miss Forrester rises, open-
Ing her hazel eyés. " Important business I " Again her
heart leaps — is it anything about Gordon? "In th^ salon,
you say, Susan ? l'U go down at once."
She goes. In the long, cool salon, the jalousies are half-
dosed, and^'iii the 'dim, greenish light a lady sits. A lady
very elegantly dressed — /w^r-^d^ressedàfit seems to France,
her face hidden by a close, black lace veil.
■" You wished to. see me, madame ? " Miss Forrester sa^s
gently, and marvelling who her veiled visitor can bè.
The lady turns, rises. "Miss Forrester?" she ^says, in^
tefrogativeiy, and Miss Forrester, still standing, bows.
"You wished to see me on important business — "
France does not finish the sentence, for the lady quietl^
remo^Ècs her veil, and they stand face to face. A ve
beautiful and striking face France se^s, and oddly famiKàr,
though for the moment she cannot pla<;e it. Only for a tno-
ment, then she recoils a step. \ ,
" Madame Felicia I " she exclaims. '*- \ /
"Madame Felicia ! " the actress repeats, with a giraceful
stage bow and a coolly insolently smile. " Now ypu know
why I did not send up my name. You would «lot hâve seen
^ine."^ ■ - ' --^
Miss Forrestei bas recovered herselC SurpriSed exce^
tatensely curioug she U «Iso^ b ^t outwa
she is only calmly, quietly coufteous.
\
■'Vst'*jf'''4'Si^
'S^së^^msswm
l- >
"'- ■•;(
fiiii
r/
t
A MOHNING CALL.
361
" Vou mistake," ehe says, in thesame coldly gentle \om ;
l 'vould haye seen you. May I ask to what I owe this
jnexpected visit ? "
She seats herself at a distance, near one of the window^
•nd glances at her Watch as a hint to be brief. Madame
ïehaa takeS the hint. The coolly insolent smile yet lingers
round the full, red lips, the yellowish black eyes (like a cat's
eyes, France thinks) hâve an exultant, triumphant light.
"I will not detain you long," she says ; «and I think
what I hâve to say wiU not Jjore you. May I ask— although '
Iknow. you hâve not— hâve you seen Mr. Gordon CarvU
this morning ?" "'
France's heart gives one leap. It is sometlÉlg àbout
Gordon after ail. Her darl^lace pales slightly ; anlshe has
to pause a second before she can quita steady her voie
"And may /ask," she say^ haughtily,^"in what wî
concerns you ?" * '
" It concerns me much moVe nearly than you think " the
actress answers. "You shalï hear presently. I know you
hâve rtot seen hmi this raohiing, else you wouldnot be sit-
ting hère with me now. I thought I would be beforehand
with hiro, and I am. I thought he would hardly hâve the
courage to corne straight from me to you."
^ The |3lood rushc^s in a torrent to France's face, to her
temples. v
j «• From me to you !" There is a great greendÉÉeiÉyes-
toimes in full bloom standing behind her. IsfUs^et
sickly odor of the flowers that turns her so deathly faint now ?
"From you to me," she repeats; ««I don't know what you
mean." •'
"I am quite sure you don't. Mr. Caryll has not been
visible hère this morning because he has been with me. He
Jeft me just one hour ané a haïf ago, ahd I dressed at once
*|pnd came to see you. You should hear the story from me
ai well as from him. I was reèolved I should hâve no more
.of your blâme than was ray due. I saw you in the box last
night at the Varieties. I saw you often last spring in Lôn-
àed good, and brave, and nobte,aniaâUhàïïfi
I care Uttle fpr tlie opinion of ihe world, of its women
16 '''■ ,
s4"
-i
ITT*-,
■1^
4^.
1 .-^jw
*rj
I
»-H'*
«j" ■
^f
#'
362 #»«««p^:f^"- ; ".
ticularly," with i^recklèss lâugh, " it is iny whimto stand as
wçU as possible with you. I felt sure I would be M^re
him. Men do not hasten to tell such % story as te bas tp
tell you." . , . r\u
Oh, the deàthly faintness of thèse jessamine flowers. Oh,
the horrible clashing, crashing of the band, whose braymg
seems to pierce her head. For a moment France turns sr-
giddy and sick that she cannot speak. The actress haï
risé'ç in alarm> r • .» 4
*' Miss Forrester ! you- are gomg to famt— . r9
But FranceJKfts her hand and motions her t\) be *till.
"Wait,*' she says, almost in a >^fc)er. "You tt;
frightened me. I am ail rightagain. Tfow „
She sits uprigtit with an efifort, clenches her haiids togç
in her lap, and sets her teeth. , . /, „ j
" Go on ! " she sayï^almost fiercely, and Ijbks Madame
Felicia full in the face. ' J
The isolent smilè, the exultant hght, h^e died out of the
dark#fii(^|pf the dançer^ In its stead afouch of pity ha?
coipe. After ail, this firl is to suffer as she suflFered once—
andffihe remembers wel|jvhat Ma/ n?«fens.
k "*i[iss Forrester," she says, gravely, "dld you notice
nothing unusual in Mr. Caryll's looks or manner last night
j|Uhe Varieties— last night, ^hen he saw me ?"
^b'id she ? Md she not^ The ashen pallor of his face, th^
lïusky tone çf^ voice, and his aWupt departure !
" Go on," shestoirundçi: her^^ath 2îa:ain. '
Madame
le fSSIi^^tMne o*er qu^ion," says
You are to marry Cordon Caryll? "
tjranswer by.no volition of her own. Even at
u... ..iv/i»»". it strikes her— what an odd thing that she,
Frande Forrester, should be s^tting hère answering whatever
question^ this dancing-woman Chopses to ask.
" You know his «ory, of course— that he had a wife, that
he was divorced. Ypu think, you ail thirik, he is a wid-
ower.
TC9| ^ faillie oaji
and duUy, " he is a wictower."
th<?«tme
»■■.,;
mss'jsssigg
'•A.
"'\,"
:^,.
%
'^w'
/< MOkmNG èÀLL.
363
" He is «<»/ a widower," Madame Felicia cries, with 01 le
flash of herblack eyes— *«no more than I am a widow. ffé
thought me dead, thonght me killed in a rail way accident.
I wàs not. For seventeèn years we hâve not met. Làst
night wé lid. Miss Forrester, I am Gordon Car)'ll's wife ! "
" His wife I '* France has known it before it is said.
" Hi3 wife ! his wife ! " How oddly i| sounds. She is con-
scious of no acute pain-^her principal wish, as she listens al-
most dreamily, is that that hohrible band would cease and
that she could get away from the smell of thèse jessamines.
y You do not seem to understand, Miss Forrester," Fe-
licia cries sharply. •« I repeat, I ara Gordon Caryll's di-
vorced wife."
"I understand," France says, dreamily. « Go on."
" Does it not matter to you, then ? " madame cries still
more sharply. "Would you marry a divorced man ? "
" No. Go on."
There is a nioment's silence. It is évident her quiétude
puzzles madame. It cannot puzzle, her any more than it
does France héfse^. By and by^ she feels diinly, she will
suflfer horribly.; Just at présent she feels in the hazy trance
of the lotus eaier, listeniug to the music of the band, looking
at the sunshine, lying in broad, golden bands on the carpet,
inhaling^the $c§nt of the jessamîhe. fc*e day of her death
those wi}l tui-n her sick and faint. m MÊL
** Go on," she says quite gently, "AMo get beyond thèse
two words, and madame incisively ^w on.
s " He recognized me last night," she says, heï voice hard-
ening as she sees how quietly the other takes it. " I had
recognized him long before since I saw his picture at thé
Academy, ♦ How the Night Fell.' Well— last night he saw
me, and, naturally, knew me at once. I hâve nctt changed
much— so they tell me."
There is a pause — madame watching her, half îrritated by
her pr©found calm. Mi|s Forrester watching the flickerkag
bars of light on the ca;rpfêt.
' ** Is itjher trainin^or is it want of^ferfînp ?" tht» « çt r^M
î^ondèii. « No, I think not that. TTiey are ail alike—these
aristocrats— j-ead^ to stand like a red Indian and die gam«
,*"':, 43
► r
f
'^-- Jx/^s4¥a^ .:.;
;! <■
S4'"i**K.
>■
1 i
364
A MOÈ^^ING CALL.
I fancy his slumbers were rather disturbed last night," she
goes on, with a hard laugh ; " he looked like it thiâ, morning
wheii 4ie came to me."
mUss Forrester lifts her eyes from the carpet, and looka at
Felicia. " Why did he go to you ? " she asks.
" Chiefly, I think, because he wanted to mSke certainty
more than certain, partly because he knew his child— wr
child— was with me, and he wanted to see her."
A pang that is like a red-hot knîfe-thrust ^oes thrpugh
France Forrester' s- heart. Our child I Yes, this woman haa
been his wife, is the mother of liis'thild. She gives a ^tle
gasp. , . ^ ' <
'• You— you let him see her ? "'
" I did not let him see her — I am not quite a fool. As I
told him he shall see her one day to his cost. She is raine,
and I mean to keep her. His nanïé he took from me— his
child he cannot." \\
There is silçnce again. The pity has dted eut of Felicia's
face; it is hard, and bitter, and relentless as she speaks
again.
^' AU the evil he could work me he did. I loved him and
he left me— he cast me off with scorn and hatred. I swore
revenge ; but what can a woman — even a bad woman — do ?
Look, hère. Miss Forrester ! " Her voice rose rapidly and
her eyes flashed. " In marrying me he fell a victim to a
plot, an unscrupulous plot, I don't deny. I was not Major
Lovell's daughter ; I was no fit wife for such as he— I was
taken from the lowest concert-room of New York city. When
I was a baby I was thrown upon the streets ; I had to make
oiy own living, and earn the crusts I lived on. I knew no
mother, no father, no God. To make money— to wear fine
clothes anyhow-— that was my religion. Lovell came and
took me, and Gordon Caryll saw and fell in love with nie.
He asked.no questions — he married me. And I loved him
with a love that would hâve been my earthly salvation, if he
had let it. I was true to him, in thought^ and word, and
action; I would hâve given my life for him. Then Lovell
J, and dying toid iHS-sto ry. Liée, and hidmyself-É
his ûrst fury ; 1 knew he would take my life if we met And
\^
i
'^f^t^
'è<.
'9
y
A MORNING ÇALL.
3<î5
then. months after, he found me biit, and spurncd me as he
would a dog, and showed me the decre^f divorce, and Icft
me forever. M.ss Forrester, I wM a^fSS, I know, Lut I fell
down there on the sands whereTè quitted me like a dead
woman. It would hâve been bett^r for him and for you lo-
I Yrâ ^ *"° '^*'^'"' ^^"^^' '* '^ ^ ^"^ ^'^'^- ^*-' ^^^^
; She, broke oflf abruptly. In the dark eyes looking at her
. 5he read nothmg but a great and ibfinite pity.
• "Poor soull" France said, softly, ««you loved him, and
werehiswife. It was hard on yoi^.''
Madame shrugged her shoulders. ; ''''
««I hâve survived it, you see. Men die and worms eat
them but not for lovel That ni^t my baby was born.
1 he/e is the story You hâve heardlt oftén before, no doubt.
He »s diyorced-I cannot stop yoiii/ marriage. Do as you
will— only I had to conie and tell yôu this." .
She arose as shé spoke. France stood ub, tôo, and drew
a step nearer. '^' ' ^^
" Madame," she softly said, wistful- wonder in her eyes.
do you— do you love him yel ?" '
Once more madame laughed.
• « Love 1 Ma foi ! it is years since I knew what the word
lueant. Only fools e ver love. Not I, Miss Forrester ! 1
hâte him as I do-well, not the devil-forf hâve nb reason
to hâte htm No, no ! 1 1 would be strange, indeed, if I did :
I finished svith ail that forever the evening we parled by thé
Québec, shore. I am to marry the Prince Di Venturini in a
î?°" ,,'i!i' "'*"y'"g and loving— well, they are diflferent
tnmgs i^'OV
•i^ jit t^ .H^^T °^ ^'"5 «* " France asked, hardly know-
»^g wi|yw& did ask.
;^nH^f?'^.yï*'î"u' ^ Not 3iet-not at ail if I can heip it
And I don t thmk he ever wiU. Mr. Caryll will not telL aftd '
I.am quite sure I shall not." *» *?"
iShe nioved to the door ; on the threshold she paused.
ngry with me for coming ?" «he A t^ ^i^y^^.,^
Kbruptly;
U
'•'v^'ri-
. ''1
i
^t
MORNING CALL.
"Angry?" France echoed, wearily. "Oh^ft<^ why
should I be?" . , . ,
Angry ! No, sh.e was angry with no one. She felt tired
and sick, and worn out— she would like to be alone, to
darken her room and lie down, and get away from the dis-
tracting music of that ceaèeless bànd, frOp the dazzling glare
ofthè sunshine, from^ the heavy.odor ôf the flowers. But,
angry— no. A touch of pity crossed agam niadame s hard,
insolent béauty. " „ , , j j
" I ani sorry for you," shè' said. "You look good and
gentle— you deserve to be happy. »YeS, I aw^ sorry for
''^And then she had left the xg>om, and her sUks were rust-
ling down the wide stairway, and France was atone.
Alone ! She leaned her folded arms on the Uble, and laid
her face down uport them and drew a long, tire,d sigh. It
was ail over ; and the woman was gone, and out of France s
life ail the happiriess was foiueyer ggne, too.
Gordon's wife ! How strangely it sounded. She was t
, bave been that-.»he^ever could be now. If he were de^
and in his coffin, she could not be one whit more widowM
^than she was. TherIVas a dull sort of âçhing at her heart
—but no acute pain. ' She wjlfered at hêr pwn.torpor.
Thé band was striking uMTother tune, She could not
endure that. She arose and toiled slowly and weanly up the
stairs to her own room. The great hôtel was very stiU. She
re^ched hercharaber, lowered the blinds, threw herself face
downward on the bed. ' >, «•^
" Gordon's wifé ! Gordon's wife 1 " Over and over, like
some refrain, the words rang in her eàts. Then they gl^w
fainter and fainter— died çut aUogether ;, £nd,in the inidstol
bér great trouble France feil fast asleejK ♦ ^
■î-'r
*ï
^\*
;S*;.^
>K.
,i
,■*
■»■■
V'.-
:,!♦
1
f
jà^
Vi -*H,V
'>^>
'M-'U .''
:,f
v^^
^1, 1.
^^■•■fS'Jf
red
to
dis- .
But, '„ ' \
1
and ' \ "
for • ,
ust- /
laid «
leàdî^'-^jw,- :
wed, ^^m
leart '^^^^<
<
<.
1»*/ ^
Dthe ^^^■
She
face- ■■' • • .
like
glfew
Istof
■ ... * ^^
' .» "
fi.
■?î
o ;v
CHAPTER IX.
"THE PARTING THAT THEY HAD."
HE last amber glitter of the sunset waa gleaming \
through the closed jalousies; and lyitig in broad
yellow bars on the carpet, when France awoke.
Awoke with a gr'eat start, suddenly, • and broàd
awake, her horrible trouble flashing upon her with the viyid-
ness and swiftness of lightning. Gordon's wife was alive ;
sAe could never be that ; she must give him tip at once and
forever. Then a pi^siorj^te sensé of desperation and miset-y
seized her. V
" I canMt ! I cannot \*' she cried out, tlenching her
hands and flinging hersejrface dowtiward among the pillows.
"Oh, I cannot give him up ! " ^
The yellow light flickered, fade4 g>ew gray. One hv o»\e
the golden "bars aslant the carj^et slid out »>f sight, len
minutes niore and the closed room wa« iilii|i>Ht dark. And i
slowly the wild tempeit cOystv^rical «ob» wà» subsiéing, toc
violent to be Içng-livéd, hiPFvance Forrester did not move.
Presently it died away aLbPgether, and kneeling by the bed-
side, hèr face -bowed in Jier hands, she was se«kin(f jbn*,
strengtl\ to bea| her bittersouow where strength" alçMe i»n
be fdttnd. . . ; S
.«^Th<jru w|K)se life wisis ail trouWe," France's souPtried,
" helt» me to beaV this-l " i %* '
Np thought hàd evj^ conie to her tha^he wal frec— that *
legally s"he niighjt becpme«his wife to-niorro* tn ail honor * ,
brfpre the.>world. Héf Fiei^h mptber had reared hqr îjpi a ,•'
faim which te&ches that "dlifj>rce. is vnpossible —a ifâitK Which*'.. >;•
holdts ittarriâge^^ sacrameht, too liply to be broken by law 6(
man, iii which, "until deatl) dofli »e.i^»çt;" îsjneant in th«. •
\
r 1
AT / fuIle^AnTmwt'awlllT sëA^ of th¥wdS[s. Hi?|^ne7n«^
' ♦
•!%
mBm
^m
,-3%^ A^
^^ ,* ^* iW-^' ^~ <» r ^r-v .n .
à.
■m
W '■'^'''
368 "7!«ff PARTING TffAT THE Y HAD**
' r^if '^^"^' ^^J^ough she were PrincessJ)i ^enturini within
the hour— and she and Gordon, even astriends, must meet
no more Friends l Ah, no, they could never meet as that • '
and so they must meet just once, and say good-by forever! .
bhe got up at last, utterly exhausted in body and mind;
How still the vast hôtel was. How dark the room had
grown. She drew up the blinds in a sort of pânic and let in
the gray Jight of evening. It was almost night. Perhaps
txordon had corne and was waiting for her. She must go to
hira at once, at once.
"Oh, my poor dear," she thought, "you hâve .borne so
bîow ?^'^" "^'^^ "°^ ^^^^ ^^^" ^^^^^^ ^^^^ '^^*' •^^"«'■«st
She went down stairs without pause. If he had returned
at ail, he would be in the salon; he would not tell his
mothèr until he had^.told her— that she felt. She never
stopped to thmk of h* white cheeks and swolleh eyes • he
was alone and m tro^uble, and she must go to him.
Yes, he had come. As she softly pushed the doo'r dpen she
saw hmi. He was sitting where she had sat three hours ago.
Three hours ! was it only that ? Three years seemed to
hâve passée! smce this morning. He sat, hîç folded anrts on
the table, his head lymg on them— his whole attitude de-
spairmg and broken down.
He did not hear her as she entered and crossed the room,
neither heard nor saw, until she laid Ode hand lightly on his
shoulder and spoke. .
" Gonlop ! "
Then he looked up. To her dying day that look would
haunt her, so full of utter, inanité despair. Those hageard, '
hopeless eyes might almost hâve told her the stor^ha^
Madanie Fekcia never come. Haggarfl and hopeless as they
were, they were quick even in this suprçme hour to sec the
change m her. * ^^ •
. « You hâve been crying?" ^e said. ^fc"\
Jfc> ail the montjis they had been togethWlkhad nevèr
semithe trace.of tears on France's happy face before. The
sight of thoae swollen eyelids anrf t^Ar.M^ft^ ,y^^^^y^ f^^rnrk
hlm now as with a sen&e of actual phvsicaï païnr
•Av.
4
t*
"TffE PARTING THAt/ THEY H AD.
3O9
1»t»
"What is it?" he asked. "/lU news travçjs apace,' bu}
I hardly think," with a harsh sprt of laugh, " mine can liave
reached you already. France, my own love, what is rt ? "
But she shrank away, draw^hg her hahd frona his grasp, and
covering her eyes with the dth^f.
" Oh, Gordon, hush I " she cried out ; " I cannot bear it.
I ," with a great gasp, *' l know ail."
"Alll" His face turned of a dùU, grayish pallor, his
eyes never left her. " France, do you know what you are
saying? What do you mean by ail ?"
" That— that " No, her dry lips wôuld not speak the
words. «' Madame P'elicia has been hère," shè said, with a
quick desperate gesture, ané walked away to the window.
The bright street below was dazzling with gas-lights—
golden stars studded the violet February sky. Carriages
fiUed with brilliant ladies flew ceaselessly by— the brilliant life
pf the most brilliant capital^îîof the world was at its height.
And France leaned her foréfiead ^against the cool glass and
wondered, with a duU sicknesf of heart, if only this time
yesterday she had indeed been^ipppier.than the happiest of
theni ail.
Gordon Caryll had risen from his chafr and stood Jooking at
her, actually dumbfounded by Mèr lasê' words. In whatever
way she niight hâve heard the tcpjthsomè truth, he had never
thou^ht of this— that sAe would hâve Ihe untôld audacity to
force aîi entrànce het*.
y France ! " he exclaimed, a dark flush of intehse anger
crimsoning his face; "do jott mean what you say?— that
woman has dared corne hère?"
*' Yes/' she sai<^, weanly. " Ah, don't be angry, Gordon.
What does it mattef, àmx I tmmtt kijow it ?— what différence
Who tells the taie? ilMr is not », blâme, poor soûl, for
being tdlve.' •
*' PûÉ» soûl î '" he nspcatt, io a ittange, tense tone. " Do
you mem Felicm^ th«t utterly vile and abandoned é-eaturé?
14 it potHble you piiy A^f" %
" Wtth ail my heart, GordoiBU.-roore, alrriost, than I pity
.wlf, uiul I du piiy.uiy self," Fianc e brô i, wirhu'
m pati:
f*
pathwg in her voice, •* ( was »o bappy— so happv 1 "
."^i
.. 4
■ .■..■^T&-..
W'f'j''
t...."
THE PARTING THAT TUE Y H AD. ^*
stood for a moment silpnt— struggling, it senned, with
rebelliou's heart. The angry glow faded from hia
^ace. In its place an infinité sàdness came.
"Whçn did she corne?. Will you tell me whât shé
said?" he asked. '
"Bhe came this afternoon— aboirt three. It seems like a
whole lifetime apo, soraehow^," France answeted, in the same
weary way, passmg her hand across her eyes ; " and she tôld
me she was your-^yôur wîfe." ■
And then suddènly tier strength breaks down, her voice
faltefs and fails, and she clenches her hands together, and is
silent. ^ t
"She is nb wife pf mine i" he says, fiercely. " Years agb
the law freed me from the maddest marriage ever madman
màde. Francç, why shoiild we sacrifice the happiness of
our whôle Hyes to her? Let us sefher^t défiance. Sheis
no more to me— and you know it— than any of the painted
women,who dànced with her last night. She shall nof part
lis. She shall not^/ilight your life as she has mine. France,
I cânnot give you up— don't look at me like that— I tell
you I will notgfw*.^ on up. You shall be my wife.'^ ^
She made nostruggle as he held her hands. She stood
and looked at him, in grave calm.
" Ijet me go, Gordon T* is ail she says, and with a soi-t of
groan, he o\^y^. ** I cUn never be your wife now, and you
. knqw it. l'àrh sorry for you, sorry for payself, sorrier than
1 can say '^ 6nly if jure, are to part friends, never speak to me
again like that" .,
He turned fçom her, his brows knit, his lips set.
"Forgive me," he said, bitterly; "I will not offend
again. Jt is easy for you, hb dbubt, to givé me up ; I was
but adoubtful prize from fifst to last — no oneknows it
better than I ; but you see it isnoi quite so e^y for me.
ï hâve grown to love. yûM, m the mià dnd idiotie way it»
whiçh I hâve donc most things ail my life ; and that woman
(whora you honor with your pity, by the i»ay,) has made
«uch an utter failure of the beat part of it, that noi^, when".
hope and happiriess-were niine ohce more, it seems iath«>r
J"^, <*■
p
l
#•
^^ i
"Hard she shouW «<>pj'up to n^kfc ai^ end c£ it «14, j hayr
m.
„.»♦
. •^. i»'
^'•^•.:
}^-:
■/•^
,^ iHfHiiiSfâ,: Haum^i.ftmim:
shê
^^'^è iW^^lf 'i^Ft??
l
** •^\t\' "î^^ ^i*jj^»,
.i'i>.
ti
TffE PARTING TffAT THEY ffAD.» 3,^,
it
She.looked dow/î at him with ' eyes A sorrovyful wonJer
and reproach. Was this Gordon-her lW>, her «man^
— »V
o(
he murmurs. «-Forgive me, France ; ypu are right, as^ou
always are-you are ail that is hrave, and noble, and
'JeTstek" ^^~ "^^^ "''""*^" ^!^^ y^'^y
'«.^«^i!"® K*?^""^ i*^sile,nce, and both look out at the gasiil
;gmoranfta below. while the hçavy minutes pass. So lonir
"^utï"""^ ïl'' ^''^^ ^^^'^^^ 8^°^* frightened, and breaJti
n wicn.an enort. ' . ■■)
'«Y9u^n<?wherlastnight?"sheaA8. \ 1
-htoL-iru*^'" ^^ ^"swçrs, in â^dull, élow way; " the very
St,Ti?^ W^fA ' France, dô you rwoHect the night
nfirf ^.?^"^'^^* ***" ^*** *"*""'" ^ I «a'«^ her portrait that
»'ght— the Yi gn yttfp > ypu ^rmep -* ^ — *^ " ■ - •■
^i-L'
Ht H
(( '
" Easy for me ! " she repeated, her lips quiaerin* « Ybu
were but.a .doubtful prize^ fron^^ fi?stf Ah, I haye
not deserved that. I don't knovTfhether hearts breakL
I suppose «ot. haï 1 feel as if mine were breaking tè-
night See, GordS"û>,^l love you so dearly-so greatlî,
that there ,s nothmgOn earth J 'would not do for you! suffô; •
divorced wife hves, is to my mind one of the blackest, most
neinous cnmes any woman canicdmmk. AU- my life I will
love you-I could not help that if I would^all my life I
enough to bear without that." ° ' "^"
Her words, her tone, tpuch him strangely and tenderly. ^
iÏMnf°^?'K -^'"^ temptation^ach dies out, nevertô
heSks u ^^ '" ^"'^^ the shado^of a smUe on his lips as
"' I could not love thee, dear, so mach-
Loved I not^onoir more i » »»
* >%
V'.
•ralUes; and. I fBcognized the face. But I would W be-
îf-'
1 .
V .^H)
♦^
T^^'tT «î- '•%';
i-J*.;*!^**^,' ^-f^'^
/
372 "'^SEPARTIlfG ThMtHEY HAD.» ' '
lièvè jr— it seemed tbo horrible to'be true It was .nm^
— QPewho resenibted her, I said to mvself :, llZ-
. haps: butshewasdeadlKleadbiyoXtSu uT^^ÎZ
beiiare what we wish to belifve. I hever thoulhr nf ^h
ag^ until she stood before me on the stlge " ^ °^ ''"'
"We ail suffer for.the sins of others," France savs an.l
somehow savs it, bravely. " We might ail sS ta^^ the
' S'5^^ '^'. %?^ °^-' Cusaders L our staff o'f streng 'h
sinT it if n/in 'nevitable-don't let us talk of it_:
Y^s^wL" thlrrn^^înfngT.'^'^ °'^^''^"^' '^"^ -^—
„ " î. '!■"'■ t' ""*'^'' "> "■*' assurance doublv- sure as thev
S^w^rdtrrrdrCure;:f"rx"-/r' ■
an end tS Î TT'^""' "?"^ ^ '^"^^ ^» hope was at
oJa ^t^^"' ^ ^^^ «"^"^ed seventeen vears a^ in
Canada was before iue-Madame Felicia. I lingeredTut a
few moments— rt was her hour of veneeance 3 7 ,w l
Snoth^p.?^'"*''^ *"" theeJdTwXhe"rii<S'';r,^
her'u^'^*"^ '°'^- ■"'■ °''' ^"'<'° ' " *= «°"l<i but givel^
mrt Vrr^ Tw - ^ ." °° ^' guardian for any young
Ai bnefly as pn.,.iM^ r-Ti^rll nu i uftliL uud uumici w
"J^Vj^ %'"
t
t
I
a
g
c
t(
F
in
w
* ^
_ - î'^prft ^.^l^,A
-^jm^-^
', f
; •■ rm PAItTING TUAT TJKy HAO.- 37
btt *e7 ""' "='" ""^"^ ■•»' bringing _,he gin .0
.n.sMs"ïx his. ' YS/^rLv' ''r "° ■"^" i— ■■'
France? All?"'~.. ^ ™' "'" "»'"' ■»/ telling hiniall,
• Your- mother, of course au
will be a blow to her.'? ' ^0°^ grandmainma ! it
' J5^*^a"ght at her words.
;; Cxordon you knowr you must." /
stay with your mother. of co„r«r f ' ■.. f X°"' P'*"=« '»
totake me back .o England a, o„ce" """ "' ''''''' ''^'""J'
once Se No! l'^m .'S. wt^K ''tf ""'• " "<"■«!- »>«
•tely-to-morrow •• *^ '" ''* ">=« »> ! and immedi-
they must say good-by and forever I" ^Vt -
» A ■ -^ 6""«j-uy ana îorever
A carnage whirledupbeforethehor*.? Ti, ^
»nd Eric, lookincr nn..»^«--u" V"^ ™- . Thç door 0|>en^ ^
Dy his day's •• on dr.ty."/
France—" ' '^ " '""'• ^ "l»" "ot »ee Her again.
« Ijve bestXTnl„rb5r,i";ïf fJL= "?,'?'"= "■> 'he fe«
■•gh. Gordon I» 7h-cdu\ A ■ ^^"'l't'S ''■''' ^"^
m
374 ">W-fi PARTI NG TUÂT THE Y ffAD*> ^
• * '■
" You will Write to — to your motber ? " X
*' Yes, I will Write. I will sefe her now and say good-by
I will see Dennison, too, befdre I leave Paris. Oh, niy
France ! my France ! hoW can I give you up ! "
There were footsteps and voices.in thé hall — pn the stairs.
One moment and the Dynelys would be upon them.
" Goôd-by, France ! good-by ! good-by ! "
And then he was gone. And France, breathless, and white,
had fallen upon the sofe, feeling as tfcough the wh(^e world
had corne to an end.
C
I» ' ■ -^''
VY
\'
S.
4
<s
\
^
>^:a*
i
\
•^
ï
tik.-tiii?L 'i&.'-,ÀJtAt&4i
^-^r-
V
C
^
I »
d-by
njy
bairs.
hite,
orld
\
'\ .
CIÎAPTER ^
'ir ANV CALM, A CAUl D|SPAIR."
[Fthey would not corne in, if shecould be alone— that
seemed the only thought of which France was con-
scious, asshe lay there, utterly unàble for the time
being to speak or move, knowing, in a dazed sort
of way, what a ghastly face the wax-lights would show them.
Uh, to bé alope— to be alone I "*
She had her wish. A swish of silk, a flutter of pérfume,
the saloon dooi* flung wide, and Lady Dynely's voice saviac.
' impatiently : j j j /s.
"AU darkness, and cold»KP, and solitude. Where can
they be.? where is France 2*^
" With Mi:s. Caryll, raampia,^ Crystal's soft vdîce suggests.
• It looks dreary— that great, gilded saloon : let us; go up
tolyour boudoir." •> B l'
So they go, and France fcels as though she had eséaped
some great danger. She riseâ» feeling;stiff and strange, and
gropes her way out through^he darkness, and up to her own
room. She has to pass Mrs. Garyll's -^dooi: ; she pauses a <
moment, while a passionate longing to enter there, at ail
nsks, to look on his face once iriore, eveh to bidhim stay, .
seizes her. Her wedding day is so neaf— oh, so near— and
they hâve been so mfinitel)jJiappy togçther. Whàt right
has that wicked, dancing, pail^ woman. to corne and tear
them apart? For a moment she listens to the tempter,
then she claàps her hands over her eyçs, and rushes up to
her room. Lights are burning hçre ; çhe locks the doqr, and
throws herself on the bed, there to lie motionless, sleepless,-
m the long night throu A'
The Djrhejgg^ij^ l ^jl ^ 1^ icc m n ,
whar has becoïne of-<MBarylls and Mis^ Forfestçr. Ux%.
Vi^k
'-hi
4f
fef
376 "//^ v4Arr CALJH, A \£ALM DESPAJlt.'*
Caryll's rooin is forbidden — her mistress is ill to-night, the
maid gravely tells Lady Dynely. Even she cannot be ad-
mitted. Miss Forrester's door is locked, and Miss Forrester
may be deaf or dead for ail the attention she pays tp knocks
or calls. It is really very odd, and Lady Dynely wopders
about, it, ail through the rather duU family dinner, to her
son and daughter. 4
Rather dull ! It is horribly du 11 to Eric. He forfeits a
banquet at Francetti's this evening, with half a dozen congé-
niai spirits, for this " bosom-of-his-family " sort of thing, and
worse still, forfeits his stall at the VariétéSy to do escort duty
for his harem, to the Opéra aux Italiens. But since he is
in for it, he does^ it with tolerably good grâce, and Crystal's
moonlight little face lights, and smiles corne to the pale
She says little, but she is happy. Eric has been hei
owh ail day — will be her very own until noon to-
irçow. Beyond that shê does not look — " unto the dav,
day."
Dinner ends, and they go to the opéra. Patti sings, and
the grand opéra house is brilliant with ladies in marvellous
toilettes. If France were only hère, Eric thinks, as he
struggles manfully with his tenth yawn, ^ would not be so
bad, but a mân cast over wholly to the tender niercies ofjiis
mother and his wife, is an object of compassion to gods and
men.-
About thç time thcDynely party take their places in their
private box on the grand tier, Gordon Car>11 opens the door
of his niother's room, and passes out.
He goes up to his room, where his valet awaits him, and
gives his few orders. A portmanteau is to be packed at
once — he (the valet) is .to follow with the rest to Liverpool,
before the end of the weék. That-is ail — and the man
listens with an immovable, wooden face, outwardly, in direst,
blankest wonder v/ithin.
his niaster départs, •' if this hère
ht we was going to be noarried,
and now we're up and hoflf 'ol
hoverjto Liverpool. I wonder
"Blessed," he says, as
ain't à rum go ! I thou
at the British Hembass
foot, with ail our luggaj
=<vfeere^?ego Iwfrerthat
» >. ^f ■
■ m.^^iiwa
"?
■■.-i'V '■'' ■ ■
V-
■%■•
/
•«// AJVy CALAf, A CALM DESPAIX»
Nevada-
. were going to Amen^nnce again^to California-
But Hfe'j/? ^ À ^°/ t<^geé-that could never be'l
w^ ÎM '^^"^^d' amid perpétuai hàrdship and adventure
am,d wUd rçgions and wilder men. would be more ea iJ
dragged out w.thout hope than else^here. ^
Her whnï h '^■' °° .^his match, ar,d it was never tobè
" I wôuld rather gô," he had said ; " not to forget, not to
sufTer less-I do not hope that, I dô not even wish it h ,î
nSe""°i?^ '"' '^V"^ "°"'^^^' theSX'hL' w
ensue. ,1 am a coward, if you like, but I underwent the
Dausï ''?T w-n f '^ ^°u ''•''''" ^" ^^'^' ^f^«^ a moment's
?.n . . ^i^' stay wuh you, and," another pause. '•J/i^r
can return to England with Lucia Dynely "
But the molher, whose life was bound up in him, clasped -
herarmsabouthisneck, andanswerçd: ' ' ""'^"P^"^
You must go, Gordon. France is right— she can never
fo'r Cb'ofh' "v'' ^'^^ "°'"^" "^^^' -^- parling is bes
S^u " ""'' ^°^ ^"^ '"^y "^^^^"'« Wessing be
^ And then there had been a parting, so sad. sd solemn
^o?f nfc u^^ fierce «rrath and hot rébellion had died
ver^ «.1.'°'""*'°''' '^''" ^^^ "°'"^- He had left the^otel,
' wîsT ïnctrg'Jd^'^^' ' ^"^^ ^^'^^" °'^ ^' ^^-' ^"^ °^he^'
He must see Dennison before he left. He went to the
seen a face I knour since noon, Was at your'placermd
^%à'â
t\-4
\iA
\
î
è*ii".<; îi.Tfg
' " <- ,
•«
'
(
-^t ^^. _
* f
f>
. '
.-
' .' "■ l
/ '
■•■5 ■
'
^' .':
. A ..f
• - -^ ' -
•
/
,/■- -.
■^- -' ,'
■■1
^^^^1
♦
V
j
i
f
;
1
:..
»,
1 .
.
>i
•
' •
*«
(y
f
..■' i _,
, '
•■
^
t
r . ')
\y
\
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
1.0
l.l
2.0
■ 40
11.25
1.8
U 11.6
II
C^
//
4.
//
'* A^l?
'^
<^ 4i,
y.
%
MiobMaphicr—
Saenœs
Corporation
WEST MAIN STREET
WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580
(716) 873-4503
M'i^ , }^^
i! '^'
A3^Fî^%r«!Sf'^?^^?^:yf^
.*•
p>-.''-' ■* '
378
•*/F ANY CALM, A CALM DESPArRV
p9t -
found the family invisible— dead or sleeping. Eric is doing
the rAAr of Master Tommy Goodchild— trotting out thc
raadre and Crystal, and making a martyr of himself, I know.
But I say, old boy, anything wrong, you know ?. On my life,
now I look again, you seem awfully seedy."
" We can talk in the street, I suppojse ? " Caryll answer»,
abruptly, and taking his arra. " I hâve soniething of im-
portance to say to you. Corne this way. Denni^on, l'in
off to-morrow !"
" Off?" Terry repeats the word and stares.
«Off for good and ail— to return no more— to the othèt
end of the world. It's ail up betf een me and— Terry, can't
you guess ? I thought you did last night. Mad«me Felicia
is my divorced wife." —
There is a pause, a speechless, breathless pause. Mr.
Dennison looks at the moon, the stars, thesky, the streets,
the gaslights, the people, atid ail spin round. At last, '« By
Jove ! " he breathes, and is still.
Carylljdoes not speak— his mouth is set ngid and hard
behind his beàrd. They walk on, and the silence grows
uncomfortable. Terry in desperation breaks it first.
." I thought she was dead," is what he says.
' " So did I," Caryll aqswers ; " so did thçy in Canada, so
the pàpers said. She is not, however. Madame Felicia
seventeen years ago wàs my wife ; the girl you rescued on
the streets two nights ago my daughter." *
" Little Black Eyes ! By Jove I " Terry aspirâtes agam.
" I fancie^ you must hâve suspected something of this
■ince last çight. I recognized her at the théâtre. I visited
her this tnorning. There is not a shadow.of doubt. The
dancer, Felicfe, is my divorced wife." .-,_.., ,
" By Jove 1 " once again is ail Terry can say, in tas blank
amaze. " And France ?" he asKs, after a pause. <;|j
"AU is at an end there. In France'» creed there i» no
such thirtg as divorce. I am a» muoh the Jwsband of Felicia
as though that divorce had never been."
There is another uncomfortable silence. What is Terry
tq ny ? Tnn»nry m nA fa r t fl r«» Mt no rime hi ». But gilen cg_
'■l
Ubetter
1 -'l
*^^B-V'
<■!
'^^k^
'1 l<
**IF ANY CALM, A CALM DESPAIR»
%
-jp«
3/91
\ So I ^ta going away," Caryll résumes, steadily ; « and I
leave my mother and France in your chargé, Dennison. 1
go*tomorrow. When does^our leave expire ? "
" In a fortnight."
"There will be ample time, then. My wother proposes
. returning to Caryllynne ; you will escort her thither. For
the rest, Lady Dynely will be told the truth,. but no one else
—least of ail, Eric There will be no end of conjecture,
and gossip, and mystification, no doubt, but since none o£
us will be hère to-hear it, it won't greatly matter."
"But," Terry hazards, "will j^^keep the secret? They
'say women never can, you know ?"
A cold smile lights Gordon Caryll's lips.
' u "7''"^'^ ^^^^ *^^" i^ is to their own interest. Felicîa
has fooled M. Di Venturinijnto offering to make her his wife
The wedding, I am told, is to take place soon. Ife Bas no
idea that she has ever been married— she has lied to him
-f " from first to last. It is her interest ta hold her tongue, and
now that her revenge is satisfied she will."
" Ifs adeuced bad business, Caryll, old fellow," Terry says,
gloomily. " l'm awfully sorry. Confound the woman ! ie
seeras bom tô work mischief and deviltry to every man sb«»
meets." , / / ^««««r
" Another thing, Dennison," Caryll pursues, taking* no
heedj "what I pnncipally wished to speak to you abôut,
is my daughter. Ry fair nieans or foui, she must be taken
from her mother and given to me. And, Terry, for tbis I
Ipok to you."
" To me ? " Terry repeats, blankly ; " but how ? I can't
go to Fehcia and demand her, I can't watch my chance and
steal her away. Hang it, no 1 She^s a female fiend, and I
owe her no good turn, but still she is the girl's mother, ahd
as çuch has a right to her. I suppose she 's fond of her ? "
"She IS not. Fejicia never was fond of any human being
but herself. She would send the girl adrift to-morrow, only
jt adds to her revenge to retain her. She will not treat her
kindly, of that I ara sure; and before the week dBds the
lyor childjrilUi ec d but the e fltef to fl y . Mymotfae rT^
^adly receive and care for her. Terry, you miwt see bn 4^.
"■if.
■<>T4 » 4M
M
-;*: i
4 •^•■..
• t
380 "/^ ^^y C^Z^, ^ CALSf DESPAIR.»
me. Let hor know the truth. You hâve been of service to '
her and she will trust you, Explain everything ; tell her a
better home and kinder relatives than she has^ ever known
await her. She will go with you of her own free will — take
my Word for that."
" Well, m try.. TU do my best," Terry said. " Hang it,
Caryll I there's nothing \wouldrit do for you and France. I
suppose they— your mother and Miss Forrester— are awfully
eut up."
"Naturally. Don't speak of it, Terry. I know I can
trust you ; and if anything could help me nom-it would be
that knowledge.' There is no more to be sailli believe.
Look after the mother and France — get the^hild away
from Felicia — make Eric leave Paris for his wife and moth-
er's sake if you can. A muliiplicity of tas^js, dear boy, and
the last the hardest by far; but I knowit will be no fault o(
yours if you fail. 1 will bid you good-by and ggcd speed
hère." JHj^
They clasped hands hard in silence, then,''jH[bt one
Word more, parted, and each went his own way. Terry lit a
cigar, and with his hands deep in his pockejts 'made his way
gloomily back to the Hôtel du Louvre. ^
" And if ever the fiend incarnate came ^n earth to work
niischiefin human shape," Mr. Denhison inwardly growls,
"he has corne in the forni of Felicia the dancer. Devil
take her ! is there no end to the trouble she is destined to
make ? "
Next morning, Lady Dynely, to her surprise and annoy-
ance, finds herself breakfasting alone. Neither Gordon
Caryll nor France Forrester is to be seen when she enters.
She waits half an hour — still they fail to put in an appearance.
Lady Dynely hâtes solitary breakfasts, and rather pettishly
rings the belL
" 11*8 f<rrj' odd," she thinks annoyedly ; " ail day yestérday,
and now again this morning, neither Gordon nor France is
to be seen. And both are such preposterously early risers."
Her owh maid answers the summons, and her ladyshia
ùupatien tly aends her in quest^of ^the jr uants. JTen minutea^
md Simpson returns.
/\
^aa^B^"'
"IF A AT y CALM, A CALM DESPAIR.^
IH
Gone! my lady repeats with a blank stare ^
n,Vi,. . ' "'^i '^^^ î^°''^°"' ^'5 '"a"' received his orders lasl
night to pack up and follow hi.n at once to Englaid Mr
m ^^PnS^"^^^ "'t"\î° ^^'^ '" ^^^^ incredulity. France
ill !-Gordon gonç ! Now what does this mcan ? Her firï
êTh'^'K^ *;r^° '^ î^"-^- C^y" ^"d inquS her Second to
ac ed'on tS^'"'* ""f ""f T^''y^ ""^" «he is toW â»e
acted on the second, ordered in breakfast, and sipped her
An hour Ùter, and Miss Forrester came down The
dainty mornmg toilet *ras as fresh and unexceprionable a!
ever tiie pretty rich brown hair as perfectîy rS fiS
out of the dark bright face ail the color was s^rkkS ouf Sf
ianolTir^V^'^ '" theyàuthful gladness a"l the'Cg
lappyhght She went to Mrs. Caryll's room. The dSf
anl^u "? ^'' ^^^^-^ai'-. dressed for^he day, wai ing in a^
anguish of suspense. As France came in she opened Ver
ZTi L"r "^"^°"^^ ^°^^ '^' gi^l ^^°t in to theaTand lafd
her pafe face on the motherly bosom with a grea^, teilSs
"My éhild! my child!"
She held her to.her. and thqre was Silence. The eves
of Gordon Caryll's mother were fuU of pitying tears butThe
eyes of France were dry and burning. ^ ^ ' ^^^
GhL^T 'T ^'^^y-fro™ you who love him so dearly.
Oh mother, forgive me. I did it for the best." ^
ment^ T.'J-'l? ^'?°ked whisper, lifting her face fora mo-
Tù 'f? *^'" '*■ ^*"* o" the other-s shoulder.
»o „i »T ^^ ''^^*''.' '* "^^^ ^°''s^ than death, but I toli him
to go," she says. again, in that husky undertone.
My dearest," Mrs. Caryll answers, «^-you did rirfit
*ould rather part with him forever, rather see you as T ie
ri
ê '
-^£!
^»;^^
.(Klt^*^
iii ' ' ' il
E: l-'i.
382 "/^ J^NY CALAf^ A CALM DESPAIR."*
you nôw, Ùtm let yow be his wife while that woman lives. /
believe\as you believe. No law of man can alten the law ul
<îocî. ^f she was his wifç seventeen|years ago-j-my child,
how you'ishiver ! are you coléj ?— she^s hjs^wi^still. It i9>
right and^ust that he should hâve put her away — that I be-
lieve ; kn<?wing her to be alive now, it is right and just also
that you sftpuld hâve sentJiim from you. But, oh, my dear,.-
niy dear, it is hard on yôiff-it is very hard on hini."
" Don' t," France says. " Oh, mother, not yet ! I can'i
bear it. This day fortnight was to hâve been our wèdding-
day, and now — " °
She breaks (jlown ail in a moment, and the tears come— a
passionate rain of tears. The mother bolds her almost in
silence, artd so on her bosoni lets her weep her anguish out.
She is crying herself, but quietly. Great self-control has
always been hers— is hers still. To part with her lately-
found son has been like the rending of soûl and body^— môre
bitter than the bitterness of death ; but she has learned, in
weary years of pénitence ând waiting, the great lesson of
life — endurance.vJSo she comforts France now, in .a tender,
motherly fashion, and Fraûce listens, as she .could listen to
no one on earth,*this morning, but Gordon's mother.
" It is not for myself," she says at. last, after her old, im-
petupus fashion, '• it is for him. ' He has suflfered so much,
atoned so bitterly in exile, and loneliness, and poverty, ail
the best years of his life for that mad marriage of his youth,
and now, when I would hâve made him so happy, when hé
was happy, in one instant everything is swept from him —
home, mother, -wife — and he must go out into exile once
more. Oh, mother 1 help me to bear it ! It breaks mv
hearti" '
The wild sobs bj-eak forth again. The mother's heart
echoesevery word. It is rétribution, perhapsjustice — none ihe
less it is very bitter. Théy both think of him, Içaving ail
thiflgs, and going back" to outlawry and wretchedness ; they
think of her in her insolent, glowing beauty and prosperity,
ihe world coing so well with her, glorying in her vengeance,
and it requires ail the Christianity within them to refrain froni,
hating h «t^ ^:n= ^— - ...:;^= ^ _-_J^-„„ ■_.
>.-,.
yx^t-é^
'jWjtt',
''wfp^'-'^^^ ' ,: ^*- y^-^- i-z^^" :- •f^^'-S'-j.wf^^
^ -«*
■■^J' A«y CALM, A CALM DESfAlS.: 3,3
Iis^ens to h'er sad ulans for fSr ? "* ^''^"^ ^"^«' France
" We wiJI return to Fnl ! h T' °^ *^"t ^ day before.
gravely;^.tr CarXnnf^^^ Caryll says,
enough. Therewe'JfirStequLlÏLe^he^ fST' ^^^"
pray, and wait " 4"'CHy logetùer, and hope, and.
^_^ Wodd you rather,e we„, .0 Ro„,e ? • ■ she Sks, after a
else on eaj?h •• "' '™"=^='' ">"« «■/" anywhere
So it is agreed.
keep .h-e truth from her^ "■ "^ ^-"- « tapoiibk to
nolhrag of altered looks or rfAlh, ° .""^f '*^'° «^
room, and vou had bes ^n?f '?" ' """ «"'niJo n.y •
and make an end of i. befoS she^ës^'" '"'>"'"' »"•
^'^•ïêr;?o/d^èE"°?"'~-^^^^^^^^
b=side;Go,^''c'"|;,?:j;^»X*l!°"^^^^^^ .
*'Where ia • *•♦•♦"
V
#-":
■--'iS-,
i!^*ff
;i'
384 ** ^P -*^y JCALM, A CALM DESPAIR."
r
never cared to lift it , ugain. He is whirling along in a
French express train — Calais- ward. To-night he will cross
the channel ; by the first Cunarder that quits Liverppol he
will sail for New York, and so begins the second exile to
which his fatal wife has driven him.
m
.>t.
i .*.. '
%
;€;^''
V r
: m a
cross
)ol he
ùle to
■■rf
CHAPTER XI.
\
■ V
M. LK WUNCfi.
QUIET Street near ihe Rue de U Paix. Thi. U^^
than 6fteen minutes wilhin ihose glooroy precincts jISK
awav Md Asappear only to hâve Wrs Ske ?hê & puX
Si?,, M; P"/»»!»™! fa the leader aid ino«-h* soWt
^Sis^^rs,^«'ïifi«^i;gS^
%'.
**«
Sf
^1» ■«
«<1
Lâ-i-
f
1? •: ^
386
M. LE PRINCE.
by one, their reports are QOted down
corne and go ;
docketed.
With sharp, quick précision he conducts each interview,
with imperious command he gives his orders, with scant cer-
emony he disraisses each man of theni ail. Business of a
stfll more private and délicate nature awaits his attention —
business purely pergonal to M. le Prince— and he rather
cuts short the latest coniers, ând hurries the levée to a close.'
A clock over his head chimes eleven. With an impatient
gesture he dismisses his last client, flings himfeelf back in his
chair, pushes his scant black hair, thickly streaked with gray,
off his fbrehead with a weary air, and then sits for sonie
minutes lost in deep and anxious thought. His thick brows
knit, his1ips,set themselves in a tight, tense Une, then, with
a second impatient motion, he seizes a silver hand-bell and
rings a sharp peal. «,
"1 shall speedily leam whether it is truth oA slander," he
mutters. Mpaujol atid Pauline watch her wdl, and they
belong to me soûl and body. I may trust theiV taie, and if
she has played me falSe, why, then— let her look Ito herself 1 "
Th^,belF is answered almost immediately by the servant
who has stood on guard.
He tows and awaits.
" Hâve they ail gone ? "
"Ail, M. le Prince."
'♦ Has Paujol come ?"
" Paujol has been awaiting your excellency's icommands,
for the last hour." - •.
" Let him enter."
The ipan bows again and disappears. !
M. le Prince lies back in his cha>i*^nd pla)rs a deviPs tattoo
of ill-repressed impatience on rfe^'arm. Then M. Paujol
enters — a very tall man, in a gorgeous uniform, inoother, in
fact, than Madame Felicia's Yiuge chasseur in his robes of
State.
**Ah! PaujoL You hâve been hère for some' time,
Antoine tells me. Hâve you obtained leave of jibsence,
'^en, from madame?"
==*^^Hadaiiae i» «ot »wiMw ^iny |d>sepce, H le ? ri|«5R"
■ - "\ .
:t^^^i&M t^i^/tîfetfVllM
**
;■:?..•'■;:::.■*.<,•.
•! » ■"*■'>
ir^
/
'■♦'» i-i
■^
Ji. LB PRINCE.
387
•Madame departed one hqur ago tô the baj d'opeia at the
"tn tK K 1 i^ «nterjection eut the air sharply as a knife.-
° W^h ?h ^ ''P""^ ^'•/'* ^^"'"*^^- With.whom ?» ^'
A mnml 7°-."^ railor Anglais-JV^. le Vfcomte Dynely."
has leaoed ?rnLl'""^- ^" u°"'"°"' ^'-^^h-' swift, dange Jus.
nasleaped from the eyes of the Neapolitan^his cruellv thiï
hps set themselvès a little tighter «i? cruelly thm
"It is true, thenl ail I hâve heard. He is the latest
pLv? *^'u^^ '^T^^ ''^'" ^* a» timls,at ail places.
It is the talk of Pans, monseigneur, of the clubs and thi-
salons, of the streetsand the theatfe. Does youf exceUencv
wish me M tell you what they say ?" ^ exceuency
"Ail, Paujol. Word for Word î' '
Jl'^^^ï '7' ^'î^''' ^- ^® ^""<=e, that but the English noble
nas a mfe already, madame would throw over your exSlHcy
wm hfr u t'^^i'^'T^ face, and that while your highness
Toven" '^^"^ *"^ dupe,>i.will stUlremain the^fvored
thJîîk ^^"<î-thin, sinewy, strong— that clasps the arm 0/
the chair clutches it until the muscles stand out IHce cTrds
A fieree Neapohtan ogh^isses from his lips-othemis^ he
sits and listens unmovMf v ""icrwise ne
"Go on, Paùjol,"irèVeiterateàW"Your report is most
amusmg. my friend. He is at madame's consClJ, i^he
not?-heis her cavaii^r servant, to ail places ?--h s «fts
are pn^cely m the.r profusion and pplendor ?_aga?n! ,Ç ij
"Itis so, IlIustrissima—Pauline/tells me the jewels he
&he^£:Lrr'^'''- «V^^nightlyattendUw
rïn?' fi, I» *'^' ^^. '^ ^* ^" '^«f i^ceptions, each day they
maSâm?«'^ô' ^^ î" Champs Elykes, he ?pends hoïrs U
S^tî °° ^/^ mommg. T^ none of the many gen-
tlemen whom madame has hoftored Vith her regard hL^c
I^ely, ,t ,s ^id, îs dying of jealousyl AÎlTkris l^^v
>>v
't*"
T"
r
■'■<'•'
•fi."-'-
1 .'
3^8
M. LE PRINCJS.
^
monseigneur, and when your excellency retorns, wcWjden
how the drama will end." '(S.
"Paris wiU soon l'earn," monseigneur answers grimly.
Ah ominous calm has settled upon him, the devil's tattoo
bas quite ceased now, J»s black eyes glitter diabolicall>r.
" Thou hast watchod well, Paujol, lay Iriend ; thou shalt
be well rewafded Madiame dreams not then of my re<
turn?" "^
"She does not, .your excellency. I he/ird her tell M.
> Dynely only tcnlay that youir highness would uotJbetum to
Paris for another week." - •
, A smile curled the thin lips.
« " It is welL And so safe in my ab^ience, not drçaming
that hër chi^seur and femme de chambre are my paid and
devoted «pies, she takes as her lover this prétty-faced Eng-
lish boy, and ail Paris laughs at met It is well, I say. But
I am not the husband yet, and the English say those laugh
best who laugh last And so they assist at the bal d'ôpera
to-nigfat ? Ah, what hour does madame propose returoinir,
Paujol?" « . *^
" An hour after midnight, M. le Prince. She quits early
that she and M. Dynçly may start early for Asnières, where
they spend tc^morrow." ^
Again that threatening flash leaps from the eyes of the
prince.. ^^ ,
"What does madame .wear ? " he demands.
** A domino «MT, with a knot of yellov ribbon on the left
shoulder." ••
"And, Monsieur?"
" ." Atonfieur goes in fuU eveniog dress, with a yellow rose
in his buàon-hole, apd lemon gloves."
Di Venturini tal^s put his watch..
.; "Half-past elevep'^Mnple rime. A million thanks, friend
P«^jol 1 As I say, your fidelity shall be well rewarded. Is
your report made ? If so, you may départ."
^ " One moment, monseigneur. My report is not finished
^the moi^ importait ^art is yet to come. [s your excel-
lency aware tlûû madame has a daughter ? "
— ^%hat i*-™-- -^-----— - ... _-/.„-—
ï
'-.'^ij^
♦ ,'• .
J- .
Ù. LE PRINCE,
389
\ '
i.t 2^L "^^^"^^ * cîaughter^a tall English mara'seHc'
'^^i,feertyear«,at présent stopping with madame?- >
ish'whji •°h''°vP^^''^°" ""^'"^^ Neapolitan fades to â green<-
i^h wj^. He sjts and stare§. v ^
"•î^^°/^AÏ^ϧIi*r'' Whatisit y«û*ayr
The truth M. I^^ince. A daughtW and a husband
The^ughter iswith her now, as I tdl you : the £band
divorced her many years ago.. The daughter S^^fught
of M Dvneîv Mo^"' "'^t.^ ^"^ -^^ ^"S^'^^ gfntleman. a Sd
FnoîûK ^ ^' ^?f '*"':D<^"'"Son»"_PaujolpronoJnces Ihe
ever since. Before you retarn, however, madame Drouosès «
sendmg her away. The husband came once, and once only
Themterviewwasbrief. Hère is his card," ' "'""^^^"fX:^
Caryll, Di \entunni reads. ^or a moment he is at a lossT
..> a moment h.s ojemory refoseftto place him. Thlè S
fâcf to pivJ kT^^^ »he woman's
lace to Pehcia, he^ détermination to hâve -it at anv orice "
.jnd ihe name of the aftist-Qdràon Locksley, heZ^So': ^>
don Cafyll, aftêrwaf4s. In comm6n with the rest of the
from hr ^ Y ^"^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^<''^«^' the prolonged exUe "
. frorn home and country, and now-ànd now Paujol stand!
ÎS^Fe^l" ^t ^'^ ""n^^>^'« face, and tells hiii gravely •
4hat Felicia, the, woman he has honored with the offer of
his hand, is that fatal divorced wife
he^elieïe/V ™f™^°'' petnfied.,and^,n that moment ';
ne beheves. PaujoI, ne^er makes mistakes, never hazards'
rumorswuhout proof. She had lied to wS "hen from tSe
ïhTh^l K ^^ J'^l^^I ^l^"""^ ^'^y*'^'"g tïian the thought
îoved f ^"""^ ^"^^^^ *' ^^ *^^ r?'»*'» he has -
ftietrP^^nT ^*^^^".hif feeth, .«_this mjist bç seen to l .
«dceed. Paujol— yo» are indeed a treasure bëyoad price'"
^■
' ^-.
^ Me (àce, procecda. In^detaU hevnarrates how Dennison
^^-'•
##%;v^^''- ■'?ft.
'• i V
390
M. LE PRINCE.
t y
fci»^
m
,^b-
ï-'-V
brought to madame at raidnight this waif of the streets, how
madame at once received her, how. Pauline faithfully did her
part, overheard every word of the conversation that passed
between n^ther and daughter, land faithfully repeated that
conversation to hijp. He had taken it down in writing fioiu
her lips on the spot, and would read it aloud to monseig-
neur now. -■: **
He unfolded thedociiment as hô^spokè, and slowly read it
over, that momentous conversation,' in which " Donny " had
Clauned Feliciaaslier mother, and Felicia had acknowledged
her as her child— the pledge of secrecy between theni, and
the compact by which madame was to pass her off as a dis-
tant relative. In his cold, steady, monotonous voice, Paujol
read it, then folded, and handed it respectfuUy to his superior
officer and master. Di Venturini, his yellow face still sickly,
greemsh white, waited for more. ^
" The girl— she is still there ?" he asked.
" She is still there, M. le Prince. She is to be sent away
m two days. She and madame hâve had a quarrel."
"Ah ! a quarrel 1 \Vhat about ?" , •
• "About M'sieu Dennison. M. Dennison came vestèfday,
came the day before, and both times asked to see the young
lady he had picked up on the streets. Madame put him off
with a falsehood. Mam'selle was ailing and had declined to
see him. This Paulme repeated to mam'selle, who, it Would
appear, is most anxious to meet again with the gentleman
who rescued her. Mam'selle flewinto a violent passion,
sought out madame and taxed her with duplicity. Madame
is not accustomed to being arraigned for her actions, and
possesses, as monseigneur doubtless is aware, a fine, high tem-
per of her pwn. Before five minutes madame was boxing
mam'selle's ears. Mam'selle became perfectly bcside her-
self with fury, and tried to rush out of the bouse, but was
captured and brought back by Pauline, who was, as usual,
on the w*tch. Madame then infotmed Pauline that mam'-
selle was mad, quite mad, that her madness consisted in
&"^^ ^"^. ^^^ her m other, that she had run away fro m her
rticiids^underthaT;dehision, and Itiàrnow' she was under tfte ^
necessity of locki;ig her up, for a day or two, ufitil she côuld
/
1
, * ^1* * '
St8iWèaii|ii{'-<it-T'iPtn'f^irii»i
'^^''-^i'^^^'i^^^^ / 44
i>^'
-C^ Î*RINCE.
f
391
«end fer safeïy back/to/those friends. The oassion «#
mam'selle was frightfu/ t/ behold, so Pauline savrintchi
- was brought back anà Wely locked up"andsrcontftues
locked up at this pre^nt momeiu. She- refuL to sS or
eat and hes hke a stjne. Madame bas made^niSSems
to bave her removed the day after to-morrow_X?e Pai
Une bas not afe yefr discovered."iB^
.^•1^^T K?^""^'- .^' VènturinfK face stiH green bis h-os
stil^set h.s eyes still gleaming, iooks up. ^ ' ' ''^"'
" rarvrl!zirH^P°T'"'^î^'''' ^^*^^^" ™^^^™« and M. Gordon
<>aiyllw^id Pauhne also overhear that ? " ^^uruon
" Paohne overheard every word, monseigneur and a<.
before, repeated it to me. As befor^, I took ft down^n wrft
M Kinc: ?>'' ^"' '"^^^ " ""'''' Shall I readTt '"Z^
P^œc/^eS^Seà^S^ iJ^^^
r,^TthT'^\^- "'^"' . ^ husband-a daughe la lover
fJ^-^ thejaughingstock of Paris ! His face for an iSnt
S!>Td^'XTc;/a7oï^c^^^^^^ '-^ done%ord'j^^
doT^no^^rjl"'^ *"'L*5^^1- DiVenturinisitsalone. He
S Hk tf '^''^^^^ •'^°"^* ^"^^ truthof au this he has
heard. H s twro emis8an es_aLeJddity jtself-^their loy.lty
he ha8 asked to marry him. Tcnight L but made ^nïS
iM
'Âj
"^s
:f.'V -»i
„^iX M >. t/! '
îpl
'^ê^i
*^
•V4'
"^!«C^t"S> ^ !^'Wir}i^f;
*' '
^^^>|
1 ,
392
il/: Z^ PR/NCB,
His face looks leadenln .h° li^ni^Kr'i;''ïï * * '"'?""'>•
through hb settee'h « an? aîl pl^i^^? ' " ""^ '=?=«»
night Ht the bal d'oôet^ .„ ^„ '«"gbing at me. To-
Prince safelyabse«fo?*aS^r™»' " Asn ères, and M. le
the plot of her o»n plays." ^"^ ''"'* ' « « "ke
reJ^;forts^ri™r«ThT£TIl'"'?"''r "" "»*«
=i^
,-- >
«SUfT,. v-
' '^"•¥'^'
CHANTER
' *J
AT THK BAL V'ckxttM.
^Ù^\ ^^J I wish shfe were dead ! Oh. whv
given her 1 fe would ac«.rfîk-», i ? . *? *"° ^^
would ring- tCghT^^^^'q^^^
KuS^ ^ gio^^ pfsn e hère, spent. whke, exSed "
her dusk cyes^gleaming we^ in her pallid diUdTfe^
i-v.Vj
tï.<'»fe- I.-
a ï'""
394
AT" TITE BAL IXOP^A.
' . \
her elfish black hair ail tossed and dishevelled over hei
shoulders.
uZ}^ >*' were hère," she thihks with a great sobbing ^
"ire would save me. Oh, if I had only stayed with him
tMt night, and never corne hère I He was good, he was
kJhd j 1 would hâve been happy with him."
The face of *Terry Dennison rises before her~the honest
eyes, the frank sraile, the man's strength and woman's gentle-
ness, and her heart cries out for him now in her trouble, as
though he had been the friend of her whole life.
'1 He asked for me," she thinks, with another long shud-
denng sob. " Twice he asked for me, and each time she
told him a hë— told hmi I was sick and did pot want to see
him. And she struck me in the face. Oh, I hâte her ! I
haie her ! "
Herfolded arms rest on thebed— her face drops on them
and so poor ill-used, ill-tempered,*passionate Donny lies
shll. She falls into a sort of lethargy that is not sleep, but
the natural resuU of so much fie#ce excitement, and in that
half-doze dreams— dreams Terry Uennison is coming to her
rescue once more, the kindly smile she remembers so well,
and trusts so entirely, on his face— that his foot is ascend-
mç the stairs, that he is turning the key in the door, that he
is m the room. Then at light flashes through the darkness,
and she look^up with dazed dreaming eyes to see a man in
the room, shading a light and looking at her— a man who is
notx&ny Dennison.
" Hush-h-h I" ^his man says, putting his finger on his lip
and noiselessly closing the door. " Not a word, not a sound
mademoiselle 1 I am a friend. I hâve come to save you
But ail dépends on your being perfectly still."
She does oot rise. She lies and looks at him, her wide-
open, black eyes full of silent wonder ami suspicion
" Who are yôu ? " she asks.
He is a little yellow man, in a richly.furred coat, and
mth an air of distinction, but Mam'scUe Dorniy does not
Iike his look.
" J "" a fi^eo< >» j8 I told you. I haye been a ent^tn tav e
%v
Fî^'.»
■Je *r
' ■ iflaMMirifi Vi' JMMMBMy'- j- i|i|iiiMiiM|ill|f''i t j
"^-^ 'fi-ss^iScd:^^
mM^^w^^
M
^r TJ/£ BAL D'OPERA.
395
ïon'hpî^M ^^^" '^?î by .'"'"-the gentleman who brought
you hère— Monsieur Dennison." ^
She springs to her feet now, the soiind of that naine elec-
tnfymg her.
" Ta^e me to him," she cries, breathlessly. " Oh, sir 1 take
from this dreadful house, from that dreadful woman lo him ! "
«n- il T f >'^ ^^ain ; " softly, mademoiselle-some
one may hear I hâve corne to take you to him presently,
f. V^st-^niadame is your mother, is she not? "
-wh^^ ?u y°V^sk;that?" she impati^ntly demands;
what has that todow.th it ? Oh 1 kt megoawayat once."
It has everythmg todowithit, mam'selle. Monsieur
Denmson told me to ascertain. He would hâve come him-
seit, but you know hiadame distrusts him and will not let him
see you, lest you should tell him the truth."
" \ •'"ow ' I knowi " she impatiently interrupts. « She
I.ed to him ! She told him I was ill, when he asked for me!
and I was dying to see him. She slapped my face, and
locked me up hère and I hâte her ! " HeVeyes flashed fire.
her hands clenched. " What is it you want to know ? " shê
cned excitedly. "l'il tell you inything - everytWso
that you take me from hère, to hi^." ^ ^ ^
"Tell me your story—who you are. She is your mother
It.XLl^ùP'- '" '- ^- ^'•° '- y-'
nison take me to riim. She is my mother-oh, yes ! and I
was born m Quekc, more than sixteen years ago. My
father would not ]|ve with her, I don't knoi why, and there
was a divorce So Joan told mei Jean was th^re when ï
was born, and my mother left me with her and went awav.
I wUh ?n^ T J?^ ' u"?^ '^^ •* *^«^^' ^"^^ 5° I cai"^^ hère.
S^rc^^ ^^^^]'*''*~T''^'" "*"'« '3 Rosamond. She calted
was Gordon Caryll. I don't know whetherhe is living or
*.
told you, I want you to take me away."
,tife;p'lr«^L,pj5^»4^ip
"^s"
390
-rfr 7!aff ^,<z Jy OPERA,
intXï fecthS ï?tUt^^ '^^^ n^lr '>-^- One look
trust my wor4 when I say ^ ^' ^"^ *^*' speedily^you may
mpre. ' ™° ^« ** a«>«^ m her prison once
on^^eef o?S^^^^^^^^^ ^he va.t building was
The orchestra, playinu the sweS «,? °^^,°''^'T^°'^e'-ing-
' of the music arofe the^riU i.f^H^'^^l '^^. "^"^ «trains
ceaseJess eav voici-*^ Tc^T • '^^S'^^e'". t^ie sliriJl clatter of
as the ^him took C Sed^ tTA "*^'^^offor on.
noisily to and fro. A ê^eo„, .?• . 'H^^^^'^s^'x and
Parisgaslitlife-aglimpfrifSfT^ ^r^ °"« PJ'^e of
intoxicating, wicked ^ ^^ '^'■^^'^" Nights-briliiant,
sIoX"'h2;n;Su"^^^^^^ -'°- and n^oving
which, despite thé warnuh' he s^l^tf ^^^ogg.d great-coa?
'ngall butthe glitterT wo re ëss btîr'' ^'' '"^'^ ^°"<^^^'-
way to the centre of the aMenfhl?! ^ f^^*'- "^ "»ade his
against a statue of the^oTo? wlTheï^^^^^^^^^^ "'«"«^"^'^^
«agoria as it ffitted before Wm s. Jh "l^'^^J P'^^"^*'-
slightly and drew in his bZtthlhh « ^ï*'**^" ^ . ''* «tarted
What he looked for hcLw * "^"^^ ^'^'^""^ »ound.
<» her left shoulS Thé^Sll^ÏL^"^^*^ ^^"^ ^bbon
closely, vas m seX«„» f . ^^"^'' '^^o clasped Lr so
--ifbXhoTpitk^^^^^^
«nl4 Jaughter of the lady reachS h J™. . u'^ t?°^*7 ^he
* bacchante, laughter iJX^l'^? ^^..^^^^fr^
It, V
>
'•-f-
y.iM'i
. !?■■
^ AT tus BAL COOPERA. .
where but few people wS^ f „H " k P'*" P'aots,cast sh^e,
We uiust dance the Y^xo\^h^V\ll^J { ^ " ^.""^^ ^y «tep.
-hbme. Eric, go for S^Tte if «,1?'^^ 'T^^^^ ^"^ ^f'^"
pire." ** • ^ "^^ '^ ^^O"» would not see me ex-
pering something ha^ cau^d mT"'*?" Tl ^° obey. whiS
«ver slight, eut &%^ t££ 'Î*^" ""ghbors, how-
««raigh. fron, ttelSouS Asï h^ " r""*""*"' '"'«'
ga.her«l. There ist^îi hY-ÏJJSlï^f""'.""*'
W
!&»
=*
■£tLlÊtÊàiÛK^^' ■* »n.k_j. ■•.'■•»; v^ ^ '.
398
Wr r/TE ^^Z E^ OPERA.
once more!''''''^ ''^'^'^ "^^"^ ^' ^^ ^P^^^^"« ^'^ »»'« ^ack
««"^°™K ^"'" ^"^'^ ^3TîeIy said, with perfect coolness •
«as my best coat is spoil«d, I don't mind spoilingTt a Sîe
more. Get up and m show you how to walk Arouïh a
ba -room mthout running against your neighbors " ^
" Mon Dieu, Enc !" cried the voice of relicia.,who had
"I hâve not the honor of monsieur-s acquaintance at
présent; but ail the same it affords me pSe to îeach
rrv^o^f r"'^^ !?' "'^^^"'e had clutched his arm with a
flZne DrVenT'^'T?,""'^"' Witt, eyes litemlly flash^g
off hS ^ yent"nni had sprung to his feét like a tiger. tom
off his mask, and confronted them. *
'•Yes, madame— itisl. You recognize me I see TAX
Tu uT ^*^° ^ ^•"- You know mef if he dues not We
shall be better acquainted before long I hâve the hono,!^
bave I not of speaking to Lord Dynely?" '
He. hissed out his wofds in English that the crowd miaht
"A fnend of mine shall wait uppn you, mv lord to-
« YorhaTT^'", "?• ""^"^r^^ ^^^ i" - -S wSp r
You hâve heard of me— I am the Prince Di Venturini
Foryou. madame," with a low bow, « I shall see you latër"
the^h^nf «'7°"î^ Tj" ^' *"">^<ï' ^^^- hirwirthrorgh
he hl^ coSie h,"^"'";^ *^" ^^^ '"^^'î"^^ F°r this purpofe
ne had corne— his end was acçomplished. h F «
.ii^trc^ea^nu^Vf^^^^^^
D>melylooked.at each l^r Wa'nkfy L ^«^^«0?" Th"'
madame broke into one of her shrill Lghs. '"
one of our vaudevilles at the Varieties, where madame
amuses herself in monsieur's absence, and^^Sr^Trio^s
and jealous, unexpectedly appears. What a seine CïiU
^' .
1*** -n. A-WûfV
' !
ff ' •
-f 'sl^
}l%
■ll ■'
AT T/tS S AL ir OPERA. .
mon cher— shall we dance it, or—» "^
««3u'^V^"''^ it, of course," Lord Dynely answers
"a waltzwith you ,s too rare a treat to h^A\l\l ^y^^nu»
onerL rlnA î . /"f " " ^"^^ ^"<^ ^e wraps her in her
opéra clpak^ and leads her to her carnaa,. qk^ i c
And Asnières, mon enfant," she says, "do we an tn.
morrow down the Seine as agreéd, or do H-'' ^° '^
for luth^i 1 ^n/'^e'-ed. .his blue eyes flashing; "„ot
^e^it^:^^,- Chnstendo^wonlcflthrc;::
^e stoops and kisses the jewelled, ungloved hand she ex
k'not s? well'''T"h''^'r^'^» ^^^^^ ^-'^' d:lt1augrh"
knows so well Then the carriage roUs away Circe ha,
gone. and her victim s^^ds alonel the cool Februa^^ ni^hï
-:m
'
\
\
■'*v
"^
-
y
■-^
■
-
!
1.
j
1
']
.'
'■".
«
hA^Hi^J^ ^ ifu.-,#^îtS > ^
»,■■■.'■■
CHAPtER XIH.
le Prince is a min ? • ^ ^^'^ '^^^ ^««^ insulted and M
man ; lightina his d^:.r rSfi i^® ^îî*^^^ ^"^ ^^ J^'lled his
He IsaWZr^^^J^^^'-r"^ ^'^^^
smce the becinniha of hîô «• . 5 • . ^°^ ^an once.
Lord Dynïf SotiX? A '''î T''^ "^A ^' ^'^^^^ ^S
-rning after, ri:'kTtrrhe ^^^^ ^^^
ph7S;T'oS^ r r ^^^^^ ° '^e"? «e^ ^^"^"-•
rno^'S^'i^oLd'^^^^J^^ the fartheït possible re-
and stiU a nfan novice £ Sk^. t^l/^ably^pleasant,
good grâce, if his Snt?enœ lir?otaV' ToT^ 1^ "'?
one must fear what cornes afte^^dea* Of Th J^ÏÏ'^'^''''
men of h s stamo whollv ai^Z : u ^ **^' ^^^^ ^^^t
ure. Lord Dynely neve/ fl^, K? '°.?^ P"""^"'* °^ P^^as-
all its dissipaSs evin «f^^^^' ^^îf *"' «^ken witi,
Paris, life was a goS la o?»^î!î ^"^ **"8'^*^^*' ^ere in, ^
ï /s
V'\.
.I»
'7"»UÏ3i . ,, ,.-,_ , , . ,,,-, -^.,
•(f
>'
-^^T-^iP 775» ^^ZZ.
• ., ♦ ; 40I
his cigar 'now. atd st?oll"d slowTvtn'"^''" .'^ ''^^' ''^ "'-
- *^hae, shining stars. Yes }ife w,^ ^ k "'^"^'"^ ""^'-''- 'he
a1l things. A pretty face w h t m ^""'^ > ^ ^^il ti^ed ol
raftleof thed^fclï Jt°hT"' °^^^' °f torses, the
Sards. thé whirl of Ae ball-rooï^T'Pr'"' ^^ «»'"«« of the
3^,all things in this wearf^^'eTowSr & "' f^
skmned, tôpaz-eyed actresses oanTfLr r * ^"'^^ **^'^'»-
fewr thousand pounds srïônoon »k • * ^^"^ ^^^^^' ^«r a
"becks and nods. and'^w/eatÏÏ sS '".P'^'T^' ^""'^^^^
many thousand years ago is wearill t^h? 5 k°"u°° '""« «>
kunes^^qrée of tcnJav AnH on ^ f^ ^^'^ ^^ ^'^ sons-the
above thëm, «usic arôSrïZm » ",V*'r"'°*'' «""«^ine
lyupon him. S mornW i?.f°"' ^es srnUing linguid-
there would be hat S w^ooSrid" ^i^.©-^'. cold dLn,
io haste out of X^^i^rZ^A' ?^f*Po»«an prÎTice flyîng
TWrd,andamanlir8ffon?hTKr^°^ Napoléon thi .
dead face upturaedWe skv A. in r'^-"? '°^ ^*^*' ^is
him he saw it alL* And then th^rV ,!?''lî* P'^'"^« ^^^^ ,
Italy a few week.later and V- ' * ''^'''*''"8 ^"^
lifeon the NeapoS^n ^rfnce For fh'^^ ''^"'^ ^""^ ^^
b"P, in the creed of the m«« , .*^°^îe ^ead man-well, for
-annihiJatio^T """* ^"""^^ *^« ^^^t of aU things
tbiScing'^if S^r IT t:s^kro''Sf ^"^ "^'^ ^--«^^
wômankind. and hemustfindaf^eSd. %r""' ^^ '^^
-yes, Boville would do^he wo„ S c k- '"f^''^^ ^^"'e
morrow, and refer EH v^î! ^^^^ ^^ •""" ^^^^^t thingto.
Prdinar^ cJc«4unSs. w" n' ' -"^"^ ^ ufd^
Wbe^.e|^^4^^^^
■ v>
"5,
'.■■H'fK'r
403
/ ^
AJTTEJf THE BALL.
and for the samç cause— Dynely's neglect of his wife II
had occurred thi:ee da» afte? the sudden and son^eXt sur
pnsmg departure of Gorçlon Caryll. Eric stili held foj^
body and soûl by Felicia. Çrystal still drooping, v^th C
pathetic heart-broken face. By command of Lady Dynetl^
«èr^, Ferry had taken Crystal for a drjve in the Boîs and
iadlfn? *°^'"'»: '"..^he yellow afternoon sunshSv'thëy
aancer. Lying back m her silks and sables and seal skins
c:v2rTorrn^";''"L'^ï"^^^
cavalier, I.ord Dynely, beside her, so Lord Dynelv's wife
hac corne uponthem fuH, For a s;cond. four pS of eyes
Tn! "t r" ^^'^".Kh' *=*rriage of the danseuse flashed past,
bœel "''1; laugh came back to them on S
rnl?^°" Dieu! E^a pleas^nt rencontre for you ? " she
V ma'i- w'itS^'Mr ^ '''""^'^\ ^^J*^^ ^""^^^°"- " ^Vhat is the
""^eVot^f^e"?,^^^^^^^^^ "^ «^^'^ ™^ ^ '^^ ^^->"^^'^
brS tnd tc/t:;^^!^ ^ ' "^^^ ^ ''^^^^ «
befo^\3f7 ' ^^^^-l"^ ^°™.^'" ^'^^ h*^ s°bbed, as once
before, and Terry, m silence with flasbing eyes and lowerine
- brows and compressed lips, iiad obeyed. ^ 'o^enng
the Dvnd Jr r *"■ f!"* *^r J"^' * " ^^^"^ " '» ^»»e salon of
me Uynelys. Crystal, sick heart and
herroom; Eric, waiting for dinner, was
»"^ Paper, when Deiii&on strode in and.
end?^^^'" ^^ P*"»onately demande
^ Lord Dynely lo(ied up, the conscious blood reddening
his transparent, girl-like face. 'cuuemng
"Ho«r rs what to end? May I request you to take à
^^t less aggreâ^ive tone in addressing me, Mr. Denni-
ir negï^t— your shameful neglect' of your wife. It is
/" "^fF^^^^-^y^^ are kiUing her by inches, before
ft»5hJided.&eiB^the Mondefa ce of VisCoant By n^^
. ./.... -V, ;ia**^^ ■> ,', ^i^.^r.'i^îkf^tar-
Vj?.
.jt \ *
l^. ■
■>J
AFTER TpE SALI. ^
403
Me laid-
JowJ h-"^ ^hitenéss c,f deadly anger took its place.
this?^'^^ '"'^""■*''^ '"y ^''^ *^*^ '^"t y°".h«re to tell n,e
. "Your wife knows nothing of mv coniina \\^^t «^
fs t^Sn^^'j^'l^"'?"^ breakingyour wife's heart A 1 pi^
I»„;I r '*^'^ '^^ dancer! You spend yourtlme vou
lavish yourgifts on that painted Tezebel whilp fwl?^-
day by day before y6ur eyes. And S se^S^e^ks sin«
you HTarried her !" ^ »ev«rweeJcs sinee
n ight say ^what .you would. That promise I meanTke^en
It is the farthest possible from mv wish--the tLlhf'^;
' '"'^T^^.tY^' B",Eric,IsJy:^„ttmttd/'
Miî,r I 5 °^^ charming woman in Paris, I présume
May I ask Awi; you propose to end it ? " Présume.
a« . f • ^^^''^'',^''^' Eric, don't sneer ! I speak to vou
as a fnend. a?^ brother. You cannot be quite heartfess
--you cannot ^Mve quite outlived your lovt for cS
Don t you see you are Jcilling her-^oor, little souI TonV
you see she wotships the^'ground vou walk on tïi i .
thmg your hand hâsWhedlshe w'ould dL for you Ê^ï
and you-yoi. neglect h^ more shamefully thaï ever bride'
was neglecfed before ; yéi insuit her by yo/r devotS^^ to 3it
to dt '^' "'^T''' ^^ ^\ *^^ ««^" ^^'^^fter you hLd piled
y^=»<
_, .-<i.
3»
\
.4fcTlK
j^r^rTirapTërToveFT^"En^
■neer stUl on lips and eyes. « Let us understacd ^ oS^
f"^^iM
,n *■'
7W*
404
^Fr£^ THE BAU..
k *
r
A-'^
<*
thèse rooms at once, Td en er th^^ ^'""^ ^"^"g'^ ^° q"'t
. with reason objeçt to you her Hr.H t ^^ «asily, I ,„ighî
this once. I sball order rav wife to ri?!; *at pass-
longer, and I think she wHl ï m ^^^'""^ y®"»" ^'^its no
After to-day, Mr DennLn ^^\ ''^"^"'^ »« *sobey.
quaintanceSatanenr ' ^''" '''" «nderstand our ac-
tu>n, if-that were poSbre, to Fdi^' Thev^^^ ^^"°-
than once since, and Dvnelv hfJ^ 7*u- ,^ ^^ "'^t "Ofe
betweenthosetwTwKd^i^" '"''"f^^^- «^ «"atteS
^ night Verily. a woman i, »?[2^ "^ *' '''■°^''^'^' ^tood to.
masculine fw|Ad's^pTo^^^:^^^^^^^^
through hiraSs he lookSl/ï! ^^^ u'^*"^^ ^^«"«^se shot
brief week™ ^^^^ ** ''^"' ^° ^^^^^nged in those few
wJt^'i:^L\T^ ™,Sfn?i?^" '■^ r»'«> '""C'y"»'
•ble padietic /4ÎS sSe siï^^ "'* '''? "^ »""«"-
a^'
'^':k4':S',^i£Mi -
'4ct^
Tr
vv.
1^ 1
-T
^/•T»* TWK JfALL.
and must get offit once " engagement this morning,
rjentSrtfhtrSœ^^ changed. a note
"an^^i,rLtr,ot^:^ef;r'^^^
as (his f !• >* . ^ " ^"^^ ™ * «an m such a hurry
Ca^i^^aîS"^^^^^^-! De Concressault,
such a KuiTv t<i be X *îi V -^"^ ^ ^^""^ s«"t for you in
çigan' " TfhLIgîîîf .S'^^^^^ -^ but not the
is at the bottom ofit?^ ^ ^ **"•'• O^ course Felicia
i'^}^^iTj\ZJS^^^^^^ the botto. of al.
thing is strictly xi«> nva^S wnï/^ i * i ' "^ ^'""''^ ^^«ry.
" Oertainly not " BtoTîni *^° ÎP ^*' '' «et wind."
aboutit, D/nel,' I^oûïh.'iïT^S «^^^'y- "Tell „,
for another S" ^^ ^- *^ ^""*^^ ^« «afely away
laugh° "He"^um2^^t^" ^^."^'^ ^'^' -"h a slight
.wo^^jan. thH^jdSrtrEu^ur'"^^^^ ^^^ «-2;
" And you?- SJv'ille^^ ^'^^^ ManiUaiu" ^
■î'r' ' ^ ■^ •
I r^v
406
APTER THE SALL.
%
"But— ^ood Heaven ! Dynely, yôu hâve no chance a(
ttll then, if the prince means mischief 1 And he mostly does,
I can tell you, when he fights. Don't you know he has
killed thi-ee mén already ?"
Lord Dynely shrugged his shoulders.
"I can'tshow the white feaiheron that accoùnt. l've goi
into this scrape, and I must take the conséquences, l've
referred De Concressault to you. You'll act for me, old
fellow, I know ? "
"I shall be helping to murder you," Boville answered,
with a groan. **Is there no way, Dynely, by which "
" There is no way by which this matter can be settled,
except by a meeting," Dyuely answered, irapatienily. Di Ven-
turini came to the bail for no other purpose than to insuit
me. He did it, and I knocked hini down twicè. You
must perceive there can be but one ending to such a thine
as that.» ^
" Devil take Felicia ! " growled his friend. " I wish you
had never seen the sorceress. She is fatal to ail men. She
reniiiids one of those fabled Whafs-their-names, liiermaids
— sirans— Lurline — who lure poor devils with their smiles
and 4ongs, and then eat them up^^d cru nch their bones.
It's i deuce of an afifair, and I never served a friend so
unwiUingly before in niy life. By the way, was the pnnce
masked? How did you know him ? "
" He tore oflF his mask in a fine frenzy after the second
knock down. / never saw him before in my life. And
now I corne to think of it, he didn't see me at ail. I kept
my mask on through the whole fracas— never thought of it
once. By Jove ! " Eric cried, laughing, " the idea of going
out with a man he never saw ! "
"Ifs no laughing matter, let me tell you," Boville growled
again; "it's an infernal business, and I wish you had
chosen any one else to act for you in the matter. How-
ever, if you insist that it is inévitable-' "
" It is most decidedly and emphatically inévitable ; so be
oflf and arrange for to-morrow moming, there's a good fellow.
l've an engagement that I would not b^ late for for worlds."
■ " A n d pistol g grsw o rdt l'* . „,
',*tesa&^ » .i^^«.£,- 1-'^^''
|CihB^BïL,H
v-^t#
^1^.
f
^/•T-^iP rff£ BALL
407
the resuit would be the sTme wkh ' h ''^^^ "° ^°"^^
clude things with^pSch " ' ' ^°" '^^' °"'^ P'^*"^« ^°"-
Lord DynelV to kw>n h.e 7V • ^^^ ^oncressault, and
l>
l'"4
H"
l«^:\--^;
CHAPTER XIV.
f -s "
r ■ "
CHE« MADAME.
hnvLf ^K^S^^? ^^'^' ^^^"^^ Felipa and Lord
Îk! rfei^r''^-''^"^'^' *"^ t^-e knowledgegave
the forbidden fruit fresh zest, even to their irderl
pa ates. You musi feel an interest in a handsome and de
voted young cavalier, lying in the sunshine at yo^" fee? who"
ï ' '!;i-°r°""°''' foryoursake. maybe lying with abullet
through his heart. As well as Lord Dynely himself fS
. knew what would inevitably take place in^he Tght of t^
SSo'ir^L^"^' *°"^^ ?'^ youthfuland i^'assle^d
lordsWp waà begmning senously to bore-her, she had never
before been one-half so sweët, /o witching, as to day ,
Half an hour after their departure, there ratS „n i^
madanje's door a fiacre, from which Sighted M f Prince
Ini- ^ ''''"'5 ^ ^'^"•^"S '"^ coming, with mo e or les" of
impatience and anxiety, he did not dôubt. He absobteh.
s^ood du,nb, when the tall chasseur, indors;d by MamS
Pauhne, announced madame's departure, and wiîh whom
« Gone for the day to Asnières, and with Lord dISi »
he repeated, staring at them blankly. The extent oHhe de
fiant audaèityabsolutely took his bVeath aw^y ^^'
u „«?!"' ^^'' ^- ïe/"nce," Pauline answered, with a shnijr
" AÎd TZfT^ ^r^ "^^'^ *° ^^"^ ^°^ the théâtre;"^'
"^n^'^hf^ *?• u^"' ^?V"»e ? in good spirits, or—"
^fh^ u ^'^ ^'l?^"' ''P»"^^ M- le Prince. She dressed
lor ThLTi' '^f n"?^ *^^' ^^ «>• «vidently! had S
, lor. I heard her tell him, as they went awa/ knghîng
r t ^V^ ""^ * 4r 4C^^^^j'«# tV^-Ùt^
1 and Lord
xcursion —
rledge gave
:heir jaded
ne and de-
rfeet, who,
ith a bullet
elf, Felicia
ight of to-
ipassioned
had never
«y-
led up to
le Prince.
or less of
absolutely
Mam'selle
whom.
Dynely ! "
of the de-
li a shrug,
leatre."
or me ? "
or "
e dressed
', had mi-
CffEZ MADAME.
p h.s rival, he lost it in thltmn^^T^ P/ ^^^ hadremained
t.ng herself right had rema ned Th.k' '^°"" ^^^^^ of "et
hm|. she lost it in that hour '^' "^^'"^'^ «^^o slighted
what^o'^l?;.?^--»eP" he asked, «the little captive-
^^^{^^S^^^Z ofï ^^ %'^ -ov ed to-
Madame holds a lit le J^iL? ^^^^ris, for the présent
at madame's little réception SI ^°"*"" °^ ^eing présent
she may hold anotherT" '^''^^ ^^^^^^ ^^o know^ X„
-daU^a'^shi-S^^^^^ te^^^,r-^^^-*ave.arned
Sçine to the music of the banA f^ ^««^n the sunny ^
madame heard nothing exceo^tï^ /?î. S^ ^^''«"^ï ^S
Enghsh knight. ^ "^'^P* ^'^^ i^lI-bloHrn flatterie^ çf hS -
%JtVr Viî^7h^ab':^j;f ,?- «- -s Of the most de- ^ ^^
self mto the pleasure nf ?h * *^^''^' madame threw h^r
-ed, each ho^ur^t'e ul^o^ "S l^^J^^^ -hneth:
for to.morro«r you die," was thV w ' ''""''' ^"^ be merrr
was nothing ne.v. and nmhing'ru/rt'^ ^he?^
summer warmth, and the band ni- ï ^^^ '"" ^hone with ''
D. Ventunni wonld shoot h"m o" nm hf'"T'' '^^ ^""<=e
- 18 °' "'" ''"» through-it «ras
■u
*ir'
M- -
'^^
mm_
CJTA'Z MADAME.
1
410
erlv ^''" n?" tT""^: P'^' ^°" ^™î ' " she murmura tend-
^th^^ée?ï'~ ^^ ^"^ ""^°^'"g ^'^^ ^ <^i'd. ?ince /am
Hç awoke with a start.
Erîl V' ml!l5"° * *,!"!?' 'o-morrow-dost .hou not think so
pade„"lhr""°a mrfj ™»\»»H "i'h an i„,.
" ■ onT;L''erJ::LrbHdtT„'d .'^^ '^^^ ^ *^-'^ *» »>-
■¥
t-
I
4<
^l^^^j^'Wj^^^^^-
■^' l''H^^['^^"^ r,pi^0^.
CHEZ MADAME.
,-(fr
*
w
411
for to-„ight tLt' wmVevenî'm -ï' • ^ '^^^^ ^"^ engagement
She shrugged her sïoXs ^ ^t?"^ that pleas^/' «^^
. '^^!l^>l!,w"iêht at mada.^rdo;r ''^ '^°°^ ^°#^»^^ i^ the
half smile pn her lips-so!^thouf « "!°î:. ^here was a
to amuse me for four week fe morT'"-'^' ^^^ '^«'P^^
Does she know. ? '^ Rrir wo? ™ "^^ ^^" «"e ask ? "
does. Also, of course." râSbir!"^-' '^"^ «^ ^«"^se she
•afely out of the way." °'^^'^' ^°^'n« wearisome, and
au rev^frl""^'^' ''^^"' ™- -•/' madame said, softly »and
4lT"^'' ^'"''^' '^ "^""^'' """^" - -et
tw^S^dpk'dTeS^r'^^^^^^^^^^^
Four hour^ lâter, and the Zttlr '^ ""'^ °" ^^«l»-
men m Pans, the handsomest Ldl" ? /'"■°"&- ^he best
And there, when the recS^ ""^'.* ^°™e" «let there
versatipnatitsgayest, SrSard'/' l'' ^'S'^«^' ^^e co^:
came M. le Prince Di VeSi ^ ^^-^g'^^^'- ^^ ^heiV liveliest,
^>^ot unexpected. "Whr. i^. u
madame had demanded whï» , ^f^** ^^^re, Pauhne?"
at the dressing-roornoî' ^V^^'" '^^ ^*°ds of her maid. -
«« Th [ ^^ r"" *°'d him-J"
Maqinn*» l^..~u-.i -:
' wieJaugh e d,
«id S?-'™"^'" y- 8~-. Pefe. Aod M. .e fti„ce-wl«
6^ v'^iuk^; , ***.
%t- .v^
•K-
• «
412
C/^i?Z MADAME.
é4
f , ^
t'
*.
■f
&^
" Nothipg, madame ; but that he would see you later at
the réception." ^ *'
So madame knew hè was coming, and was prepared for afl
chances. War or peace— she was equal to eithèr fate, onlv
a tnfle cunous. Others were curious, too ; that little <îon.
tretemps at the bal d'opéra, quiet as it had been kept, was
known and people shrewdly suspected that Di VenturinL
noted duehst and fire-eater, would not let the matter drép
there. How would he meet madame ?
He made his way slowly through the rooms, and met her
hHhf'r k"^ P°J'shed courtesy, told her of his journey, of
his health hoped she had araused herself well in his absence
hngered half an hour among the guests, and then, with an
elaborate apology for his early departure, went away
By one o'clock the rooms were empty, the lights out.
Madame valued her good looks and lustrouseyes too highlv
to keep very late hours. Paujol had quitted his post, Pauline
had disrobed her mistress of silks and laces, and substîtuted
a^dressmg-gown In her room Felicia sat, smoking two or
three nerve-soothmg cigarettes before going to bed. In the
boudoir without Pauline sat, waiting, half-asle^p,' with her
mistress night draught of spiced wine and eggs 6n the table
before her. Madame often sat dozing and dreaiiing over
So to-night she lay luxunously back in her chair, her eyes
closed, the rbse-scented smoke curling upward, when a man *
made his way noiselessly into the boudoir from the street.
He glanced at the sleeping Pauline, at the waiting night
draught, and passedon mto the dressing-room, into the bed-
rooni, and so came, still noiselessly, upon madame.
He stood for a moment looking dowti upon her. She had
not heard him, bpt some baleful, mesmeric influence warned
«nH 1^ T/JT'- ^H"** "P suddenly, opened her eyes,
and looked full mto the yellow face of Prince Di Ventu-
nni. N f , ■
For a second there was silence. She was a plucky little
r™f ' cw ?"S"* ."^'"''^ ^''°"* ^^'^ *"d ""ered no Word oi
j gun d . Shelooked at fam «tfiMght, sflent, th en t " Monsien r -
ift'Mlk--^ .
fâl^^Si^ft'MlÉ*-^ <3ip» '
ron later at
arpd for aQ
r fate, only
little ion-
I kept, was
Venturini,
latter dr«p
id met lier
iourney, of
is absence,
D, with an
•ay.
lights out,
too highly
st, Pauline
iubstltuted
ng, two or
I. In the
,' with her
i the table
iiing over
irl waited.
', her eyes
>en a tnan '
he Street,
ting night
) the bed-
She had
:e wamed
her eyes,
)i Ventu-
icky littlç
> Word et
Monsieur
C/IEZ MADAM£.
*stolL7y™°"'"' ™''"™- I "•"' I "ave „o. .00 peady
^A^mocking s.i,e „as on hi. Hp». Sh. l„„ted at hi™ dis-
c^nr^^'srk^vtfb'urr % f ^- ^ "--„, ,
What «ras Pauiol abnnî ,h., ^ • ''"' '"'' ""'« are «ood
, ilP^-.Jolwafalreepltf™ ""'"='' —""ncedf ..°"'
J "And, Pauline?" ^
. m^a"^,:""' '' """P >'«> '" 3"""- boudoir. I, i, p,,, ,„„_
" Il could no", roS. B '°-"'<'"<"'. I "onder ? " "
«.e fronder. and'vTr^r^»^^™— ' ^-a" be apros,
"vo?™ia:îf,[î;rîi;d'4j-';^ ^' •"■" -i'-'"*'^-
<'fc'd"Tca'°o'^'; "^tlTt ;S"c'' an ■»;„ as he
madame n>ust lose her loverbut^'. "°°^ ' ««ret that
;!«. lïJfec." :rnls .n-. hï;;^,,' ' ■ "■^"'^■"= — «.
with
"•"* i^^iicci sang-troid • <« Hp ««o u . .""""^ «"i&werea,
. Grand passions fre âlways in bad ?n'^""'"f '° ^°^^ «"«'
was ludicrously in earn^si Welî nf •' ^""^ P^^"" '^°>'' ^^^
to-morrow, I suppose Imn,f ^' '««"s^e"^ as you départ
thisimproi^erhour andin^h? ^^^^°" ^" audience, even at
to the boudoir P '" thisapartraenf, or-shall wé adjourn
He laughed derisively. - '
str;&t^„^À'-''="dr,ottei?r;:-pSe'r,iï:
Sheneverflinched. He k lew ,hat "hen
«and"rc?rern -iThlrh^sb-^i' ><■ "^ <""' "<«
Iknowall!" ^^ "'"' <■"« s husband. You see, madame,
^e s.,Ued-^3^ .h^ ^„^^^^^^_^^^^
" ;""' "^'^"^'^ ^^"«^*-' '^^ «h'e keeps caged up like a
r'\
.^.h
':&,
j.^11
't/
► -va
♦,
r'
s '^ ?«.<•- «•
['^^
414
wild animal— what of her ? You see I knoyy tKat also. -And
ail the lies madame has been telling me from the first — what
, ofthem?" ^ #,
" Nothing of them. And lies is an ugly word to iise to a
" Diable ! do you sit there and mock at me 1 "Dq^u sit
thereanddeny this?" ^^-«X
'' I deny nothing, monsieur. I affirm nothing. Jm.. le
Prince will believe predsely what he pleases." ' ■■ •
" And do you think — do you for a moment think, I will"
marry you after ail this i^ You, the cast-ofT wife of this man
Caryll. You, |he mother of this girl — **
" Stay l M. le Pri^e," Felicia said, wîth one flash of her
yellow black eyès. "You hâve said qûi^ enough I No, I
do not think you -will marry me. I î«|g|iid not marry you,
with yourdiabolical temper and jealousj', if you were kingof
Italy, much less owner of a beggarly principality. I don't
really think I ever meant to marry you at ail — you ^re
much too old, and, if you will pardon me, too ugly. I adore
handsome men— Gordon Garyll and Lôrd Dynely are that; at
least. And De Vocqsal— you remember the Austrian mar-
quis, I think, prince ? Yes— welj/ De Vocqsal is coming to
Paris next week, and is more urgent than ever that I shall
become Madame la Marquise. He is young, he is hands»me,
he has fourteen quarterings, and a rent-roU that is fabulous.
He never calls me ugly names, and is much too gallant a gen-
tleman to intrude into a lad/s chamber at two in the niorn-
ing on purpose to insuit her. Hère is your ring, prince j it
never fitted ffom the first, and I am glad to be rid of it. It
is the only présent you ever gave me, so I hâve, happily,
nothing to return. Now let me say good-night and bon voy-
age, for I am really very sleepy." *
She yawned aloud, as she remôved the heavy diamond
from her finger and^ held it out to him. '
" Good-night, prince j and a pleasant trip to you bpth — he,
pauvre enfant, to the next worid, and you— to Italy, is it ?
Take your ring, monsieur, and go."
He took it, and stood looking at her, his face cadaverous,
r
"Q
V,
É^kiffiii-^-'*'*^''^" ^'^i^'^i:^
J5^
,■■■■ ■■\-^f'
II
■A»*-
, it
It
CHEZ^ MADAME.
415
"his ejt^s like coals. « Vou tell me this ? You mean to'
marry De Vocqsal ?" /
" l'am growing tired ôf the stage. Even that^zW». Yes-
J shall marry De Voçq$al, prince, and become a fine lady " '
"Thisistheend, Ihen?" -^ '
' " Oh, mon Dieu ! yés, if you ever mean to go. How can
■tçere be an end while you loiter hère ? Go I go ! I insist"
He laughed.
" Igo, madame ; pray do not say it again. Thanks for
your good wishes. Accept my congratulations beforehand.
Vj ,'^ ^ bnlliant destiny tp be Madame la Marquise de Vocq-
sal. " Good-night, and adieu."
^ He bowed Ipw, and was gone— through the dressing-room,
and into_the sittmg^-oom beyond. Hère, Pauline, still
guardmg Ihe wme, aad fàst asleep riow, sU in the dim lighi.
He went t^ the table,^omething between his fingers, a shill-
ing globule, aiid dropped it into the glass. • The bell rang
sharply at the moment. Pauline started up, with a cry, and
Di Venturmi vanished through the t)uter door.
♦'^Madanie ijever misses her nîght draught, so Pauline tells
me, he said to hnnself, with a sardonic smile, as he leaped
mto his waiting cab ; " she wiU not miss it to-nighî ; and once
dl-ank, there is a longer joumey before her than a bridai trip
to the impérial court of Francis Joseph. So good-niirht to
- you, madame, and bon voyage 1 " r »
..I»
,^.-
. ï^w»; •■■
}
■'«:'1!i;.;.
•-'
CHAPTER XV. '. A
'HOW THE NIGHT FELL."
RpM the window of her room, Crystal Ladv
ma!; Sarn''"';'^ ^"'""^'^^ «f^»^^^ o/ercast Fetî
orhalTb^SH ?°^"-.She layon a broad. W
almos. mvanably brought Éric, to drLs or S '^*"' ^°' "
voi?;'srtrra;' '°K' ''n.'r'Sd''"* '"r -<"■■"«
«roman ? nh l ,^ ï? ff '— that wickcd, beautiful, brown
-l
£t , .-i ^..fa 'l^àJ"^
*'!-
.•-* •■ 1
**HOW ^THE NIGHT FELL."
417
wicked— this unreasoning worship of hers : but wicked or ^
worthy, U woHld last until her life's end. She could see C
What a p tifu pale face it.^as ! And he liked rosy bloom.
Pf ^hy, plent.ful flesh and blood. The dancing woman hLd
Pîarl face, and her true and tender heart. Good and pleas-
Z &' • •'"' î°^ "'^''>'J°"« ^" «^«^^ ^ ««"«"0"t change
fui, beauty-worshipp.ng, thoroughly selfish man. Dimiy she
knew this. and w.th a half sob, buried that poor. was èd face
in her hands. He had fancied her fron, the firltTonly for
her pretty. flower-like looks ; let her lose thèse charnu, as
she was k>sing fast, and her last hold on her husband's hêart
was gone.
hear the door pushéd gently open, and a tall figure corne
tr . a''^'^^ softly over, and knelt on one knee beside
her, and so, ,n the duskof the room, looked down upon the
color ess. wasted face, the locked hands, from which the
' ^ut^ 7"f. •?""« '°°'^- Suddenly her eyes opened.
It is I, Cnssy," he said.
,.n J?1^J qÏI'^T'* 't°^ ^^^°8^^ *° ''"^ °^ e'^^^tric surprise
n»l^ ^'u K fl»"« her arnis around his neck. and held bira
as though she would never let him go.
"Poor IJWe soûl ! " he said, more moved than he cared
to shQW. '• You hâve been alone aU day, and hâve got the
"Yes,both. Yourmotherstayedanhour,andthenwent .
to raake some calls with Terry. France stayed and read to
me ail the morning. She is so good— niy own dear France.
They are ail good, but-but," the clinging arms close to-
getner, he can feel her passionate heart beat: «'Oh. mv
love 1 I only want you. ^
" Poor little Chris ! " /
It is ail he car» say. He lays Ws face beside hers for a
ruomettt, and is still. He is thinking of this time to-morrow
-^^^ ^ ^.^ s urelyas that he rests hère, ^hat the iîH!tef-=-
that kills him will end her life. And if is for that dark
lo •
I '-
ii
>>a
if
•■ fumif';.
Stâs
-■«e
-ïfe
, vjï'j'f'r ^ /
,^^5
418
"/ri?»' THE NIGHT FELl»
daughter of Herodias, he has forsakèn her. Ail at once a
loathmg of Pehcia, of himself, cornes upon hira. What a
black and brutal wrétch he is! how utterly unwortb^ of this
. spodess wife, uhose heart he is breaking. Ifthe past could
but corne over agam I if whàt is donc could be undone, hôw
differently he .woiild act, how happy he would make her.
iiut it is too late for ail that— the end has gpme
' J[^l^u^V' ï^xf^^ «ently, «l've norbeen averygood
sort of husband, Vm afraid-I never was a veiygood sort
of fellow at any time. l've done enough to forfeit ail right
to your love, but— you care for me still ?"
" Care for ydu ! " she whispered. And then the cirneing
grasp tightens, and shecan say no more.
" Yes, I know you do," he says, with a stifled sigh : «ifs
awfully good of you, Chris, for I hâve been a brute, thafs
the truth. And look hère, I don't mean this really, you
know but if anythmg happened ; if "— with a slight lauch—
I chanced to die, for instance—"
But she interrupts him with a shrill cry, like a child that
has been struck.
"Eric!" : ^ '
• "Foolish child! Do I look like'*dying? * It is onlv a
. suppositious case— let me put it. If I chanced to die. sav
to-morrow, you Would forgive me ail my wrongrfoing, my
neglect? You wotita not hâve one hard thought of me.
would you ?" 6 » "*^r
She half raises herself, and tries to look at him. But, still
laughmg, he holds her so that she "cannot see his face
" Answer, sweetheart— woùld you?" '
. " I never had one hard thought of you in ail my life, Eric,
never, so I could hâve nothing to forgive. If you died "•-
she catches her breath with a sort of gasp as she says it—
"do you thmk I could live? Oh, love, that is alï past. I ..
can never hâve any life now apart from you I '
"You thjnk so," he says, uneasily; "but you are young.
and— you 6oly thmk so." / " «1
' "I know s^" she answers, under her breath ; and instinc
tively he knows it too.
^WdV'^^<«y^i>a^-K?ngth^afte^ll^ony]mfl s e,"ï ^ ^^^^
■^l**!^..
^ .
Ijf-s»-^ ^
V-'^'K ^^h'<, ^>/,".^nN'>t''|FW^^'
"j^aV
"J/OfV THE NIGHT FELL»
419
are useless, but I wish with ail Kiy soûl the past three weeks
co nid corne over again. I ought to hâve made you hippy
httle wife and I hâve not. If-if the time is given me ^f
swear I mil. Now, let me go ; I hâve letters to write and
much to do this evening." ' ^
.lYou/'—she pauses, and looks at him with oh, such wist-
fuUong,ng eyes-"you are going out, as usual, Érié?"
- Wo, he says, smihng down upon her. " I am goine to
repiam m as ««-usual, Crystal. Lie hère until dlnneVS
announced; I w.U wnte my létters in your boudoir. You
corne onT'' ^^^' ^^ ^°"^ ""^^^ ""^ epistolatory attacks
r.St ""'°°^« theclasping arms and goes. And Crystal
nestles down among her piUows, and shuts her eyes to keS,
back the joyful tears that corne to women aliké in bliss and
m pam Just now her bliss is so great, that it is almost
pam ; she cannot, cannot réalize it.
mîîînr F^'!f ' "^^""l^ ""^^ aressing-room, into the pretty;"^
mirror-hned, satin-hung nest beyond, that is Crystal's su^ng!
room leavmg both doors ajar. He lights the lamps l^ihiselC
dmws pens, mk and paper before him, and sit^down to
h^L.!wK "\"st leavea few parting Unes with ^oviUe for
his mother and Crystal in case of the worst. lie wishes he
had made awai to-day instead of going to A^liières, but it is
too late for that The title and estate/go to â distant
cousin pfhjs fathei's, unless-yes, there iS o?e unle^s. Itl
fsTnlike? »»as never spoken^-he thinks himself it
"Byjove!" he says, under his^eath. «I hope so, for
her sake poor httle soûl. It mil console her; and dead or
alive, a fellow likes to perpetijàte the title "
HJî^r5'"'ï5'^ T^V'^ letter first. It j««l be the casier.
«;«.r M^ ^T^ ^"t ^T'^' February 26, 18-. My dear
mother, and there he ^ops, and gnaws the gold handle cl
h s pen, and pulls his^amber mustache, and stares at the
blank sheet with troubled blue eyes. What shaU he say ?
■*"4|y *»<^.'« Preli^n^nes^are worse than the thing itself.
4he ininutes/^fék offc-still he sits a«d stares at the whit«
#
.#*-
f
'#.
,A
ri
11
ii«-
! I
420
••//O»' THE NIGHT FELL**
Eric Lord D,„X rverl:, ^re^^i^'l^ru^i'^^-Pr
refuge of the de<;Ht•l^*. K-^r '■"^want oi the latter— that
down in the ink detom?n~f ' '"8*' "-e pen in desperalion
door is burs. Lden,T?^:'a^V¥irn*"^ °' P"'^"^ *«
=ye, andWs n'pTo hi™ â.Tce ^''^ °' '^=' «"'«' »'
Eric, «rhatisthis? Isittme?"
amS^a^ra-S" "^ f "' ^"^ ""^"^ ='- "'"■ l-ughty
othlP dâ^"""^ "«^" ' '^ '^'" ""^ P»»«d be.ween us ,he
"Is whae tnie?" still in hâughty anger
ou. JX":'„J"h"e dJ„I;:S™iin/ 'r ^f — H
ButI did not thînk voTwouW ^L^^^^^
Dynely. as to accept his chlSenl t^!"^— ^^^ '« ™^<^'
"It is quite true vr»? t • ^^" .^^" "'«' »« 't true?"
Mr. Dennison ? " ^^^ ^ '"^"""^ '» ^hat way it concerni,
Eric,Isay,L2tnôtgoo;?'''~'"' " '^ "°'^'"« !««•
prévemitl'"-""'^ ' ^"^^^- "H°- <Jo you propose to
" I wiU give information to the oolice 't „,n t
If I can stop it in no other wav th^ «!'« l^"^^"^ «^«*'" '
on^.,e,g,o„nd ber„„ ,^.'' ^^^ S^^S ^l^
7-
1,.. ',v' **■'.%'• ,
' V
^ 421
when and where he pleases" Ventunni
that you don^t stand r i, "°^x^ V' ^ ^^^^ «^ot, and -
shadowofachance Ad^eîl'Sh ?u-' ^T. J°^"' "«' ^^e ^
^^pall u by what name fou please, only be kind enough
chance I reZÀ hITa ' i^r"..''*^^"^ ^ ^hadow of a •
Inisisallnonsensel" Erirrri*./^ o«-,n«-i j-
-" a waste of time. I hâve leUei Z^ïi^""^ >™Pat.ently
to get to bed earlv to ni^hT ir ! î? Y"*^' *"^ ^ ^ant
doo'nyou.co't^rJ^errfhL^^^^^^^^^^
ma^r I can't and won't show the whfte feathlr î^''^ '' '
tunni has challenjred me Z/r 1 feather. Di Ven- ,
u at lo uisgrace t[^e name. Hâve W.. i^a^-ered i7in , X lI-t-
>. «
l'i
'•X>|^
l^œ^^MhAr^É;;'
Rf.
A
J' il-
>
422
"^OHr THE mCHT FELL.^
' > well as I. Let me meet th^ tVoiJI *"^™--*'^**.yo" ^^now as
l'ni a better shorth^n foi Idî^n ''""'"?' '" your place.
-V " You taHc like a pulS babv ^tt' ^'^^^^^^SP^ ^he hand.
' in my place, and /sneak at hL. H? •^'''' ."• ^^^^' Venturini
behind'thep^tticoit"?™;^,^^^^^^^
ferry drewl^ack, and fold?d his arms.
prince "'"'"'"''^ the„.Dynely? You mean to »n.et the
' undeTtTre:fi.nht"aliud*1.!^^^^^^
^^ii^r 'T^^- nfealrkfiryr?.--'
/ Terry.rilfor/ve^ou'^^^^^^ No«^. then
if you41 only Le v^riK o?^ "^^'^Ï'^S '°" "y «'ord,
. foinded borer Whenf man .ln"7' ?"k ''°.P ^eing acon-' .
,. ^ayhe„atura„yïïr^d^7p^tn^^^^
He never finished the sentence wSPf^ J u-
y . horror. Dennison was pointing to the doo^ nf^2 fl^^
" Great Heaven I Crystal I" Eric'iied
«*:
K;JCs i«M«&fl . ► «^'i,,-!. v«i''i^£^,^ .«iiXB /a-ât * «lu
/.Vi
The^
*. T
'^mr-'^^
"IfOfV THE me HT FELL.»
423
blood âowing fromTXs ' ' '"""" °' ''"«'« "^
.oT!i'ld!.7,r,V°°'^ P"'^"'' horror-stricken. U was al.
witted
lifel
onslauffht had heen c^ o -^ ""nself from fallmg. . The
only where the red, cruel ^S"oni/h"; '"""«," «hastly,
he pluDged blindlvXr ^. -, ''™.'^"î'°'''»)'- Then
Eric hal stoopl75^d h?. S? ■*"':• ■'"' " *« '"«>■"
fac^rrit'^S.I;?',""^ ï' "" »«>™^' 'hewall, and hi,
^■^Vff',, ^
'^'.
ît
/
K
■*'■-
■V, ■>■
"ïpM
II
t
KR I^HLji*^
11^^^^^
PII ^H^i^
li^^l
Pc>" .
\-
"%.
M"'
» •
CHAPTER XVI.
LOYAL AU MORT.V.
TRAIGHT to the Faubourg St. Honore st'raiahi
might be dying-was, no doubt, and he woirld be
beforé any of Eric's niessengers to break Z Tpw!
to Enc's mother. His teethVére ^«.f hicfle» ^ • ^^^
clenched, his blue^ eyes aflame th^ blof ZT'''^"''^
in her";Srfl''-°'"MS=''™""'^'<""- «he came rustling
leW'eTal;3'L*?r„|of.ferXÉrSl^ ." t''^
bonn« „as on >fJ »^:.t:!^Xi^Zot'ô^ l^!T,
prie face „ excted sparkle in her ight blue eyes As Z'
__ _ ,j.«sMt -«iim™» uu l^Jear^ I »as just st«rlfng.fbl —
S
^t^lpl
j * ' "'• i.
i^m^
W^ 1
I
*
1
( t-.
)i
"LOYAL AU MORT»
tell me, it ïs only a rumor tï./ k -,', ^^"^ ' ^P^^"^ ^nd
. n,„ïio*for„o:'.'" «' *- i-h- t-th haid. AU
" Of what do you speak, I,ady Dynely ? ■• '
■ of his wife, .poor little créa nVe ^^?H 1,^ "^ """^ ^'^ "^«'^^^
horrible dancer. . Oh ! S a /rn?hr " "^""'"^ ^^'"'- '^^^
"What was it De Concressai^ll ,aid ? •■ inquired he aloud
tho prince down a»ain .«i 1 ^".^"™'^"<i ">at Eric knocked ,
changé !ïr<ir4 and gfdi'cTfo "^t,'"" '™^ "'"' '»
bruised'and ^^ ^e . " ''" """"«'• ""<""« '»
.' Terry, I commandîyonl Soeak anrî t<»lf «,.. • .w
fitorytiue?" ^^i^caK ana teiI me— is thw
ii^Çl^fc^ «"^ afr«d »t is."
^ane .lain .hjM ; -ha»j^ j»i^^^ fc .„ i. r ~-
"Ami E™ went there with that'.onji^^hT, ^S^ Stag «
;!'."?«S
< >
'e
I
-m
t
'1^
et '
r
r<
„«.«fev.
i„â
m
426
•K
' (
P|i:';- '
** LOYAL AU MOATr
pSrn-^v f .*\t..^'<^J^ed dancing-place, and insulted
JrTince Di Ventunni?" ...
"My lady— yes."
He spoke reluctantly, teach admission dragged from hiiu.
Falsehoods came never readily to Dennison, and then. o«
what use weie falsehoods hère ? Shew«j/know.
" He insulted Di Venturini, a man who fights duels upon
the smallest provocation— who wilî take no insUlts from any
one Terry, tell me-^tell me the truth, I cçmmand ! Has
Ui venturm; challenged Eric ?"
"Lady Dynely, I am sorry,,sorry to hâve to say once
more — yes. ' * ,
Her blue eyes dilated, the last trace of color faded from
ner lace. ♦
has-^1''^"'''*" ^^^ ^^^' '" a sort of t^hisper. «Eric
" Acc^pted. There was no alternative. I am very sorry,"
Dennisôn said agam. ^ ^
She ^at down sUddenly on a sofa near, so ghastly that he
dr^close m alarm. ' * '
Sh^I^^ ^^"^^y^ g°°^ Heaven! 'you are going to faint. ,
w«fift^3Ti^i? to besrill, the sick, giddy faintness that
was hke déath, holdmg her speechless. 1,
T " ^?'*\L^''^'^S' ''^*'' ^ g^P- " I-I won'haint. Oh,
q7 'k t^lfV'^'i'" ^ ^^^ ""'y Eric ! my son, my son."
bhe buried her face m her hands and was still, whether'
crying or Iprayii^ Terry could not tell. He stood uneasily
lookmg atelier, feelmg hombly uncomfortable, not knowini
m the least what to do or say. • ""*'"»
:J^^ !?°K l"^ u P ^^^^ * ™°™ent. Her eyes were r:^d and
mflamed, but she was not crying, '
" When do they meet ? The truth, I insist."
under °hirbreth"'°™'"^ "' ^''^^'^^^" ^' "^'"'"'^ ^"^^'^
.iZâ^'f ^^7 fight with pistols?" she shuddered, convul- '
«vely, from head to foot, as she said ît.
" W ith p istols."
" w itn p istois." ^ _ - „ _
^AndDÎ Venturini willkillhiml" she çried out, rising
:S!^->é^^Èè^$ài:}?^fSil^;\jU-, ,H*.-^ ■^.i * .^x.K
y - » •< . j . Ji
rm^mim' ' 1
IP^'A
't'''.-
It^f.
J-f^f
n
'^.
*•*?'*' y
** LOYAL AU MORT."
427
to me, and you hâve br^tea-ymir^th YouW^ïf T
bw' put out his hand blindly, as thougir^àrd o« a
corne hère andtell'„,e thaï .o.Jrranou^"utr„dS>vIS
1 uc wiu iisten to me— to mç, a most wretched
TT
'^■"^i «:
Â
m
h
t- 1
428
"LOYAL AU MORT*'
Lady Dynely, you must not gq. For pitVs sate «f»*,
a moment longer Eric will never f^giveyonTyou^oth^^t
" He will not be alive to-morrow morniL if I do IfS
i.j"f.r._rs£,t-.s;,a.i-:as,tr
" Terry ! " shj^ exclaimed, « what is this ? "
brow to"ch1n "" nT~^ ^"'"^■"^' ^^^'"«^"ï <^ri'"«on. from
F
the truth burst upon
."Terry!" ahe m
this ! "
cried out in new horror, "Eric bas donc
«rongly enough once .cnight Ut „,e forge",h'rb°C tf î
.a^!;^?;"? ''Z^l ^:^ --. ^--d -'-d «,e bn„al
Forgive him, hâve pitv on me Tn L»;» "^*
must. prevent this duel He is aîl ITv^^T "*",' ^^'îî
^him so fondfy-oh I with more than m^h^^s ^"'1^^*^
1 ^i ç lie nas g on e pc o pi a bave loyred anif^
^■frrK'^';^"^^.^
'•.:^^p:0^:i,i..U^
"LOYAl AU MORT.»
429
adimred him. He is ail I hâve- -ail I ever had. M y heart
is wrappeH up m him. He worries nie-he troub/es fte
but I couia not live if I lost him. Terry ! Terr^! pt^fê
--pit^^hln, He ,s soyoung-hfe is so bright for him^ Vi y
hi8 wife, whom you love— and in sonie way— oh in aZ
way! savehis life." '^y— on, in any
whîîhTT ^^^^ J^i™^ÇJose-her pale passionate face, over "
which the tears p<)ured, was upheld to his. So in the su-
prême seîfishness of mother love, she pleaded. In some
Sr;%enSr"''^ '''' "^^ ''' °"'^ '^^^'^^^ ^'°P« --^^
hJI^.;?*®°'^ '?^-^. Vriblé struggle going on within him;
S tït T^ T ^"'^ ^" ^" Sood faith andfello^ip, ready
AnHF ' place to-n,orrow before Di Venturini's pistoL
And Erjc's answer had been a blow. No man had ever Sruck
Hke a brand at this moment. And he was called upon to
forg,ve th.s-th,s and the hundred other insults Eric Dynely
had offered him, and at ail risks save his life. ^
••Terry,'!'^Lady Pynely said, stiU holding him close '*do
you remember that afternoon last August?^ \Ve were klone
together at Dynely, and I told you yoSr story. I need never
^v U^ '^ ^TT-'"^'' ''^' '^''^ ^° '"^'^^ ™« ? You knelt a[
my teet, and I put my arms around you, and kissed you for
iot oh T; ^^«^«i' /««^^hen-I hâve loved you since, bu
2^t-oh, no ! not as I loved Aim. Do you remember what I
^id_^to you that day ? Do you remember what you prot^sed
h.^w ^'^^^^^ ^"s^«r- She does not know what she is ask-
tnghimtodo. She does not know of the struggle thaVis
gomg on m the heart, beating in such hard throbs Lainst her
^1} ""^^^ îîr^"' -^^ ^^°^S^ '' "^^""^ this moment," she softly
went on. «I said to ydu, 'Be a friei^, â brother to my
L^i I f "ir"°-n^'ï^ you-he is reckless and extravagant,
easily led self-wiUed, and wild. He wiU go wrong, an/you
He^4e«^te«n>tyau^^
.'-?,A
t^
■^>:'
>''■' ,■'■
i: •
430
" LOYAL AU MCRt)»
do ail morial nian can do Yo , h? 1?^ ^°' J'""". ' »ill
of n,, life-i „o„M be i;», ihaa Z„ ^'? "" «"o'' ""?«'
brave a'„d Jbu7 1^^,, *Cfc?'K'>°" 5-= l««
AU ..^e sa„e *o„,H, so ..afh'e sa'î^taîân^»™!;
j^S;,r5,ir ss';'i';f<.„''i'^f»''«a„da„d
call iipo,iyo„_save Eric 1° ""'"'=«• Terry, I
Hesloopedandkissedher.
. &ay no more, mother Wmr^^^t *
•aveEric." " mortal nian can do it, I «,i||
•pont hère aireadv. C u^' '"°,„"ï<* "»« 1»» been
« once. Crystalis ilL^^ ' *° "• ""« Hôtel du LouvTe ■
Xii ? ^-
'i'^
'W *
I
(■"s.*;
"loy4L AO MORT»
. ^;i-:
I
431
- Hi smifcd •"^»<m do you mean to sa.e Eric > "
savehira mavsuccMa-w,T.S. "''^ ^A-^l-'hat ray plan to
" An opiate "î- '^ ' «"" '"'" *" "P"'' to-nighe."
Sleady his nerves for »m„' "'"^ .''"P ''"" >"/■ To
•-he^wil,, SS;' 7obabi; ^re^t^v"'",'" î""""'^
must see that he doU a«^ ■ ^ l- ^' ^" ^^ct, you
-wme. or béer and admin?,^^ '""^"'^ '^"^^ '° ^^"^^ ^ g'assof
' "Oh.Icandothat lhi„ ;^ Al dépends «pon that."
to the Louvre, ahd perfor /yo„r par° In iT.f "^T^^^
I wjll call to see how CrvsJl ,"/ ^t u u°"^ ^'^^ ''O""
i.npor.ance^,aJ ^aVaXb'd-b;.-^"'"'- °'
'ight. or govirtuons^yioLCbed ''M''r°'R^'«n '!*'. "■"=• '
them, and Mr Bovilli ■= rf.h ? ■ i- «"""« isamong
baity'of a Unie ran e ôf Uni ^^ "'*'" *'""=" "" »<'"«-
fion for slambir.Xn I S^SL Ï * ?T'''"« P'=P«»-
hi» hand heavily'on h," Ser ' ''"'"'^''' "^ «"^ "^^
, Bo« e swmgs roandjwa faces his interrogatbr
the d?nci?,'S,era .or'^'"S„"'f' ""'' T'^"^' ^ -hat
own gho!t." "" "■'' """î y™ look likeyour
Oûks hi8 arm through the dragoon's and goes,
I
iV
V.l
K
à"-
-3'
^'
M
%
V.
432
**LOYAL AU hORT.*'
Without a t^ord, Terry leads hini away frpm the glare and
gas-light ghtter of the thronged boulevards" f6 some distant
aimly-lighted, deserted street. . . '
Without a Word Boville follows. This is soraething seri-
ous,. he feels. Has the duel got wind? Dennison and
Dynely are relatives, Boville hazily recollects— relatives of
so^e soit ; he is not quite clear about.it. . No doubt Den-
nison I^as corne to speak of the duel ; but why with that
fade ? \ ^ "^
fBoyJlle," Terry abruptly begins, *^Lord DynelV and
Tnnce pi Venturini fight to-raorrow, do they not, and vou
are Dynely*s second ?" ^ ,
'^ Weluctantly— yes. . It's abad business, old boy. Dynely
hasn t a ghost of a chance^ and so l've told him. But a
wilful man-j*-you know the/^roverb. Besides, weally, vou
know, ' Mr* Bovillçhas a j-qoted objection to the letter R,
I aon t ree how he is^oifig to get out of it. The Prince—
confound^^^lJUBfOukl^ud him as a coward far and wide.
and Eric s nôt tha|/ My dear Terry," they are passing un'
det a Street lampât the moment, and the light falls full upon
self? There w a bwuised swelling the size of an ece be-
tween your cy^." * ^
DennisonV face turns crimson, a deep, burning, tinglinir
cnmson once more. , He pulls his hat far over his eyesTand
tries to
"An incident, Boville. Never mind ray face— l've no
beauty to spoil. l've corne to talk to you about this duel.
At wb^t hour do they meet ? "
T " ^L ^r^* P^^P °^ ^y* between haltpast six and seven.
It won-t do to be later. But who told you ? De Concressault
or Dynely himself?" .
" Both. Boville, this meeting must never take iplace I "
" Dehghted, l'm shaw, to hear it," drawled Mr. Boviïle,
opening two very sraall, very sleepy blue eyes to their widest •
" never was accessory to a murder in my life— don't want
to begin now. But, at the same time, how do you DwoDwofle
topweventit?" ' fwv|/www:
"^Yoiican refuse to act for^Ëic"^
i*v'-
Vv?**At*,»iS',# .
e glare and
me distant,
ething seri-
inison and
•elatives of
içubt Den-
r with tAai
)yneljr and
t, and you
y. Dynely
ni. But a
'eally, you
; letter R,
e Prince —
and wide,
assing nn-
s full upon
g to your-
n egg be-
g, tingline
eyes, and
— l've no
tbis duel.
nd seven.
ncressault
•lace I "
r. Boville,
ir widest ;
on't want
>wopwose
^-^^;_4:v-H:.j:i"
**LOYAL AU MORT»
43j
" his^yf ^ shrugged his shoulders and inserted his glass in
-still. the few rVe goï I pTonoTe^r^"' i" o„ family
«usttakf the conséquences ^^^â^^^^^^ '"^"P^' ^^^
tationwîth Felicia-now he's ?! ',„^^ ^^'l^hree weeks' flir-
Vfopos des boues ^e wJI • ^ • *,°i'^>' *^^ penalty. Afi.
io^iest. If ïwSe sle ti^^^'^P^'f [^^"^ to-night-at Z
weinarf?» '"■"""«'«• Will you kindly wepeat your last
<h. firs(, and I rail rSn vou to ïfn ^:;° '"'' 'ï''""»» '">■"
«o «ee his Sd * "" *" "J"- "<• '^«» '■> tte darkie»
ance. NoTl S V"" '"? °*" *=»'"' "f "y icquaint'
oi^o» .^: U:Tf,ur«„"rA'"- '^"''' ^'■^- »^
\
-•Si'
t*.'
1 %
454
'LOYAL AU MORT**
^
W
,^;-
t.^
samedeadsho. .he prince i a^^ Thaven "Ki.'^ '°*
moLw." '^°'' ' """ '» ■»«' Di V«t„rini ?i
Bo^leïili "'* ' ''°®'^ détermination tluu convinced
Inmself ,s not more obstinate or more plucky han Dvnefv "
''You must be awfully fond of him, 1 W old bln
Oad ! I never heard of such a thine in al mv £ v \
t'prin^ ZrS;::^. ^^ ^^ - -^ chan^ befo' l'
telî'vou°rJ''i'*"''"f°™?''<'" '«P°»'iecl. cooUy; -as I
mostTén •- " '"■^ ^'" """ '"^ '»'' '"'''' «y o™ with
s^pose, now, Dennison, ;oS ^p^i VeïSinfwm
fignt you instead of Dynely ?" i'p »c x/i v eniunm wjli
"I don'rsuppose he would, if he knew.
tention to let him know."
" Ah, how will you Kelp it ? "
« aTt^t'ÏS'î^n ^' ""'^'^ "^^^ '^^ Eric in his lîfe ."
kno^LicI^aTok'%trd>*"^ ^^ Concwessault
pair of eyes ? " ^°" »"'°P°'*' *° ^««e two
It is not my in-
r'i
■•^v
M£?.fcrîai!|àte .--la&j
'^'ï^
w — IHHlHL .-.?»W^[||
1 1
t •■
7'^;^?!^^^*^,^-
**tOYAL Ai; MORT»
«U this lîme, wili^ fiïîSv ? ^ ' '"^ '■^"J'- A»d «hère
Terry reddened.
"^^ÎÊÊ "" '''"^™«^' ' ^^^- *«*« «-« of
"dIE^^^^Y" «^^"i'^*^. «nfeigned amazem
him?" o™gg«JI By Jovel And who will dnïg
«Hismother. At my request."
you must be of Eric l " ^ "' ' ^' "^"^ ^^^^
you havc it" "^** **^ ^*^P *•»« P»e<îge. Thei|
«on's^Uc^^ Dj ^lTâBked you to me et tfae prince in her
n
-4
r
#
«4 *
^
«î'
f.
436
**LOyAL AU MORT*
wife wogld break their hii». An^i ï^ t" "'°*«' »»<>
you ?" ^ «ovuio ? I can dépend uptm
:.8isS»^'*** "^ ''^ ' ''^"' ^«°»;«>»' B,t if you in.
''Idomsist Whatisthehour?» * *
close upon miâni/ht, S TS, L " •"*'• .'' ""
"whl^'lï'En^'?"'"'" •*« ?»■> W»- mumuT. -The»
It a. quieUvïïVcMd»'^ *''*"'*'"''• Hetoà
,; .
y ^«
:*£*;,
>W iny bene-
fnother and
w his breath
light the tall
for the first
nearer than
"Vi,
■^ I warn
», Bovilie,
!» motion-
:• It was
uid sofUjr
im in the
r.
le; "and
ail ATtery
the doc-*
. ^^hen
5, Terrjr.
Hetook
M
''l^"n«"'*^«^;V'»-'f^^
rc;
V-'.f-4
** LOYAL AU MORT.**
437
. foreItfo--mavT*antnf "°< '"^ s^range shyiiess, «be-
Shi m^!ï^Vf° *" '^'^ ^ moment and look at Crvltal?'»
S,1tebS.^ki;mvsh«lï «^«^^"tïy down bythe little
^' My littli/cKcliHl^K ^^J' «> «>W» so wbite, so pure.
love,1^bXSee'^^^^^
Hess to you. then T r#.«î«r! ;► n- , ^ can bnng happi-
«htfaiolUïht Th™STk '".'WfGreet profile turoed to
to T^.&T^t^;:^'!^ •» «y •?« >«« "ord
' l
" ^
f
' >
Hrtnnjn»iL—
r^ :*:
,..?>wr;
'Â"-Â
\-é^-%' -'^'^-..^ j _•'
r < >\
»ir
:i'
CHAPTERXVII.
HOW THK MORNINO BROKE.
dent of Paris. ™""e. and an English surgeon, resi-
.hel^e''^n''tri'eî'" ^rJ'fJ^i?.''' ""-»-«.• and
«ant spol, where nnZTh. '^ • * *° * secluded and dis-
in^of hônoïn-aStCp^JeTefor^ -ore,^.„ee..
.nIgraœX^^Ï;.a^.1!.-Sîr --"»"
. comradeship between bim and T«^„a?^^ï'„/'"' '""'' °'
standmg, and the settled convicri™ÏJ7,^Z, hf .W^
mornng that Teirv was ■mi„„ .„î"^ Ç^°'"°"'"'dreajT
:.wea.h4 Perhap^YadToSng .o d'':!5; hiltetS?"^
also the unearthlv hour at wW^h k u /Z ™* forebodmgs,
- up. but most of aU D?Ventuïn?« ''^'^ *?''*'" °"'«^<* ^«^ l^t
" Wish to Heaven T S ^ réputation OS a dead shot. -
but this isV^e* Neviir hear^ " Enc was bad enoqgh,
pi-J^C^' '"^"'^^^ "" i«««'»^'- "ow. beneath the driiv
" Wc'r r wat her ahe a d u f tiu,e, 1 t h ink,.* jtoyfflc ^^3^^
,1
'É¥-: "'-'^4%
night— it
ien inom-
struggling
tare drove
n got out.
;eon, resi-
laft; and
I and dis-
erplexed
3u, Den-
band of
rjy years'
is dreary
liserable
tïodings,
d to get
ad shot. -
i inkw-
enoqgh,
getneot
be, I
e driiv
ml
"f-
Il , ■ ^ \
ffoif ras Mosmitc BROKB.
^arily, o„«, a, tt,ey pa»ed swiftiy „ver the shor., we,^
Lady Dynelv and aSh ^ ï-^^ '^""®" * ''"^f note to
would happen fhat he f-^, T^ ^7'^^ ^'«"■^^- ^nd thé worst
q-arrel betweén Dî W ^^^^''^ly ^^ Boville himself. The
. sort x\.T^iZ^l^Z"'^T^^'''^^^''^'''^'^^'^^^'^y
walked hère he knew ?h..^K ««asures. As surely as he
he could. '^"««^ that the p„n^e meant to kill hini-if
Aiul^^p^o^usr^am^c^^ ^^••^^^^•"g -ght.
great. rlddy, t^ooSr ±^^^ '^^^^^^^^ shavea Vhis
ment It dee^^edS ifn? fl ^ ^i^^ ' ^"^'"^ *^°''"-
ibJy-_even Se wi, l/n • ?^°"' between theni incred-
sweUing between th^£?"l"!^y^'"'T'"^<J- That impnrpled
applicafionsHhe ÎouS ïelt t^ 'f''^%^ byjJdicious
altogether. His cS^n/ ^^^ P""^^ ^" ^^^wn, hid it
exclude the r"i and ^th îh''*' '"™"^ "»'' "^^"«-^"y. to
blance in thei?fi 'ure and w Jt' J'^"'.'/^''",^^' ^•'' °^ '^«^'»-
^suspicion ofîL""r:?h^^i'k^:X'sf^^^^^^^^^^
second suspect the exchange " ^^°*""°' o"" ^'s
ioli^U^tJZ.'^'''^'^^^ Itwasdesened. Boville
do
'to^or;ïj^'.s;:^.?^^ ^"^•^V »>-^-- ^t won.
•nnaire «race for whJ^h k;„ k.Lur™^"^'
1»^ j^ ïhrm ^^^°''* "°^ bo TO d^to h » H pro fotmdlv
i ,
.4:
../^«fei l'-jf;-: -^w^s
fe^'
4f^.t^'
^ '■>.
^-» î-'' ,
440 fTfyW THE MORNING BROKE,
very instant I say three " ^eaven s sake fire the
an?'t^Ll°s"olacf ^^^ V'^^y his cigar, received his pistol,
alone Sv w ,S*^ ^ T^ ^"^ ^ ruddy mustache were
l«mdSrf. "««"enf» paua^-Boville held oat awhite
• -»^S*°*'''""^'*""'" Then a pause, "oiie*-two»
ffiP^ tW was a paisè, brieC tembleT ïïe ^Se
^^
îjSJI
s^a^
SaS^'
r^»
1^"
l'E
^
y^
..M
P^
-^V,.
K
4
r
îd BovilU
lay,
ng neces»'
lit of their
d to busi'
ed by hw.
the mist,
throat in
ï}le, stood
if-smile bi
;d; great
in thèse
re simul-
handkcr-'^
^t .V,. .- *,v/ '^. %. .: , ; i-, ,-;v\' r- ^rfi^:^^.
^OW TffE MORNING BROKE.
fixed on Terrv Wa«-hJ ^ oToken. Boville's eyes were
Jike a log on his face ' ^^"""^ half-r^nd, and fall
ghastly, theeyesclosed andS>\^««'-. ^^^ <^ace was
the beart a sniall sSam of Ki î ^'■''"''" *« ^-^gion of
through his clothes. °^ '"'^^î^ ''^^ «aking ifs way
thè'fSlen'iîrn''" ^^"^ -^«ï' ^-If almost as white ^ ^
"No—fainted, but—"
Heaven'ssake Tack«iAn c« if^^ °*^ ''"P^^'ence. «For
The doctorVored gri^^^^^^^^^ Zl J""'' ^"^ ^^ ^'^'"^ ? ''
"I think there is WrLï w ^-^'^ '"^^'P^'^^'on-
young n,an wonTlive irhoL'"*^^^^^ ^-'»- Thi,
?h!! YT ^"^^enJy. and tiuied away
hâve li^ed to be ninetj^ ^ this poor fellow woSld
^^^Can he bfe moved ? » Hubert Boville asked. i„ a stiiied ,
bu^wo^S'i^aîtlrt "ï^heL'r^'"- '•' ""^ ^«*«» *« ênd,
" To the Ho el du^ fv^e ^His^ïï^^^i^ '^'^\^''» ? "
" Poor lad I Bv Tnn^r * f « fnends are there.*^
lost in prof<^sionarid"Kiot^ ' *^"'' '" ''^^ ^^^^^ <="H
^«nteî!S "p?"^"^ ^^« P^^<=* ^d »hc captai» of Zouavet
' ^See^if
i^aea^ Dë^Concrewaul^" they heaixi W
t.
«il
— »tiS
■> 1.
n
; "i^ 'w
,»T J^^T'VSF^- t
-'V \-
44a : ffOW T»B MORmm BXOITS,
Venturini say noachalantlv • »mvA^*.u a .
the ground. ^ *' ^^^"^ ^^*"»' »>oth hastUy quitted
by'Ste'r.:^^^^^^^^^ Le„.
and Lady Dynely. senJsaf nZ a^^' feverishiy asleep,
lay shll, in deepest, dreauïws Jen ^'^f^ ,^^^ Jo{^ Eric
hourpast. camiess sleep. SafeJ and thip fatal
had^heTto^M^'aLirï^'n'^^ ^•"«^ I" -hat way"
anxiously and faïlsoni Vi?'^^ ^^u"*^^» '^«^ '^as bearinj "
not -Cen. H^ ni IT J' '"^^SP^" her, but she would
never think of keepin/l^L ^oîd f^Ji'^ ''^^ ^*^~^« '^«"W
had never longed^fo? âny^n^» i^''*^-. O^ly-as she
longed for Ten|'s now "^ °"^' *'°™°« "> »»«• life, «hé
bef^fcr^ g^<^» W place by^^^^
sweetly-Iike a little tïud hisTinH ï" ?^*««^P--«>und|y,
pOlowed on his arm/a d lacid Ln. ^^ ^'^P^^'O'ne head stU
hf face. She8t(2MCLl.?kSï!''^P'°^°"»^ ''«'on
"f her heart He\^1he "dol of h.^^ ^°' «»"»
Men. And but for Tenr he m ahf h , '•"'^^ ^^^^^^^ ^ad
injthe rain somewherr^^n n?t ^^J^"'^^^ «ut there
goo4 he was, ho^ generouî! n^r^^*"^.*7" "*>'^- How
resigned life's best dfts aShe hX Jk"^ '"^^^ '^"'^ ^ave
her sake. She woSd sW h^ i° ï' ^«""«^brother, for
Ae was. ho.e noble sïe îhou^™b ° ^ ^"*«-« ^^^ gratefol
Encs,rredinhissleep-h^i,t-,^,^^^,^ 3,,^,
\
^*JSJ»^^% .nf
,;<^^È4*-=j^«-.fc, ,">
■kl.l
k-Ski.^ J ^'
*5k-
:f
V
t be losinii
him." ■
ided, with
t, and the^
le Prince,
rofoundly,
ily quitted
• Seven,
tle Swiss
y asieep,
"Jng. In
ofa, Eric
thp fatal
irhat way
' beating
B of the
e w-ould
isane as
e would
-as she
Ue, 8b9
îrystaPa
oundly,
ad still
rest on
!br hùn
Ks had
t tbere
How
I bave
ler, for
ratefiil
i beni
/
Jf&tF THE itORNWG BROK&.
\
443
He
low to catch it—wa» it bera. wa« •'» k:= * v .
tu^ed,„dspokeagain!Sa^^^ __.
mon^:!?^'^ '^ ^•'' "^^«^•«' ^ A.«. I wUl mcet yo,. to-
tbat fatil woi^anV who hid ^ nJT'' '^'^ thoughts were-
Sbeeqrnedwithoût anothe^rok ?^^^ ^'^ ^^»'''-
A quarter past X »r^" • ^"^'^ ""^^ «"*»o« she was.
and on tle la^nd nfttce^d nV7'''f "^'^ 'l ^"" '^^ ^^o»"
face with Hubert Ke^ ^^ ''^'''' ''^^ came face to
wofd\'ad%tSefs"?kn'/r '" ;?^"^^ ^'^ "P«. before a
. «.nd, his face p:^!^ e^S' exdtef hTIS'^'A' ^'^^
" I was rom.n„ .„ ^*^P^^; • Ob, what is t ? "
1 wras commg m searcli of you, Ladv Dvnplu » h« ^i
Tbere wks an instinctive rni.i«i=» • u- " ^^"^"^y» be said.
bad not she in some w^v senl n.n '•" '^'^ courteoys tone-
brought Un. htre. He is below ta'ihe c^ ' wm""" ï""
hn^ 1!.; ; "" V '"^'" ^°se. " ijoville rçpeated nmim. tr_
«ï,
ï,^'
X
X]
'•r," • ^
^^U-.JJ*. *^\w.fe^.lf*,^„^,.
• <p
I': t\ " V
J^r'
i-a
il .
444 irâfP TUE MORNWG BROICB,
•'~.i.-' i.
:k
recognized as her own. ' " * '^''"'^ "*^ «"« '^0"1<Î hâve .
^*^°' "«y ïady ; not yet"
«once, f„ ,ÎS Sm*' °'"^ «»«i»g fomard. ««once-
,*er'Ôr"a^'^;!i^S^j^ï^ 'o prépare i,™«, =
«ghtho„„ ^=J^'Tero^-Ter„U,„„i„^^^g^^ .
rio», «ouS'^/Mi'llf Bovine wi,hrealc„„\
away.» ' ™ Slastly horror of her &ce, "coom
Sbe tmned lo him.
«0. IZ.^'^ ""•" '"^ "'^»P«™1. .. Yo» ,„H ,« he wa.
-find the bail. TheSnt i^ « "'""i" "•' «°"« '» «^'o
reture." moment the opération is over yoo «haU
. ^^''P. .<« ,h..p««,, ..„ ^ „, .^ ,_ ^ ^
I^^-iif^iË;^ >i
"**4 -^35».
w
^.^
V
•"«' .-^Myff
to atve
y-"
nie life. ^ /
once«—
itwith "
îd her
dy the
yji *
'V
/:"*"'f^'"
1"* 7
/rair 7!aB morning bhojte.
AAS
^ this—for my son's sake I seot
■*Hr-who hâve H^illed him. Ob.
''*'> keep his Word."
ler face hidden in her hànds.
'ipg— she only spoke the
dislilae to scepes, and so
■on's iake,' I made Te
hîhî to his death. I
Heaven ( this is howj
She feil down upon^
He could say nothl
truth. He had a mi
lefther. 1-,. -
He returned to the chlîibe'r he had quftted. The suiveon
rose at his entrance from his work ^"'^ ^ "® sutgeon
"Well?" Boville asked.
, "^k*f n"°u ^""^"^^^ *^ ^""«t» and he is dying. You ma*
as welt tell them so. Hé will be a dead man in^an hoïr " ^
« Poor klïow l " Hubert Boville stood witb foldeïï;™».
an expression ofbitter regret on bis face, look ng down ÛS
mm
V
. /-"/
^
was
you
Y to
haU
>Qk
W^
?•
^^Bv
i.«
,v^
'à.'ê..:7i\'jé1^^^.iM
i^
C*
GHAPTER XVIII.
»
r "WHILE rr WAS YET DAY. ' »
servants of thel^iJl ZfJ^u *™î ^'^°'» *« whispenng
asked for Mr. Cme and MrS,Tlf7"^ terroréhe had
told the whole truth ' S llS^H "^ *'^''f*''"« ^«"^^rd and ,
of the past for Lady dSI^H h"**^!!^^" ^''^ «^<^rifiœî
Itfe Surely he hai^pXhl^ebt """^ ^'^^^"^ "P »^«
cal.'" ^^rT:^^XL^l^:Stt^^^ straoge,;n,ournfuI
ï^le facej, but still more U? the „inl' ^f**"^? °° ^^^ '^««'.
«f h^manner. ^ ""^ unnatural quiet and grmity
f Ma^ ïg^inXruî^S^^.^'^^ fi- minutes.»
wihbevery quiet" *^ *^^t*^«*^ " ^ wiH not disturb him. I
hâte breaking things to pec^^i:;" ^ ^"'' ^"^ ^«"•««»*'- ? I
4aTfV±^eS:,;^°^Tirr«-'''
" Hav,. ««., J'^raaiîs. Certamiy not more "
*e bed. °A7f^'*r.si"LH'''T'!''"- s*«b«»o;.
.■n
ti
11
^♦■i
,«>•'
*»*'
I^Ë>^$^'^'4:-iSi&44MË^ H«< Lh'l^ ^1v >..'j^«î^-^{,%~> "
li ■«->&'
^:
!*4<^;*
r
tFff/LÉ tr fVAS VET DAV.^
447
« Does he suffer ? " she whispered to the doctor acrogs the
bed.
;"Verjrlittle,.ifany. The hemoirhage is internai. There
18 faintness, but no pain."
The low whisper reached lïiin.~^e opened his eyes, and
a smile of récognition carae over his face. x
« France I " he gaid, faintly. , -^
u "^®f' J*'"y'" Then aU at once a great choking seized
ner and she could say no more.
^ î," P?"'' ^'" ^^ ^^^ st»" ùântly, smiling, «it will— be—
ail nght."-
. " Y^*' î*«" °^^ ^ellow, I think it will." She stooped down
, with infinité pity and tendemess and kissed him. ** Yon
•you are going, Terry— do you know it ? "
• •''Yes. It's ail right, France. Don't cry so. lesawfully
good of you to come."
His strength seemed to rally for a moment He looked
anxiousiy around.
'" Where ara I ? This isn't my room."
^^" Don't make him talk too ,much," thè doctor said.
" Hère, su-, dnnk this."
He swaUowed the spoonful of liquid and still watched
France with anxious eyes.
" You are in one of Ëric's rooms." ^
« Eric," his eyes lighted, " where is Eric ? "
" Asleep. WouW you like to fee him ?"
The light faded from his face. Ali at once he recalled
the hvid bruise between his eyes, and averted it even in that
hotir.
" He—might not— care to come," he said with difficulty.
"How is— Crystal?" '
•* Crystal is recovering. Oh I don't think of her, of him,
of any one, dear old Terry, but yourselt We hâve sent for
à clergyman. He will be hère in a moment. You will sec
inm?"
He nodded assent. '
, " Where îh the roadre ? " he asked.
"ïn *he neyt rpom— broken - Jieart e d Shall I gp foi
■ l'&Vt^
"rh-
• il'
%:-
f'' -Ûr J
-Wf^
>'f*V.-L'
■^\ ÎV"»'* M
::j.
^
:.^iA^d
■î*v"
M'
^^. S'^'^^'î ^j'a^^'î" aH'"'^-)*
44« ^ •' frmzn ir was yet day.-
.j>-
•.*^-.
"Poor niotherl Ye»."
bm. «ruck him f„U i„ Z^ 1?5J"' "'«'"> En^track
yoo ; tell him ail.» "" "P ^^^ J ««<* him with
She ran frontMhe room, and into EnV. i* *
ng and muttering restlesslv nU .h - ?® '^ »»w.
losojts effecL She «ekS h^^ k I ^^P'*** beginning (o
roughiy. '^''*' "^"^ *»"» by the arm and fhook hiw
-Awakc,Eric|»ri»ecried; ->wak«>to^.
iy
: £*,. .'
SÊlî*:•AJî»i.f^ç>. ".-''i.jî
...■Si
mi
w
u" V^^,|;''*^ '*y^.'* t"<|^>-^',"i|.JrVy'^y.*'y4^^^i,'-'_,ij-/ W'5"^^
44^
**WHILE IT IVAS VET DAY§
He opened his eyes imn^pdiately and stared iip at her in
sdazed way.
«What's the matter, mother? HÉre you gone mad?
He half rose on his elbow with a look of aêrm.
" Nôver mind Crystal— wake up V'
" I Aovtf woke up. Whaf s the matter with you ? What's
the hour?" Then, Mke* lightning, memory rushéd upon
him ; his face flushed, turned pale. He puUed oui his
watch and looked at the.ttme. A quarter of nine. " Great
Heaven I " he exclaimed, aid fell back among the pillows.
"Ay!" his mother cried, ||i|terly, "look at the hour.
i he tune for the duel is past, is it not ? And the duel haa
been fought, and yôur honor saved. Oh, my heart 1 such
honor. You are safe hère, an4 he lies dying there— for
you. Your ovn brother, Eric— your elder brother I "
He sat and stared at her, thinking she had gone mad.
quite speechless. '
"No," she said, "I hâve not lost giy sensés, though you
look as if you thought it The duel has been fought :
r«riy took your place, and he Ues âying in yonder roonf "
now, for you, and for me, and for Crystal—the friend whom
you struck last niçht— the broïherwhose bi#lbright you hâve
usurped ail your hfe i " » -^
Still he sat speechless— stiU h« was staring at her, not
comprehendmg a Word. ♦ "*♦
M"Oh,youdon't understand— you won't understand, ând
time 18 fljrmg and every moment is predous. I must go to
lum. Eric, rouse yourself 1 try to comprehenè what I am
saying. Teny met Prince Di Venturini this moming, and
wught your duel for ^w. Imadehiml 1 nearly went mad
J^n he came to me last night and told meof Ciystal's acci-
dent first, and of your challenge. I don't know what I said.
I don t know what I did, only I made hiro promise to save
rou, and he has, he has I"
He 1^ beginning to understand now. His face turned
white, his lips set themselvca.
,'^;«-a
t ^2Txh
-x
^G»on," be ^8aid, H»peaki«g for-ihefeir B^
-"î^ i
.^ **? »»^ you an opiate and you slept whUc He went ont
t È'^
M.
^
Ê^-i
i%. ;
:s^
4'
X*^'
>
I
1^
#V -.
450 imr/ts jT WAs ysr a<k«
and met the prince In vout-nli... u • a . "
Eric, y«,r own brolfc " "" ' ""^ '«'» J"™' broftoî
b™;£. ''"""" »""^-. "« you n„d? , fc„.-„„
wha. n,ap„er of maS his f«heX ijle" ' "" **'" ■" "■"=«
Oh, t. asT„-^L*'"l?roUr °"™'' )"" <■«■•«•» son,
I?3Z«r„''X°rn'ri!^-?^-> . And
<(
He fell heavily bâck on W V^scount Dynely I " •^™ .
wantedtogodowntoTUoSf?^^^-^"«"sï- Wheiîhe
Ignorance. I kept^S^ JS' Jh T''' T '^*^''» «« m
Jhoughi he would hav^oSil Ji '•'!, *^ ~*'^ ^<î' K
That wa3 why I wanîed you S ^ci îî^ ^'*""5? ^^^^ own. ^
rester and her fortune But ?. ^ *"* '"*"y ^«"ce For-
tule weaith for Cio.f'^,^^ SJ^e*?' *^^ ^^^-•«^'
ca.n;2!sh"eta?aîrherd S5M-?'l ^ j"" *-^o« W'
niight bave taken from î^i tfcd f?r^ ''^' ^'T **''"• He '
La^t night he came toC bllf ^Jï î°!^ did «OL
3 V
V
iis,.^U^«v*rf4" r'*i ,s«î*f-%-«it...>«' >"Sii» ^'""^^^V'.tj'J!'
S'^
* '
/??
0.1
'h'
451
^'■.
kissed the brutal mark.on his poor face last «nriit Thïj
morning he went out in your.place and met the lîrince and
' j;as shor dDwn as^w would hâve been^ And he lies dyinÊ
„ there ; he wiU be dead before the hourÇnds.'^ ■
i P^ P- * P^'i"" ^^^^ ^'"^ a fierce gesture to stop her.
* n ^rP^^"^ ' "^ ^'^' hoarsely. « Oh, God^j I cannât bear
She obeyed-a rain of tears pouring over her face. He
lay mute-quivénng through ail his strong young frame.
Leave me," he said, m the same hoarse vdice, " I wânt
to be ajone.
She tùrned to go, but on the threshold she stopped.
;; You wiU corne, Eric," she said, «when we'send?"
She went. France stood waiting for her at the door.
Co e " ^°^ ^^" ^*'°' ^f " ^^'^^^S ^^
_She led her into that other rooai. The clerevman's last
PkM^'^ """^Ï'. ^° **^ ^^' ^y^ng among the pillows.
the cold dews of death already stood. She fell down on her
knees by the bed and took the dying head in her'ai
He opened his heavy eyes and smUed— a smile of
content. « Mf/Aer," hft.^^ and lay stiU. -«r
J'w' ""^ '^^"1?' mptérryl" she cried out, "forgive
me before you goi" . ' ,»
famtly. but clearly "You we^q^gsrays good to me. I
loved ypu ail my J,fe, moAer. ^'t cr^-ifs httter .0 ,
linc^« eyes looked wisefully toward the door. BliEhed^
weanlyr " Eric won't corne ?" » "Wg"»»
i«l!fj'**"j^'"*^ She bent downand kiis^ him, and
in that kiss whispered : " I hâve told him ail."
. ^* Ail I " He looked np at her quickly, almost in reprooC '
** That was wrong.'/ . "
"Itwasright. I should hâve told him long aaa Oh
niy boy ! yay own T^rry 1 how good you are." •
He'»mayl--Tenry'8 own amused smae. Theh h.. ^^^,^^1
-*m cy w wéMOrraâ lây atin àgàli.
"1^
-• ^
ili^^C
.«^ '
£^ J.^ArV ^Li.):»
■ < «<.<<l
uu
^M fc«f3
-, ^'' \ ' ' ' ^ mt *• tÊi'
S? 'T* " 'ookinno Th. J î"'"*' •""=" Eric.
4 V
' S!- '^'T» ^''^ookinHo ThîVÎÏ*''^''^*' '^neJt Eric.
D^t^^ eyesopened, anC he l«,kcd up ' ^' ^
Arough h! î'teai/ «^^P "^^"^ ^ " «ï»* coald
i«d ».«f '^'»«P«'ed. and Erib Ufted W. .
* ^'^1 ^''*»«'-"7-*w5fcr," he
.'\
m'
è
•* fFmZE TT WAS YRT DAY.»
\,fis.
fl»t Eric had to lay his ear to his lips to catch the wordà :
*^^ood— to—Crystal." . '
_^ closed them once more, exhausted, and lay still.
Ihere was a sudden, short convulsion of the limbs— tf
passed, and he was quief. So he had lain for fullvBve min-
uteç, hw head resting.a doU weight in Lady ©yneVs aitns.
-A Sharp tenror seized her— she looked helplessly around.
♦* Is hc asieep ? " she piteously asked.
V Hubert Bqvilte came fo^rward and bent over him. He
laid his hand on his heart for a moment, and lîstened for hii
hrçathing. Then he stood up. \ .
^^ " Not MÎeép," hç^said, veiy gcntly ; «* deti"
="%«Jni.ifc
.r-\
\.^
. -s
'V
w
-.^A
/
¥
'■'«^.
-?♦■
.,'©
♦ "^-te
û^
J
^y 'K^f^r:
^-^y '-}■
CHAPTER XIX
"ftOSTTENKBR^ LU*.»
|N Galignanis Messenger^ of n«.»f ^- .1. /
o'clock, a meeting toot 2! ?^J"u™'"«' »* seven
. loghe bètween a certain olnS?. *^ *''*' '"^** ^'^ de Bou.
gpon guards. His excel encv fL ^^ ^'^"*^"*"' «^ <Jra.
combatant by the.Hon H ttZ"^,^^®"*''^^^"^ tbeother
rfuel was fqught with pistoîs 1 1 .^ '" '^'^ case.^fhe
fire proved felàl-the CLman K • ^° ^u^^"'- '^'^^ fi-'sl
regret we announce to «ur read?^]^-"~i; ?? ^''"^ ^^?I^»'
most mysterious death of theSSnïlf^'^""^ sudden >ind
and versatility hâve crowJed 7h!T^ '^^^^^^ ^^^o^^ be^uty
de%htful réceptions for w^c^'^ .'i'*' «*"l°"^°fAhe
famed^nd appeared in her Wetelfent Zlw^^^ J"^">'
She retire^ about midnight, stiH seemS'J'!î'*\^f»d «Pi'^s. ,.
the morning her p,aïd found herSl? ï^^f ? ^^''^"- ''»> «^
of foui Play is at work, and a^s^mni^ ^ îf^ Suspicion:
çover the fckuse of this death^^h êrjîf ïï ""'" P'"*^^^ dis-
lans will deeply regret ^ "»»'<* ail theatfe-going Pans-
1 1 .. H., rl o .. „ f . „ ^^^ j ^;^^ ^-^heo^'b^
\
'*.,/ .^ ^^ .. .hU^*''\
■«ÎM-
' '^'W^ M"**
i ^
-'^W^^^%' 'W-'i%fr^^^^f
• -->
>:?
^Ir
Mack sombre eves anH , >?ÏX r V^,^ ^^'"'^ dan,sel, w th
»uni no, grandmanima— I never m-n» hV^^ u •.
you." 7 r^ Mcvcr grow tired when w^th
" My dear, howr mournful you look thoimh n^
givèn your father Love hi™ r^ "Je unhappmess I hâve
•£, And h. is fappy„t;!!who woomÎ^^T- Ï 8°°" "^
«toma Franc»? And t* think Z^ï ^' ■">??/ »'*
«trMgeitïïSw.' °"°'**''™'«-»»idsl Ho» f
A»-,"«hed
-"What made
â?^^"M i"1 *"e gré ât eyei
Did th^'
^ .aréadfuU Ohlli^nâer^ha^ it was î
Jate; "it w agr
ier die like thatV
tf^nd out ? "
>'^***<lMp^
■Tu
'M
ji.vl'ôEviï \
>
#
'i
■♦'
">
j>?-
^''^
^^.
y1
a.»>
tr*
■ti
is^
^^s ^^m Ê K Ê ^
Lmr,
H *«"■
r was a terrible fate " iii oh ^^^ ''"^*' ^^^- ^oor soûl l it
;^- not tell tSë dLgSer shi was ll^?^" !f ^S ^>'^ "' «hc m
1 byherself, mafd, or whom *^« ^ ' P°»«°°«d-whet|,cr
-in Naples, W^e D? VenZS '"?P'^>°?» «^ ^he truth, but
Fiance looks dow„ at AeV^r Sow S'" -^"u "«"^ords. .
-^ve^ia^Sen"'""^'"^^^^^^ "and
His face clou<Js for a second. "
lace " thiSiS S«f^ ^*° *^^ s™set 1 ghts bis wave
you knawy *^ cnanneL Y/ou alw-ays are sea-sick,
"Yes, I k^ she sm.mbacî^ fo^» „.^,„, . >
grows gr^ve.' -«^Don't Jet us^^^vJ? f^ «oiïfent, Ae»^
|>l^e, rt»y own France."
'^'^^se light is iSidiog from the
,- --^^ many pâfeted Windows of
Qut: ' :->*'*'»« ^o"«»C4tïn the panes, shines
foeure^there^Suneve^^œ H
^ ti> npr dower house Lady Dj^nely.&e eldir. L
»»««ii lo »eç, j-ans naore.
again m this life as ïhavci
**We will ço iÀïétevei ^
xnere is sileqce agail
" SST^*'^*^' Ws/all on4
>^. ™" manor, the motto «
ofl
''é^
-i " ïjaKir'^»'^'»'' " ^ "*^^' * ***^ ' ■ ••' "V*''"''***' «»V'?*«ï'-*'';^'» vÇ^fe*^^^KS
, TV ' '' la - '- . * *ly'^
' . i '/ ■■■' 'S„
' . • ■ - ■•-•,■.••
■ SS ÎTp^'^^.rff' '^ *• ""«^ »"^' ^*
•I.î."i?°" S^ "^ '"""'' f2P *'*»'' love fra-my son sDoiW
adLt^r'iïir!."'™"'' '''*?.«°«l to .dl No one ca»
«couse her of sdashpess now. Her son is a beun- ^,u^
oS^nâ! ^ ï°"^ T?.*" «r*' vault'ofte^yïdys^S
opened, and he yras laid to sleep with them Pennlî-««^
^o^M^^Jiore as they read the inscription XVe Wm!
nW> of plain gray granité, with gold lettering, and"i
^ACRSO Tp THB /ImioAt
,.f TERENCE DENNISON,
f WHo <jaVb his ijra to savb anothkr»s,
rsBRVJotr 29TH, 18—,.
M^^s,^'^^V°^y ^"**' Ciystaî Visc^antew Dynèîv slt»
^e, fair and ;jweet, and youtWW, as this Sie W 1-?
for Teny Dennison to corne and ask her to be £s ÎSS^
Sh » ^°°?. dressed for dinner in the cri^ white mSin
Md bteenbbpns that become her chflS^flSSL S»,
«^which her husband best likes to serSer ^^ And
rfthat husband fencied hodden-pray or sadcâoth Sd ash^
uSJ?. !.?^ ^u? exceptional w.% wnnM ..^^^ hnrc dS
«theiAiiay. She is waiting for him now tocometodS^
listenmg with^ove's in,patif«çefor tbe &st8<?unTonhe fïJ'^
>*
V
w I
t
,^5?'
jW^+.
•i/VJT' TENBBRAt, LOXJ»
step, the first note of the gajr whistlç she knows lo weU. Fof
o^** am ^^ °"*^ "°''*^' ^°°'' ^'y*'*^ *"d Eric is ail her
She,know8thewhoIestoiy. Week» aftel-, vhen strength I
eyes, ntungsidc by «de, h» armaround her, Erichadtold I
ÎÏT^K, ^***^'"f ^^ *»^^° '^•^^'^°' a°d she learned at lait ^
htfw noble was the heart she had refused, the heart stUM 1
, *»«'; husband ^ildiy, an^ strained hirn to hen "™*W>»«
* Ion!" ' shecriedout; « to think it might hâve beén
-,J?Î' "^J^^ t"T" ^*"* ' "^^ *« ^eptJ^s of her soûl «hé
wondered at the brave generosity of hini who was gonc -^ "
her mmost he^rt she bowed down in révérence. She ifeS
^l^\ ^^ r^ *"^ passionate tears-dear, brave, lioble
1 emr 1 her playmate and fnend,— but her first tbought wa«
n?«^w'7/K°i*'^'?.''*''?P°^^ °"« of unutterable/ glaï
ness thàt it had not been he. She qiught her breatt idSi
the horror of it, an.dhwhile her.tears fell îor Terry, slie held
Iittle heart, and cned, again and again : '
bcé'n^'^ /"*^""^' mydarlinglto think it miglit hâve
^ AsEnc never had, neverwpuld, she knew Terry had loved
her. She was grateful to him ; she strewed his coffin with
flowers; she wept her pretty eyes red, again aod again.
^' A i''^^^'^^ morning under the dripping trees of the
BOIS de Boulogne without aprayerof trembling thankfutaea»
that it was he who was taken, and not her beloved. —
^ And Enc is yery good to her, veiy gentle and tendw wiài
her, veiy afiectionate, after the manner of men and hÛsbands.
And she <toes not ask npuch ; she gives so greatly that a smaU
wtum suffices. That smaU return, let roe say, the Rig^
Honorable Lord Viscount Dynely gives wiUingly and fSS
ri^.^yV_f^ CtystalMs happy-^nd the c^in falk f^
■V ( .
TOWr^^^ratyF^^Wg^lÔWmp^rw^^ange ^
^
!t ,JI».,I^ , ^
ell. Fof
ail her ,/ y,
strength ,
im blue i
jadtold i
iatlatt
tstille^ i
MabMafit,
* 1 V'..^
re b^isn
oul$b6
•ne: to
le wept
,-^oble
îht wa#
^glad-
p, with
>e held
istoned
: hâve
[ loved
n with
again,
lought
of the
'ul0e«i
)ands.
sro^m
RigM
froDi
se h»
m-
i^r'^^^
••-'^7' TENEBRM, LC/X» ^
• w
"potr, nor the Êthion hîs skiti ' «o ».-» r t ^ \<f\
•tamp do not change &eirÏÏ;,rr lS.H h ^ -n .?^"'y«^
^waj-«^Teny Dennison^ de^Hace^ould n^ f *° *".**
•jnive to haunt him îf he were «S^Lî- i "** ^""^^ t'^»
*Us li«ht, for in a i^^vi-^n^^^^T^''''}'''^^^^ *<'°' ^t"
of his little wtfe . Sfulir^'J? -f^ T!^^^**'■*^ " fond-
more or essVdmirÏÏSn iïï^;'''? ^ ?<î«l»ty that will include
he meetsTlit frèm^^ or fSS.^°' '""^ pretty womaa
be Derfe^fîv iTo^r»; r'y^^'.or Frarice, or, one of us ail to
^XW^'^tZ'l'^^'^' ^""^ bomof'wotaï
that ever wS £e hl^t ^ ** happiness tbat is hers, aU
! -
1 -*• .
m
:. A
*«.»_ ^ _ij*,(»--*
aï 5i-^
IH
4",
^
kàfef-;-
■l^-.
1878.
1878.
i
\
♦ » ■
NEW BOOkSi
AND NEW EDITIONS,
n TTT «BCKNTLY ISSUED BY
t*^ W. Cakleton & Co, Publishers
t^v- ■< ^^*^° ^^ar«. A^ York. ' w
^W book.i„ diU lis. (unless o.he.wis^rc'br ^ ^"^ '"''"'^''''^^^^^
n?"'^. '.•,«o"'^-J„.Tf-k-
•*'<»
A , "«"aow Brdok
■^IDora Deane..
Coujsin Maude.
Jtarian Gre\. .
tdithLyie.. ...
Afon« .*■ _
Hidden Rath'.'.'.".'
Mo8s Si4é .
Nemcsia.,.'
MIriwn;.;;. '■•■
AtJU,t:.,,. • ■•
felen QardncftV.-.
n» M Steel. ^
•est and Snn.hin"*^ ^\,
•h Orphans.. , *' 5°
teead«on the Hill.idè ! ! ! .' ' J ,"
Rivera. .•.•. .. 5°
w Brdok...,*' • ' /°
(New).
So
> 5o
» so
• so
Darkness and Daylièht
Hugh WorthingtonrJ-
Cameron Pride *'
Rose Mather..
Edna BrWniidP
WestLawn /^ •' .50
Martoa Harlanrs Woi-wr » i°
»' 5° Tg^n'ybîîik"'^'-
'. •• • 50 Ruby. Hu.band.
•JPheinJ.'a Temptat on ■
The Empty Heart
> so
I 50
I 50
•» «0
. iV
• » So
I 50
> SO
SO
W
^'-'l^'Tr ^^t" ■*
f ^s' ■ ■
i!*.
G. ^ CAKLETOI/ &* CO.' S PUBLICATIONS.
A Terrible Sacret , „ A Mad Marriage
rffi?' îJ^S^'^^fv.- •: : » 75 OneNighfslîryatery..
•rient aad True- (New)
•» 75
Nighf 8 nfyatery. ! ! ! ! " ! '. ! '. i î «
Kate Danton....... , ]\
r ./T.. s .. ?)^' Miohélet's Works.
Lov. (L'Aniour)-Tran5Î^on^...», g I Wom.n(LaFemme)-THu.sUtion«i 50
Kutledee ,„ The Sutherlands 4, «,
St. Philip'a *; 1^
Round Hearts, for Chlldren .... ! i eo
A Perfect Adonia-4(New) i |o
Novell.
ag«. .
Wa
I 50
Frank Warrington i 50
Louie's Last Term, etc 150
Richard Vandermarck i 50
Dr. .Antonio— By Ruffini **Ji^?
Widow Goldsmith'i lîlS^er^i, Smift's
ChrisandOtho val
Ten Old Maids ...."" 17I
His Young Wife— (New) i 75
Les Miserables^In English «a 5<f
CaptAin
The Scalp Hunters .'... fli .;o
•^he Rifle Rangera i eo
\eWarTraiI... i L
Wood Rangea i , 50
e Wild Huntress 1 50
Complète Comic Writinga— With "^"*
Béatrice Cenci—ByGuerrazri...; gi u
Mii'«„Novel«. • ^
ThèWidower A, „
The Married Belle ^ ,„
Courting and Farming .....jt 7I
Hngo. -"^
Le» Misérables— In Spanish. ««00
Mayne Reid.
The WhiteChief..... «i m
The Tiger Hanter i ^
The Hunter'k Feast , \o
Wild Life . \ ^
Osceola, the $eminole
Ward..
fa 00
i.50
iography, Portrait< and 50 Illustrations
True to the Lant ^' ®' *^P'* Select Storiefe.
ThëVt^pS-îSlcioud:::::::--.*;^: ^..^°."?.îr°?»'.A'î"_«' •«
How Couid He Heit It ? i 50
Child's History of Ertgland-cfrfetSfs Neîr"^&/ Edition." Illustrated . «i
Paper Covers, 60 Ceftta-Cloth,'< •l.OO.
So
l've Been Thinking ' lœ
To Love and to be Loved 1 |o
"5
Tom's Wife— By G. D. Tallman
That Comic Primer— By Frank Bellew.
ThatAwful Boy
That Bridget of Ours
Dur Artist In Cuba, etc. G. W. Carleton.
Why Wife and I Quarreled
Solomon Isaacs— By B. L. Faijeon....
That Morrid Qirl
Me— Jutjr and Augiist. By Mrs. S. C. Coé.
Heand I— Sarah B. Stebbin»
Annals of a Baby— do
That Charming Eveniug-Beilèw.'....
Mr.. A. P. Hiir. New aSS?ïirn^Sle%^??ï anf ^^S^stic réceiptZ ..'.... t, 00
î£: 5?^"%*" °'""' 8ofe*î?e*»n?1^5fi ofrsfe'ÎTd çood manne.
The Art of ConKeriation-/or those who wish to be agrceable talkers. .
The Arts of WntJng^Reading, and Speaking-For self improvement
New Di^ond Editî|,-Smairsize, elegaritly bSund, 3 vol.Xs in a bw i^_
Crleton's New H^lî^k^*F.IÎ&??u^tioS"?Mî;'ï'u.horship fTs»
l^:^\^^r'^^^*i^^^^^ •• 00
ArmWanNights-DemorainelUui.. i 00 | Swisa Family Robinson-Marceli oq
Tnimp Ca>ds-Hlu»tr«ted «5 | Farmer'e Almlniut-Illu»trâted .... 7$
m
E
1
T
L
O
A
M
St
A
P<
Oi
Tl;
Je.
'Ail
Ai
An
Mo
Ho
Tvi
Le<
Plii
y^m
i«f*
^?''
» J •
" W n'^'^'
••t 0!>y^'jii- f'- -r ir', r 1 , -^1
....»!
75
I
75
.. .. I
75
. .. . I
75
tionfi
5°
♦i So
• I SO
. I so
. I so
. .(a oo
• ••i 50
.. 1 so
.. I 50
■•»'
G. IV. CARLETON &- CO.^ S PUBLICATIONS.
cloth.
••' 75
.Ji so
T^rownoatheWor;/'!':.^'*?5^?,!SChf,^'"- "
Pettless Cathleen '. !° tIh. t "" .81 so
Curse of EverleiBh. " " îf" ! î'ï.S""!^'" P«P*rt »
Love Works Wonderi." (ïnpres'sj î ^ j "' *" Atonement. (New) . |^
Con.t,n<... Pâte ; or J|nz^*i^F^-pÇ f |er„- to Noon
Sert» A u ,'**^' *^<»«»eroy' ("Briok.")
GSfcr5)u^t.'*"°ï>?°"'' ^\ % I Sr^rf'-. (^--boolc) <>. 3„
Stolen water.. (I„ vSfe?». . .^^^ «^^tet*» ''»'^- '
BroJcen Dreams. Do. .. i co Rich m^W , ,. #150
Terrace Ro.e.. (New). . .ï. Z. .V. \ % \ f'^o1L\^Z'^\;L^^ '"'^" '^
The Life of Jésus .frâ*,sl5fd"tf>. ^'htHS^ JÇ<»'J»' "°
A New Book "*'"" Maguires and Détectives, a 50
One Fair Woman (Prose) ^"*^ MUler. ,
TheCu.pHtF,y-Thewen.^.,^S^oo!K^-„,.,,„„^^^ ,_
journey fron. New York to«?pS:S^3^s?iV i.I,.s,rW. - ., „„
AllforHer. (A oovel) ^Ti^^^r», . '"
^ « ," •' so I AU for Hlm. (A novel) ti «o
AHomeTreasuryof Biography^Poetry, Hi.t^e*^ I„ust«ted f. «,
AiMrther»«*n«wi* /'«»• Wlddemer Hartt. '^
AoWher lUn s Wrfe-A «ew story of everyday Hfc and character. ..... .î t. w
Mortfjn, Otories-For chiidrtn ; by ,h. author of " LitUe Women," eic g, ^
Ho«.ek,nH«f In Old Virginl—A new souAem coot^tT^k . / S. „
TWO Boand Volumes-By Frank Moore. wîA » ^"^h. jL^,. ,
Ij«d Astrav— By Octave Feufllet. . 7, 1 Warwick_Sl m t ^- . .
Pufpl« «né Fine Linea-Fawceu 73 I ^rt^dS^Z^^'^-'^?^-- "
batWtan Point..
75
., #;■
**.
i(«^'^
%
".^iB
Jv'''(>^.'' '
■■. •«'■* ' - p
'. '.
j^B
** (i'
Éàà'^
Ik^b'
'
' '^'- s.
% r^
■ -^-^j^ .•>■
~ »H»>{*1
~^^2^^££^S^^J^s7^^
A H.^e«t of Wild Oats"?'^**^?*??" Work..
MillyJDarrell-AiJoiif K~A-^°.7'' ^X Horence Marryatt
" "y wue and i Qua
True Love Rewarded
Threading My Way-^li;- Anfnll^^? the author "fnTe to the Last " - ^ °°
LkJtts and Shadowa of 4.,i,?. . • ^ O"'™ ' S"
QlTmp.e8ofthrSu^:rMf,fri^?t^^^^ I'- Home. . .V.V -.V " " » «>
Lion Jack-A New IWat^ M7n,t '^ Records, and Traditions. ' ~
West India PicH.o_? ■ ^^''^g^'^'e Book for Bovs — P tt »! ' °o
Q. A.C?X" TrWCoïrtfn"^^^^^^^^ Yacht Œ4. by W P T^ul, ' 5°
Lau. Veneris" STher Poem^*'l^^r*"-N<=w York t^ San Frl& " " " '5°
I 50
I 50
IZJf
gœ^^^l^K-ar •■'•■•• •^°
Hilt M irflt. , ™ '-g**" 15"
Out of tKe Fiam. Do ' ^o
Hammejr and Radier Do.'.' .' ' ' '
g;^r,yick_By»r-rtVai;.orth
Hotapur. nn'" ' ••• ' 7-
; l^ ca^? ?" py«^ - ^"^ \T ,
Parodies and Poema Md Mv V-7^*^ -«'gonion Charles Swinburrie" ■'"'
Mother Qooae Mélodies sXto M^ÎZ "^-"P'"" "op^ins. lUustratet^ " "^
>cques offenbach-8 ExpIriencM inl^^^ ' î S
Our'^Clfilî?*'^" »*°°«y^»n5 hSw'o Kelo It "S"^?*'"''»' Paris edit^oA":- «
New Nonsense RhVmM_H„ w « ?f ^î°"" ^^sed upon the Oi^Va Plnrt " ' ' ' °°
Progressive PettiS^Â Satlî^ni/v"^'''"'^*"'' "'•'stn.tions b^c G B.UlV ' ^°
Souyenifs of Trayel-By Madlm^rw^'^"^,^"**" «• «oosevelî *"'• ' "
RWaïïr'iSRïL?;' ^'^--^ô;\tr^Til'o^ (papc?S,vers):::;
«.^.b„ry S-ches-Pi^^-a^H^,^^,...^^^^
8efn*ir^d^ô:ii,'°jr^- ^«="'-'«--,- ' t
.hÏÏÎ^h' "*y K'nK-S. A. Brock..
fa.*î!L^^?^^'°«c,e...
Undercurrents pf Wall St " n^
Rptnanceof 8tJd«tLlf.*- .' g";
Life in San Do^tngo. '. '. '. S^"
Henrr P«jWers, BiSker. dÔ"
A Book about Doetors ''
'"■■"^«'-By G iierra '
^»yai «into Dtath ,,....''
U c asia WUm|rt oni-W es t;:ott;
/ V
- * - t^^
fl
' * • *
, *•
'
* '■ r '
■- »>
■ y^ . '■
rf
ci ' . il
l"- ".1
J^ '>w-% \ « ^>.
T n/ "^ • *Mf^ 'ii f
'* " » Vf ■'/^sS-*"**'''?''''^'!^'^ •f-'"'**
U-*^
«it-
»S
1 JH
' > '.■ .' '
» 75
à
.♦•
CHAI^LES DICKENS' WORKS.
A «îe«r Edition. a
of the volumes are unhandy-K>r t1^ IZl " '^"T ^"** limensfcm,
«r, the Ulustrations are unidS^to^ t^ f""""/"*^ i|distinct-.
the price « too hi;,.h. """^'^"«'o'T-or. the dmding is poor-«r,
«4ct. «>a.pl«e.,«,tlr;^^^^^^^^
««irlefn'r ^^^ iii„«trated Edition.»
/^ COMPLETE IN 15 Volumes
«tirelySir^/SïdeaS 0-^!'"' '°' \oldi„g,_ the type i»
PiSSs'lSS:„ï^^;^-ig.artqchpse„tch^^
#ttractivé^md substant^ cffier"^ "^ '"'^ ''^'*^ "« «f «
pnce 01 f 1.50 per volume, as follows :— .
I— PIÇKWÏCK PAPERS AND CKTAlhcuJt
^IW—WTtLfe OORRIT.
"•— MARTIN ÇHUZZLEWIT ", •
la.— OUR.MUTUAL FRIBfiD.
^ .5.-0»^,.* i»<^^î™ ri'^-,^ :
;V. '
ÎIJ
*■'/
1^
\ #
V5F*^
^^' 'f?*'r^^»*fyv^lr,#^
l^^ii
' ♦•"• a,-
n
r
Maiy J. Holmes* Works.
I.!,-:
-TiEMVKST AND SUNSHINE,
i -ENOLISH ORPHANS.
» • I^OMESTEAD ON HII.I.SIDK
I -'ÏIKNA RIVERS.
! MEADOW imoOK
l-DbRA DEANR.
/.-COUSIN MAirOK. '
'6 -WEST LAWN.
— MARIAN GiUY.
•DARKNESS ANi^DAVLIOm
le —H UGH WORTHjDrOTON.
n— CAMKRON PRt*ÏE.
la.-ROSE MATHER.
iV-ETHELVN'S MISTARR
M.-MFLLBANK.
1^15-— BDNA BkOMTNING
17— EDITH LY1,E.
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
m™. HoUm M„r.e» ,rî univ«,all^ rcat». H" ^..l.n.rer» are n.jmr*HiM»
!!."J1." ™.""T-,'**'^" *"'''"" =* "^»' '" ""= *°''*1 °^ fi<^rion. Her ch«,ct«.
»« ahray. I.fc-ia<e. and she mnke» them Ullc and aci likc Kuman heing.. „,b»c|
lo die .amr «„«.«.,, .w.ye,! by U« «une p.»«on». ard achiated by tb« t»m*
"•^"«s whk..1 ara «Runon amoiig raen and womca of every day exiitcncr Mrt
nolmt» u ver, haçpy in portrayintt domeMic life. Old and young penj«i h«
v;:V:Î C*,''"""- "" •" "^"^ "^ " ^'^'^ '^-^ »= can'^.np^hll'!:
r Mr.. Hol^M »torw, a« ail of a domes.lc character, and their m^mt.
iST;." T tl'T" " •■' ""'^ *^ ""« •"«•"" «"»»"«' wiU, «n«.ion.»
PMbtehsr m^t choo.. « «nnounc from hcr pen would ge, an immedia,c and
P»«al nSdmK. The ,nter,« b her de. begin, at oncç, «,d « nuùnwined io
ZllTi. "''"""•"«»"» •« •» «"«"d. bei^-mpathie. so warm and r«Ml,,
«J W knowledge of n.anne«. character. a.«* Ae varied inddenu of cdinai
2^» Aorough. ,ha. J.e ,„uU «»d it d.«cul. .o ,r.w «., othcr ,ha7«
««wlleM tUe if ihe were to try iL'—SMÈ^m Bamntr
«Mr^Hdn». t. ^ ,^„tmf, W . ,i*fc .ml «rue ««, ci hi«or a
«ympaihelK tona, a percepti» oT dmcM; aHl a
plmiaatfv adaptei) to the
Mtviçan reiulen far ^bam
1uraJ'~Hi
'kmg T.
txtaakuz Myk,
■•d idoU fiuitaaira km* m
•èJ'S .. f • "'^■• " •' - ■ ■ ■ ■ ■■ i I
, Wr Tha MhuM* ar, ab handagm^ pitand Ué' ^mh m ~^'- rnlit
. .««vririiar., nd «nt by mail. >•»««» >»5f , M Modptal iM» I|t^ ai«4j, |,
•sàr.
\-
•■ni
■î»-! '
ii.i.ivi>,^ooks^of^8octï:ty.
• '•— The ^rt of conversation
, Aw«gtha contenta wiU be foMTch»ptew ^n- *^ °°** *•* ^^"^ «M»
^™moN 1» Convematiou.-Satim.-
«^TOt^NDlVO.-^EoOTI8M.J5ou?^SS^
— OTABDro,— DlSAOaKKABUt SUBJKOIsi—
fwJ^V *"'' ^"' Cdbb.-Modmtt...
—MWOEIXANHODb KN0WMD01.--LAK-
MM agreeable. The whole tatow^rS^fh T'^ «"«wer», and tho art of makingr Me- •'
mente, remark» on lashion, etrvrPri« «1 iS^T"* ilL.HtrationR of K>cial prldlcT
captera npon- ^ "' • ""«*- »l-60. Among the contenta wiU be towd ^
Captera npon—
LadM»' PBWrA01t._*A8BI0H8.
THonoHjre on Sooibtt
GooD Socistt.-Bad Sooutt.
Thb Dresbino Room.
Thb Ladies' ïou*r dbeb.
FEICWINE AcCOMPWSHMENm
Mannkbs and Habits
^ratio AND Pbivati Ehoubim
MABBnCD AND UNMA^BI.D^tS..
OA^NO^„^%OJS?'-"-
-» »• ■
Imdies AT'DINNÏB.
DtNNEB Habits.— CÂbvwo.
Mannebs AT SnppïB.— Bah*.
MOBNINQ rABTIES.— PlONIOr.
, BVENINO PaBTIES.— DaKOBI
Phitatk Thbatbicam.
RlICKMI0N8._EKaAGEM«NTfc
MaRRIAOE CERKMONim.
INVITATIONB.— I^BKBHKa
Bhidkbmaids. — Pbesents.
TBAVEi/ho Etiquette.
Piiwjtc Promenade.
OooMTBT ViMxs.— cnr* VjMnu.
:t
r
W2^J? A*;"**^ A»l>CONHTBrCnON.-
WHAÏ TO Atoid.— Lettkb WEmwn
PBONWNOUmON _ BXPBE.HO» J^SnE -
^UJ»M--l*AltATIO RKADnia8.'-0iA.
fO" Ai^ 8wuKiNo.^(rHAT TO Bat-
• • _». -wi iu OA»— HOW TO BKOIN —
Up»T.— AOMON OSATOBTtnr THB Pm
«■« r. a«l h>nd«.m>ly boanTto ^to, î^i^JJ^f S ,^ 7'"°"*' "'*^"r l*rft»«.rttli
'^iKÏÏÎSJ^^ ""*"^"'^P'^^- ««-nd and -ent ^7^ p^^^ ,^
g. W. CABLETON & CO., PntUshers, New Yprk.
:i
i ^^4&h^^ i
.^f^-i
?*■.
. •'/■
:»^--^^
ai-
tl
•Vl
H
•.
S
yu ,
FOPULAH ^ NE^ BOOES.
r *>^EW rOBK WEEKLT*'*8EB1E8.
Messrs. Street'* Smith, publlskers of The Few tork Weekly, havinff
boea"^ reauested by their readers to issue their best and most popular
Stories in Book Form. hâve consented, and hâve n«w made arrange-
ments for snoh publications with tl^ weU-known New York House'of
Q.. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers.
The intention Is k> issue in. Book Form such Novels, Stories, Juvenil»
Works. Humorous Writings. etc.. as haye run through the columns of
The Neu) Tirrh Weekly. and hâve provèd to b€f the most popula*. and most
lasting in interest' Thus the millions of New Tork Weekly readers,
scattered over the oountry. who ^have been partiônlarly pleaaed^ond de-
lighted wlth certain stories in thô Paper, and wlio would like to hâve
them in Book Form for préservation and lor re-reading. will now hâve
this opportunity to buy. from time to time.suoh Works, and so gradually
form a beautiful
lilBRAEY OF CHOICE BOOKS,
>ft-.
s
/
tho yery cream of the contributions to The NewTork Weekiy.
The volumea abready vuUished are as foUows.—
Thewn on the World.— A Novel by Bebtha M. Cij^
Pèerles* 0«tlila«fc-A Novel by Coba Agnbw. ^ y
Faithflll Wfcrgaret.— A Novel by Ani^Ashmobb. I
Nick Whifflf». -A Novel by Db. J. H. B&binpon. t
Lady loonota.— A Novel by Cabbib Conkijn.
Charitr Chrtodor Papor% -A Humorous Work. •
A Bitter Atonemeat.— A Novel by Bbbtha M. Ghkx.
Cnr«e of Evérleirt -A Novel by EUiBH Cobwin Pisbob.
Lo*« Works WI»A«r*.-A Novel by Caboums Babton.
\-
A
V
<;
\^:^i
«- Thèse bocks are fcandsomely printed and elegantly boand lu
oloth, with gold back stamps. prico, $1.80 each. „ ^ %-
Sold by Booksollorrfeverywhere-and sent y mail, pomagt JïWfc
an wfletpt of prit», li.BiU>y^
Ul
^.% OAELETO» ft 00., TvX^a^ Itoâlwn Sfom, Vww Twfc.
^fe#l
'Â'' ^
■ jeu:*"'
c
IS.
Mv, havliig
ost popular
de arrange-
rk HoTise-oI
sliers.
les.Javenil»
columna ot
.a^.andiuost
îfcll/ readers.
ased and de-
like "to bave
ill now havo
BO trradaally
Fee/ctv.
r
y"-\
PlSBOE.
MON.
Ltlr boond in
^
,9oéLamtrm.
'
\ Hffir Toik.
: _ ■ 1
-»■ "
^^
>.
%-
-- ' *„
\i
>d«UV^ Jt J <^fi|
j>>\
A/
^J'
i
^ /
'
j
f
,
^ /
-
.,
Lt
\
-
»
-•
•
t
te::^ifcr" -«-y:;:
' i^-i.=^'' v^A
» »
W- .