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Entered aixording to Act of I'atiiamcnt of ('tinadi- . l\i J- TUco h'ohinson, in the offire ()/ the M nintvr of Agrictdture, in tltv ijcir IfiiiO. :^/^^.^^_. // '^c^/y^:^ /-^ DEDICATION. Brave sons, fair daugliters of "La nouvelle France," in whose veins Jlovvfi tlie blood of tlie virgin of Dtinreniy, on whose hearl- altar.s burns a vestal-tlanie of faith in God, anil home and coun- try ; toward yoM, fair children of a sunbriglit clitnp, History looks eager-eyed — longing to inscribe on her tablet the name ot your first-born hero, that wracting himself troin the tramniels ot jiartizanship, (voicing the secret hope of every patriot) ahall (/arc take the tirst step in .'eading you toward your "munift.-t destiny" yf beconnng o/te with the great Republic whose doors vtand open to receive you ! To A/7W, the great "unknown" — the Washington of the North, to wliom triumphant salvos already echo, li»om the Arctic circle to its antipodwr— an hun)lil^ writer presumes to dedicate the story of LOOKING FORWARD. PRINTED BY J. THEO. ROBINSON. MONTREAL. Looking Forward. L INTIIODUCTION. :|7 I-.' < if ST. REGIS COMFORTED. WHAT an outpouring of patriotic sentiment there was in 187G ! Every vestige of bitter feeling engendered by the civil strife of a few years previous, had disappeared ! Every obscure hamlet, from the Green IMountains of Vermont — to the ]Uue Eidges of Georgia, contributed its quota of revolutionary relics ! Wherever our starry banner Hoated, wherever an American heart throbbed, one idea predominated — how to fittingly honor our Centennial Birthday. As though the civilized world participated in the general rejoicing of freedom's triumph — from far over the sea, from the uttermost parts of the earth, to our sister Kepublic, genial France, came tidings of coming gifts ! The land which gave us Lafayette (though possessing a most eloquent tongue, finding its musical numbers inadequate to express her admiration) perpe- tuated her sentiments in everduring bronze. — "Libert^'' enlightening the World," stands with torch uplifted, her immemorial tribute ■" i € LOOKING FORWARD. Even staid old " mother England " looked on, with not unfriendly eyes I Prophets were not lacking who said that in her "elder daughter's" triumphs, she saw the destiny of her younger born — saw fair Canada, also enwrapped in the folds of our star-dotted Hag. Whether it was the reilex of this convulsive wave of pratriotism, when fever-heated pulses cooled, and people supersensitively began to fear excessive allusion to "old 76," had reopened a wound in Albions' side, and yearningly they soughc to staunch it; whether believing nothing more subservient to that purpose could be found than using "imitation," (the sincerest flattery) of all things English as a healing balm — or wiiat not, certain is it, about this time there appeared upon our social horizon, a band of pre-asthetic souls (since dubbed " anglo-maniacs") whose one aim seemed " imitation " of all things English, in manners, dress and speech ! This curious "set" of mental invalids were numerously represented among the congregation of church 8t, liegis, upper .5th Avenue, N. Y. City, where consternation very dire reigned about this date. Its erudite, its dearly beloved pastor, (as anglified a shepherd, as the most anglified sheep of Iiis fold could have desired) had just succumbed to a very plebeian malady ! Death (grim leveller of ranks and races that he is) had utterly ignored his reverence's protest at bein;^ "taken off at such short notice by a disease common to the humblest Yankee delver in Manhattan's ditches — and " malaria " had lain him low ! The shepherdless flock refused to be comforted, until their bishop announced his appointment to the vacant LOOKING FORWARD. pulpit, of one, who though unknown to fame, came from over the sea, and to many otlier desirable qualities added the charm of the good Enghsh name of '* Charles Egberte Wyndhame." " What's in a name ? " hath oft been pertinently en- (juired ; the answer (quickly coming, that "as a rule, there's nothing in it, the rose by any other name would smell as sweet," etc., etc. Possibly, the exception in the Eev. Charles' case, was the one thing needful to prove the " rule " for examination of the bishop's list of eligible Brownes, Smiths, Spauldings" and others, revealed their owners to be men equal in digiuty, piety, and learning to the fortunate ])ossessor of a more distinguished cog- nomen. A Hutter of satisfaction tln*illud the hearts of the congregation of " elegantes " at St. Kegis when the mighty announcement was made ; nods and smiles of approval being in order throughout the vast edifice. When the bishop delicately insinuated " their coming pastor was said to be a representative of a long line of blue blooded Wyndhames whose ancestors' names graced the pei!rage," delight reached its climax. The billionare Von Moeslireuhm who, gowned with costly simjilicity, in defiance of the vulgarity of outward display, occupieii pew No. 1, witli magnamity prepared to receive the pastor open armed. Half a generation had elapsed since Von Moeshreuhm premier, sold tlie first tallow-dip of his world-famous candle-factory! Nothing savouring of "trade" had ol'fended the tip-tilted noses of succeeding Von Moeshreuhms for many a year ! Imbued with a sense of the eternal fitness of things, little wonder they pre- 8 LOOKING FORWARD. pared to indulge sentiments of fellow-feeling toward the coming prelate ! Opposite the pew of these distinguish- ed worshippers, sat the Haufflcnraiiurs, autocrats of a social realm, whose "passport" was "Knickerbocker ancestry." Although a bit grudgingly (not the less valued therefor) the severe outlines of their faces seem- ed to relax into something approaching a smile of satis- faction, betraying to the Bishop their share in iihe gen- eral approval of his announcement. Thus from the shining, to the lesser lights — even on the cherubic face of the sexton (who rubbed his fat palms together good-naturedly) joy reigned supreme ! All was peace and content at St. Regis ! LOOKING FORWARD. CHAPTEK I. Far away in the quiet little village of Lynwood, N. J nestled a village rectory. Clustering honeysuckle and wisteria vines climbed to its red roof, swinging their royal purple and scarlet censers over the gable windows ! In undisputed possession, noisj broods of song-birds hung their swaying nests iv the peach-^ree branches for many a year. So near tuo overhauling eaves had the feathered tenants made their buncos, a rash hand out- stretched from the second 3tory window could create sad devastation among them ! A young moon swung her bright crescent over the gray-mantled hills, which shadowed. Lynwoods' miniature river, and the Howor-dotted lawn of the rectory glis- tened with falling devv in the moonlight ! Through the "study" window a soft light shone through interlocking vine-branches, revealing a snowy- haired man (past the meridian of life) seated in a large arm-cliair ; lines of care and thought, (if not sorrow) had already begun to seam his classical features. As he sat there, his hand rested lovingly upon the fair head of a young girl, the grace of whose attitude at his feet could scarcely be conveyed by the word "reclined" ! Her great masses of unconfined blonde hair rippled like an asher hued stream over the old mans' knee and seemed to have stolen and imprisoned within their 10 LOOKING FORWARD !l I: silken meshes, the weird beauty of the sixmmer moon- beams. As the girl turned toward the rosy lamplight which stole througli the window, and its rays played full upon her, they revealed a face of such peculiar coloring — such contradiction in line and expression, its unusualness, if not its beauty, were sufficient to for- ever impress it upon the mind of the beholder ! Cheeks, whose satin roses were dark and rich as though they had come to blossom under tropical skies, — mouth of mimosa-like sensitiveness ; lips, seemingly aquiver at every changing thought Hashing through the restless mind of its owner — dainty in profile as Thumann's " Psyche at the couch of Cupid." An upward, startled glance of the long narrow gray-brown eyes, from under their sweep of jet lashes — and the "gentleness" of every lineament vanished ! In their stead, there rose a vision of smouldering ashes, ready, eager to burst into all-con- suming Harae — of an unleashed grey-hound ! In the suggestion of suppressed force which lingered inexpressibly in every look and pose of the fjirl, one recognised promise of a woman who could know no "middle ground"; a woman to be adored — or hated ! Of such infinite "intensity" she would stand appalled at the mystery of "herse^i" — one to scale the loftiest heights of love and virtue — or sink into the lowest depths of woe, perhaps, (if wrongly used) of crime ' "Which shall it be, which shall it be ?" prayerfully ({ueried the pastor in his soul, tliat early summer evening, as he fondly stroked the soft waves of the girl's hair. Suddenly the casement behind the idlers opened, a sharp, angular face appeared, whose owner querulously LOOKING FORWARD. 11 demanded "whether they did not know what a treacher- ous thing the night air was ?" "Well, well mother," came the gentle reply, "Thoa art really troubled about many things." "I should think I would be, when you never trouble yourself about them ! you and the child will both be sick when packing time conies, it will just be my luck to have you both ill on my hands ! ". "Oh, we shall be all right, never fear, don't mistrust I'rovidence so, mother ! indulge us both out here please, this last time ! " The plea for "indulgence" was lost, as Mrs. Wyndhame disappeared from the casement, muttering something about " for ever indulijini^ that girl.'' Gently upliftiu;j; the young face nestling beside him at Ills knee, Mr. Wyndhame said : "Does my little girl realize that these fields and glens will Gclio t(» her footsteps, perhaps never after Saturday <• " Oh yes father ! indeed, indeed I do ! but ih> you want to go ? " "One must 'want' to go wherever duty calls my child. ! If choice were left me though, I would prefer to pass the remnant of my days in such a scene as this," said ^Ir. Wyndhame, sighing as he glanced over his shoulder at the moonlit hills, while lines grew thick and deep on his broad forehead. Noticing his half-pained expression, the f'liild passed her hand tenderly over the timeworn features and wonderingly asked, "Is it so dreadful then to grow old father ? Does it make one sad to live a very long time ?" 12 LOOKING FORWARD. "What an odd question ! why no, dear, I was not thinking of the question of age. What strange thoughts you have ! I suppose you would always like to be young and gay as you are now, would'nt you little one ? " " No ! no ! I want to see all of life, I want to know M that it is, as I go along ! so you know father, I must grow old to do that. I'd like to be old tou, you see, but after being young of course ! " " Poor little one ! we come to age soon enough ! Live so as not to have cause for regretting these flying moments, as jewels scattered from the treasure-house of the years, that is all dear ! " "Oh! look father !" interrupted the girl. "Do look at the river ! it never shone like that before ! Is it because we soon must ]eave it, that it looks so silver bright ? " "Perhaps it is child ! it may be the charm of blessings brightening as they take their llight, that beautifies it so ! You know tliat long ago the 'wise man' said ' the lad of a thing is better than the beginning thereof,' surely he knew whereof he spoke ! Thank God that it is so ! To me, whose years are rounding out to completion, it is the ghimonr of an eternal farewell, that glorifies and sanctifies this scene ! Come child, mother was right after all, the night air is treacherous, come in !" The loiterers entered the house. "Evening prayer" was soon over, lights were extinguished, peace and quiet (like a benediction) hovered over the little white rectory, only the occasional baying of the great house-dog breaking the solemn stillness of the summer night. LOOKING FORWARD. 13 Only a few days previous to the evening which intro- duces us to the occupants of the rectory, Mr. Wynd- hame had received his appointment to St. Regis, N. Y. City. And the appointment brought him more surprise, than pleasure. Long residence among, and ministracion to his congregation at Christ Church, Lynwood, had en- deared every trifling detail of his daily life among them. More bent to "raise the wretched, than to rise" his Iium- ble heart desired no greater boon than to have passed his declining years among them — where he had laughed with those who rejoiced, wept with those who mourned > where every twig on every tree ; every l)lade of grass that sprung to life on the pathway of his daily min- istrations had its lesson, its hallowed place in his heart. " Not My will, but Thine be done, O Lord." he mur- mured, " Wherever there are needed more laborers in Thy Vineyard, send Thy servant ! The harvest truly is plen- teous ! Help and bless my humble efforts" had been the first words which sprung to Mr. Wyndhame's lips, on reading the announcement of the approaching change in his life. Twelve years before our story opens, one winter night, weary with vigils at the bedside of a dying woman of unknown identity, (further than rumors among the inn-people with whom she stopped, that she had been a "Spanish actress") Mr. Wyudhame returned home l)earing in his arms the little waif who had developed into the maiden who sat at his feet this summer evening, undoubtingly calling him "father." Among a few tattered relics of theatrical finery dis- covered in a hand-valise of foreign make, (the woman's «M 14 LOOKING FORWARD. sole possession) was found a ring, on which was inscribed "Garcya" and, fancying the inscription had been the unfortunate mother's name, Mr. Wyndhame had so called her child. The mystery enshrouding her birth, and her parent's untimely death, remained to the outside world as great an enigma, alter all these ^ ears, as it had been the night she had first been placed in Mrs. Wyndhame's arms, by the faithful minister. As years flew by, the little prattler at the rectory entwined herself more nearly and dearly round the good pastor's heart, her gradually developing spiritual nature, her love of all things ideal, her bright imagination, warm affections, and changeful moods, finding ever re- sponsive echo there. To the foster-mother (of duller mould of character) however, the holy and delicate texture of the bond of sympathy which bound the two, was an incomprehen- sible tie, often subject of unpleasant controversy in the minister's household. Saturday, the day of departure, with its attendant desecration of the altars of the minister's Lares and Penates at Lynwood, came and departed. Monday evening found the new pastor of St. Regis partially installed in a home befitting the august position henceforward he was to fill in N". Y. City. "Noblesse oblige" was never better illustrated. Echo- less carpetings, richly panelled walls, rarest rugs from Persian looms, choice engravings, costly bits of bric-a- brac enshrined in antique cabinets; a "study" seen through a vista of long drawing rooms, where oriental LOOKING FORWARD. 15 cribed n the ad so arent's great night ms, by rectory le good nature, ination^ iver re- aracter) bond of prehen- y in the tendant res and ^t. Kegis position 1. Echo- igs from f bric-a- ly" seen oriental portieres gracefully pushed aside, revealed carven book- cases so replete with volumes long wished for by the pastor, that his dim eyes glistened with suspicious moisture, as he recognized their emblazoned titles. Obsequious servants "shod with silence" stood in constant attendance, adding a finishing touch, had one been needed, to complete the elegance of the pastoral surroundings in St. Eegis rectory. Mrs. Wyndham* was at no loss to accommodate her- self to her new home. A keen observer of manners and people, gifted with tact, and an air of self-sufficiency that savoured enough of arrogance to pass current acceptably as "hauteur," added to an unlimited supply of the self-assurance that so often usurps the place of merit, it was not long before she established herself quite an "authority" in her new social surroundings. If the revelaticn of an unlooked for humility of cliar- acter and bearing, on Mr. Wyndhame's part, proved of- fensive to any members of his "fold", the loity frigidity and thoroughly English mannerisms of his worthy wife served as excellent foil to his short-comings. The descendants of the dear souls who came over in that sea-tub of gigantic dimensions, for it must have held legions in crew and passengers (their progeny being as the sand of the sea-shore, for multitude) "ye May-ilower," were, so far as they were represented at "St. liegis " unanimous in extending courtesies to Mrs. and Miss Wyndhame. No youthful "gathering of the clans '' was held com- plete ere long, without the i)res«nce of the minister's Within the space of a few I mteresting daughter. rr 16 LOOKING FORWABD. months, for those two at leist, life became an endless chain of pleasant incidents. To Mr. Wyndhame however, accustomed to fathom beneath the glittering surface of the superficialities around him, came the spirit of a crusader, entering his soul to war against the luxury, hollo wness and deceit which too often sat gaudily bedecked before him, masquerading in Sunday piety. Disappointment had plainly been depicted on the upturned ^faces which greeted his first Sunday's sermon. His shortness of stature (accentuated by the bending of his form from over- study at his desk) detracted not a little from the imposing dignity looked for in the new incumbent of St. Regis, which otherwise his noMe face, crowned by an aureole of silver locks, would liave inspired. When the old, old time-worn text, " How often would I have gathered ye under my wings, even as a hen gathers her little ones unto herself, and ye would not," had been announced, very omnious were the looks of displeasure mirrored on the array of intelligent faces l)efore him ! Ominous as they were, quick as a flash, came revul- sion of sentiment, when the eloquence, the majesty of the speaker's enthusiastic conviction in the divinity of his christian mission began to light up his faded eyes, glow through his ])hrases, and his bent form seemed to rise erect and lofty ! So true is it, that earnest conviction must command respect, if not admiration, the pets of the gilded boudoir who sat before him, left St. Regis that Sunday, if not profoundly moved, (so far as it was in them) touched^ with some slight sense of the higher obligations of life. LOOKING FORWARD. 17 After that first Sunday's effort, quietly resting in his study, bible in hand, bowed in thought, Mr. Wyndhame sat pondering, as Mrs. Wyndhame entered, resplendent in the glories of a wonderful gown (worn for the first time that day), her face beaming with contentment. Noting the rather despondent attitude of her husband, she inquired " whether or not he was ill ? " " Veiy well," came the quick reply — "I was only thinking of the change, — that is all," " Well, I am sure Charles, we should be most grateful for it. Are you not content ? " " Yes mother, all things which are, are best, if ac- cepted in proper spirit. But, looking at the luxury surrounding us — almost thrust upon us, as it were, when to so many worthy ohcs even comfort is denied — I could not help thinking, just now, of one of Cardinal Wolsey's melancholy reflections : * Too much honor, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, too heavy for a man that hopes for Heaven.' " '-*'! CHAPTER II. Among the throng of worshippers who weekly aired their devotion and Sunday garments in St. Eegis' pews, none were more remarkable for punctuality of attend- ance, or loudness of responses, than a certain popular Dr. Wentworth, and his lusty-lunged family. " The Went worths, Wentworth Hall, Wiltshire, Eng- land," visitors at the Doctor's, were impressively informed were their hosts distinguished ancestors. " The rami* 18 LOOKING FORWARD. fications of the family trees* roots entwined themselves Around the throne of good Queen Bess," was a never- to-be-omitted piece of information which followed the iirst announcement, visibly being calculated to staggsr, awe, and subjugate the casual guest, who had heretofore managed to live in ignorance of the existence of this august family. " A long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together " did it take, however, to live up to thlo ancestry, and keep the domestic ship adrift from the financial breakers constantly menacing it — a task by the way in which the Doctor was ably assisted by his " better half," — as wiley worldly-wise a " first mate " as ever manoeuvred tln^ough social reefs. Dinner giving and consiiiiing received perhaps a trifle more attention from the Doctor than was prudent to admit. If Delmonico's chef was only the all&jcd inspiring genius at the Wentwoilhs' little " spreads," it was nobody's business if the learned Esculapian had him- self presided at the birth of tlie various " confections " which graced his festive board, — his Burgundy was unexcelled, his viands fit to tickle the palate of a prince of "gourmets," if not of "gourmands." Unquestioningly " society " accepted, and applauded his efforts at entertaining. The Wentworth mansion being directly opposite the rectory, their social positions bringing them often in contact, it followed in natural sequence that a certain pleasant intimacy should spring up between the Wentworths and the rector's family. f LOOKING FORWARD. 19 The advantages to be gained by the position on the Wentworchs' side were not to be lightly thrown away by the shrewd little wife of the Dr., without an effort being made to turn them to account. The two sons of the house of Wentworth, (only children) respectively fourteen and sixteen years of age, stood sadly in need of classical instruction. For reasons best known to themselves, no capable tutor for a " consideration " of their own making, was found at tliis date to undertake charge of the lads' tuition-;;-a fact which was subject of much pathetic comment in the presence of Mr. Wyudhame, whose affection for the youths was a well-known and traffickcd- upon fact, ill tlic Wentworth household. Being an unusually erudite scholar, with some leisure at his command, what more natural than to offer his services, temporarily, as the lads' instructor, until Inighter days (financially) should dawn for liis neigh- bors, and what more natural than that the offer should be accepted ? Thus, from a date speedily following Mr.Wyndliame's arrival at St. Eegis, he began his self-imposed task of instructor to Keginald and Ethelred Wentworth. A four years' residence in New York passed rapidly, almost uneventfully, to outward appearance. Mrs. Wyudhame, completely absorbed in the dignity of her position, rested upon what seemed to be, in her eyes, a plane of much social magnilicence. Mr. Wyudhame had not only endeared himself to the members of his own congregation, but had found time to go out into the high-ways and by-ways of the il:.:^ .:-u '*■ V > 111 "1; lii LOOKING fORWABD. ... fn that unnumV^ered throng, ^eat city r\rtX " nS'y sU.->^ '^^^^'^ ^^^ who, garbed with fa« ,.^^ ,jj ^^e taint, the s«£- bring glad tidings-for thcs ^^^^^^ nightly in prayer, i„,a°deLoneothi.^^e Ujd^^^^^ ^^^ ,^,, „, --Si:j^-r::%-uji. It there were ^f^^ physical-they were as l.ght of features— mental ana pi ) and shade in detail. „ j^ tall, erect as In studying these V-tn^'^" ^^ ^^^^^^c ongm forest trees (with just a susp ^ ^^^_ Laceable in their dar^^y-J^l,? fn the boasted line files)._it seemed much of t^^ J .^^ ^^^ ,n of cerulean blooded ^^ ^l^'^,, , ojly proportion the elder ; while ^^ "f . f ,' ^^ar cter of the younger of it, was 'ii«'=«^«.™^^^„ " ffaee, indefinably suggested Keginald's serious frank ta , ^^^^ ^y„^ the Medieis', " Penseroso. InJ> J „uch-light," Glimmered that restless hie LOOKING FORWARD. 21 ■■i ■ rong, from yvorld ilure, n the where faces, -where alley- lispiug light to :,he suf- prayer, ireateu- laws of outline as light erect as ic origin line pro- isted line acme in Droportion 3 younger. suggested lark eyes, .tch-light," which, under the conditions iti being demands, the world calls " genius " ; lacking which coaditions, its owner often sinks (a victim of his God-given gift) into an unknown, perhaps a pauper's grave ! From the instant of his meeting his fair fellow-pupil Garcya, he became her hero ! From that day, tlieir youthful hiarts proved (half comprehended though the sentiment had been) how true it is " love is not a plant that springs by the calen- dar " ; waits for showers and sunshine to urge it to perfection — but that its sweet existence is consummate in its birth ; that its miraculous blossom waves the incense of its beauty and its perfume before aston- ished eyes, where only yesterday rugged stones and barrenness greeted one's view ! As Garcya's precocious intellect was placed beside the brigjit minds of Reginald and Ethelred, a jaunty rivalry sprang up between the trio. Before their first year's studies ended, Reginald and the " pastor's daughter " had greatly distanced Ethelred in the race for scholarly honors. With " Reg." — whose taste for art equalled, if not outrivdlled her own — Garuya ([uali'ed deep draughis of delight from rare old volumes and rarer collections of etchings, aquarelles, etc., which filled dfeisels, walls and shelves of Mr. Wyndhame's " study." Pasini, Madrazo, Fortuny, Pelouse, all the " masters '* of the day, as time wore on, became to them, " familiar spirits " whose chef d'oeuvres found " replicas " in the ardent imaginations of the students. a pve- li 22 LOOKING FORWARD. ill iiiiii 1 In:: Many were the stolen " sketching excursions " down the sylvan paths of the Park. Many the lieroic plans they laid for lives of noble purpose which (of/ethcr they would lead. Life became to each a pilgrimage from glory to glory ! Many were the idylic " chsUeaux-en- Espagne " they erected for future habitation — many sunny day-dreams they indulged, heedless of the rude awakening so soon at hand ! Ethelred, practical, selfish ; breathing hatred ttnvard his brother; nursing a pretended grief for liis defeat by him in study (a real annoyance for tlie evident con- tinued favor " lieg." found in Garcya's eyes) long had sighed fwith a revenge in his heart that could dissimu- late and wait) for what he grandly termed "just retribution !" To the deliberate seeker for revenge, the necessary .weapons for compassing his aims are generally found within arms-length. Correctly estimating his mother's views for the matrimonial establishment of himself and brother (when proper time should have arrived) he adroitly led aspiring Mrs. Wentvvorth into belief that Garcya's hold upon his brother's afTections was becoming a topic of general conversation among all who saw them together. So completely did he succeed, the estimable lady was thrown into paroxysms of alarm — a"^ family council was convened that evening, when it was decided to despatch Keginald at once to Wales to pass the remain- ing years of his minority under the guardianship of an uncle who resided there. .liiii LOOKING FORWARD. 23 \)X the irother tly led H's hold opic of Dgether. le lady council ided to remain- Lip of an Doubtless before lon^', all trace of his youthful at- tachment for Garcya would have disappeared. AcconHiigly the following day this modern " Corne- lia," armed cap-a-pie in defence of her two " precious jewels," Eeginald and Ktlielred, entered the sanctum of unsuspecting Mr. Wyndhame just as he completed his sermon for the morrow. No card or other sign that Ids privacy might he in- vaded, reacluid him in his study, wlicri suddenly the 2>i>iiih'('H were rudely thrust aside, and hi* bi^held the apparition of Mrs. Went worth's usually placid features 'istnrted with ill-concealed anger — her small eyes Hashing ! Greatly at loss to interpret the meaning of the vision, the pastor r(jse, essaying to express words of welcome, as he extended his hand in greeting. With a lack of dignity wonderful to behold, in such a pattern of the proprieties as Mrs. Wentworth had heretofore appeared to be, the irate little lady flotmced down into the nearest fauteuil, and with manner so freezing, the well-springs of her host's good nature seemed to congeal, prepariid for the attack. "I fancy Mr. Wyndhame's penetration has not failed him to-day — ahem ! in fact, his manner tells me he has already divined the object of my visit.** " Well, Madam, I really have no pretention to mind- reading ! My manner must strangely belie me if it con- veys the idea to you that I could possibly divine any object than perhaps the too flattering one that you find it agreeable to honor us with your presence," said the pastor, seating himself opposite his guest. IW 24 LOOKING FORWARD. r " Enough compliment, Mr. Wyndharae, I beg. I may as well at once tell you how annoyed we are by the comments your d&ughter's and Reginald's conduct are calling upon themselves from every one who sees them together, as they too frequently have bean. I appeal to you to forbid all future communication between your family and members of my household." Nothing could exceed the pain Mrs. Wentworth's ill- bred speech inflicted. ■ Like a revelation, the truth that more than ordinary ties of pomradship existed between his dearly loved Garcya akid his esteemed pupil Reginald, flashed with ajl the strength of instant conviction across the minister's mind. Passing his hand across his forehead, like one awak- ing from a troubled dream, Mr.Wyndhame said, "Your remarks, Mrs. Wentworth, have surprised and pained me beyond expression." " Really, sir, I marvel that you, of all others, you who have had the nioulding of my sons' characters for four years, should be a straiiger to such a state of affairs ! Even innocent Ethelred noticed it long ago, and wrongly withheld his knowledge from us for fear of causing annoyance to his lPt«thcr. Understand, while I acquit you of any design to — alieni ! — ally yourself with our family, I really nnist protest against further intimacy, and I will not conceal from you that we rely not a little upon Reginald's suitable marriage to — well, in a manner — I'c-establish our old time prestige ; really you must know Reginald is a most fellow !" distinguished LOOKING FOBWARD. 26 Possibly the torrent of insult would have continued '^uninterruptedly much longer, had not the tormentor been startled by the white convulsed face confronting her, as she chanced to gaze directly at Mr. Wyndhame, while pausing for some kind of a reply. ,, ,,. No thought of the indelicate allusion to his "having moulded her sons' characters for four years * when that ^'moulding" had been expenseless to the recipients of his valuable instruction — no thought of the other coarser insinuation troubled Mr. Wyndhame as he sat with "bowed head facing the un£;rateful women before him. The sorrow deep and uncontrolable, which he felt, was for the young lovers themselves — for the bitter task which must be his, in eternally parting them 1 Slowly he faltered, " You have lifted the veil from my eyes by your timely hand, madame. I must be thankful — now that I have regained sight, I will do my duty ! kindly pardon my emotion and frankness when I tell you I am unable to further prolong the interview!" ■ ,. Eising as he spoke, he conducted his rather discon- certed guest to the door, where a servant in attendance, ^oy his presence, effectually silenced further remark on the lady's side. Eetiirning to the study, Mr. Wyndhame met his wife in a state of great agitation, "0 Charles ! Charles ! " whined that lady. " I knew it would come to this, and all through that girl! We've lost the Wentworth'i friendship for ever ! I heard all, for I was in the drawing-room window, unable to escape without at- ::1l 26 LOOKING FORWARD. |M|i: tracting Mrs. Went worth's attention. It* is too dread- ful!" "The 'Wentworths' have no weight in the balance wife, let them not trouble you ! We have a far more important question than their friendship to deal with now." "You are right. It is high time Gareya should know something of herself, she should have known it long ago, if I had had my way." " Possibly-possibly-possibly ! leave me alone wife, a little while ! I'm not quite myself. Go up-stairs — when I get over this stifling feeling round the throat and heart I'll read" those mss, locked in my h'ttle desk, which tell of the night, when baby came to us ! I'll pray for strength — I'll find it, then I'll have you send her to me. I " Go wife, go ' " I don't' like to leave you in this over-excited state of mind, Charles ! Do compose yourself. What is it after all — your telling her makes little difference any- way — so stop doting on that over-grown baby !" not very sweetly said the worthy wife as she left the room. ■ Mr. Wyndhame walked toward the window, opened it, unfastened his coat-collar as though he feared choking, sat down and almost gaspingly inhaled the stiff breeze of the autumn afternoon, while he slowly said : " Doting ? Who would not ' dote ' upon, who would not love, a being so loveable as my poor wild flower — my little Gareya !" LOOKING FORWARD. 27 CHAPTER III. Never had the adopted child been dearer — looked fairer to the pastor — than this bright afternoon when, a few moments after Mrs. Wyndhame left the study, she descended, dressed for a promised drive in the park with a girl friend ! Bright-eyed, rose-cheeked, a perfect pictu">^e of youth- ful loveliness she looked, as she stole behind the minister's chair and surprised him with kiss upon kiss on his pale cheek. " Take off youc hat, little one, wo have much to con- sider seriously, to-day." ... " Seriously ? no ! no ! father, it's too lovely a day to be serious in ! We'll be serious to-morrow — it will be Sun- day, you know ! Good-bye, good-bye, I'm off for my drive !" Without giving time for further protest against her leaving, Garcya was at the door in a trice, blowing imaginary kisses from her finger tips, and in another moment was seated beside her friend in a luxurious carriage speeding toward the park, behind a famous pair of roadsters. The bright sun of the October afternoon had dis- sipated the mist and rain of the morning. The tortuous roads of the park were bordered by a vari-colored broidery of fallen leaves, as Garcya and her friend were driven alon^. . 2S LOOKING FORWARD. 'I il- :^l| The odor of rain-moistened earth, mingled with the perfume of the few remaining blossoms whose sweet existences braved the early autumn storms ; the deli- cate tracery of the spider's waving thread still hung its silver gossamer from twig to twig, and bits of snowy pollen, like ghosts of summer blossoms floated mid-air. Antithetical weather ! The gay, sensuous coloring of mid-summer in the landscape, while a faint suggestion of wintry blasts lingered in the occasional chill in the autumn breeze that fanned one's cheek. But the glory of the scene, the comfort of the softly cushioned carriage, the gay society of her fair com- panion, were lost upon Garcya. Somehow, her having left home in defiance of her father's expressed wish that she should not do so (half playful though the act had been) pained and annoyed Jher. She seemed to see his mildly protesting gaze whichever way she turned. When they reached the Obelisk, she saw Reginald descending the steps of the Metropolitan Museum and her decision was made. In spite of the entreaties of her friend to continue the drive, she left the carriage to join Keginald, intending to ask his escort home at once, and obtain forgiveness from her father for what, to her imagination, appeared now in the guise of a first great sin of disobedience. "How did you know that I was seeking you, Garcjra? Did your heart tell you so, darling ?" were Eeginald's first words when they met. - LOOKING FORWARD 29 gled with the whose sweet ns; the deli- still hung its (its of snowy oated mid-air. us coloring of lint suggestion a chill in the ft of the softly her fair coin- iefiance of her not do so (half pd and annoyed protesting gaze 3 saw Reginald m Museum and i to continue the jinald, intending )tain forgiveness nation, appeared [ disobedience. ingyou.Garcya? " were Eeginald'* • ^■ " I knew nothing, Reginald, only I have a presenti- ment of something dreadful, and I Wanted you to take me home, that is all, bat I am so glad to see you !" " Oh. darling, darling, I don't know how to tell you my news — to tell you what your presentiment does mean ! Don't look at me, Garcya ! I can't bear to see your eyes ! Give me your hands though ; sit down on this bench ; no one sees us. Let me hold your dear little hands while I put the awful truth into words." * Unable to reply, filled with an indefinite idea of coming misfortune of some kind, Garcya allowed her- self to be led to a rustic seat near by, and, with her white fingers tightly locked in Reginald's strong grasp, listened to the story of his coming banishment. " Garcya, you know how thoroughly at variance in taste and aspirations, I am with all my people — how I hate their shams, their aims ! Young as I am, I see through the hollowness of it all ! With you, sweet one, beside me, I can map out a career of usefulness in life ; without you, all is blank and dead ! Come, if you love me ; look at me, now — now, I can bear your gaze — be brave ! Give me a surety of your faithfulness." " What can I give you, Reg, but what you know you have already ?" " Yourself ! Come, Garcya, be brave ! Come, come be my wife, now — this moment ! Let us go to St. X chapel, where my friend Hastings is assistant curate, and is officiating in the Rector's absence. Come, he will not question us about ages or anything else ; he will simply pronounce the words which will make uat 30 LOOKING FORWA.RD, m before the world, what we would always be in heart, were churches never heard of — he will make us man and wife ! Then I will know that when I return, in a few years, it will be to claim my own — that what God hath joined together, man cannot put asunder." "Reginald ! Do you realize what you ask ?" " Yes ! yes. Answer quickly, Yes, be brave, be yourself." What girl of sixteen, loving her first ideal with all the ardor of a poetic nature, with that "ideal" standing before her — his dark, pleading eyes gazing down deep into her own ; his soft caressing accents pleading a cause approved by her heart, could have resisted ?" Without time for reflection (even if inclination were there) to enter a plea again. I the lialf-srnothered outcry of her soul ngainst concealment — the battle was to the stronger ! Shpping her hands loose from lleginald's now painfully strong grasp, she took his right hand within her soft palms, kissed it reverently, and pressed it to her heart for answer ! It was understood — a cab was called — a hasty drive to chapel St, X , and Grarcya became Reginald Went worth's bride. A brisk walk from chapel St. X soon brought the young lovers to St. Regis' Rectory. The day was drawing to a close, as they stood in its spacious vestibule — and, bending over the fair face of his bride, Reginald whispered, "until to-morrow, love!" Then, throwing back the jaunty hat which covered her head, giving liberty to Garcya's cicling masses of hair, Reginald pressed the shining strands to his lips ! " My Garcya, don't chide me for the fanciful request I'm LOOKING FORWARD. 31 be love!" going to make, but, darling, let not a strand of this wealth of gold be severed from your head till I return !' Let me find my bride a 'Lady Godiva,' a 'Berenice,' — let me know the wealth and strength of her beauteous locks have gTown for me — me only ! Good night — good night — sweetest of brides ! 'Till to-morrow, little one. Angels guard and protect my darling !" A hurried, passionate kiss, softly whispered words— '' my wife ! mij wife !" and Garcya stood alone ! The great vestibule door swung open in response to her ring at the bell. She entered the familiar portal with heart now doubly burdened by a sense of wrong concealment, added to first repentance for a first disobedience. She would not take time to lay aside her wraps. She would fiy to the one dear being who had hitherto shared all her joys and griefs — she would throw her arms round his dear old neck and ask forgiveness (for one of her sins at least) certain beforehand of gaining pardon ! It was now quite late, and although no strong light yet shone through the study door, reflection from the glowing coals in the open grate distinctly revealed the minister's figure against the plush arm-chair where he was still seated — his hand hanging listlessly at his side; ''Why ! if he's not fast asleep ! I'll just wake him with a kiss — it's high time he should open his dear old eyes !" said Garcya to herself, stealing tip-toe behind his chair. - " Preparing to give the promised salute, her hand came in contact with that other listlessly pendant one — she caught it up in her own hand ; it was stiff, it was icy, it fell from her like lead ! ' • 32 LOOKINO FORWARD. A horrified glance at the eyes before her, showed them to be fixed and glaring. A terrified cry of " father !" followed by a heavy fall, ■echoed through the house, bringing mistress and ser- vants to the study, where they found Garcya in a death- like swoon beside the lifeless body of Charles Egberte Wyndhame ! CHAPTER IV. Two days after Mr. Wyndhaime's funeral, Garcya left her room for the first time since the tragic revelation of the minister's death. At the drawing-room door, " Hawkins," the house-keeper met her, and scanned her wan and troubled face with an air of pity. " I want to go in — there," stammered Garcya, poiht- iug toward th^ study. , " Where is Mrs. Wyndhame ? Is, is he — father-— there now ?" " no ! Miss Garcy, deary ! Your poor dear Pa, his blessed reverence, is sleepin* in the cemetery out in Lynwood these two days — and yomr Ma, she's gone over to Jersey too. She left that letter there on the table for you. You've been powerful sick, Miss Garcy ! Siacks of people have been here callin' and callin' a leavin' cards of condolence for your Ma." " But why don't she send for me to go to her ? Is she coming home ? Oh ! perhaps she tells me what to do in the letter ? Give it to me." LOOKING FORWARD. 3^ wed fall, ser- jath- berte ra left slatiou door, edher point- ither— Pa, his out in s gone on the Garcy ! callin* a ler ? It what to Glancing through the silent, deserted-looking hall and rooms, where but a few days before all had looked the picture of an ideal home, realization of her irrepar- able loss came vividly to mind. " Oh, my poor dear father ! my poor dear father r sobbed Garcya. " Hawkins, please go over to Mrs. Wentworth and ask if I may see her a while ? I long to have some one to talk to ! Mr. Keginald might come with her, might he not ? Will yoa ask him, Hawkins ?" '* Oh, my ! no. Miss Garcy ! That wouldn't never do no-how, not at all !" tartly replied the old servaiit, proudly disdaining methods of expression usually re- commended, at the same time tossing her becapped head high in air in delight at her unusually keen perception of the "proprieties." " Even if it would do, 'twouldn't be no usftj for the young gentleman has gone away ! " Gone away !" "True as gos^el,'gonc away*" repeated the old woman, with a tone unsuggesting the suave sycophancy com- mon to the servants of the rectory when addressing their '• young mistress." oudJf nly, ua though eoii- scieuce-smitten, when shp marked the blank, hopeless look of the young face beside her, the woman added in a softened toiie : " He did go, Miss Grarcya ! I'll never, never forget how badly he did feel when he just tiew up to your room in spite of everybody, when you were , fast asleep from all the medicines the doctor gave you ! He was sent away almost unbeknownst to himself to some furrin parts, and he was just a-givin' me a letter 34 LOOKING FORWARD. for you, when your ma, she came in the room suddin, and just snatched it and tore it up, but he whispered to me that he'd give his brother another one for you next day. La ! how he did take on !" " Wlieie's the letter, then ?" cried Garcya, roused from her frightened stupor, and violently catching at the old chatterbox's arm. "La! Miss, don't pull a body to pieces ! I didn't never get none ! I asked Mr Ethelred for one when he passed the house next d y, and he said he didn't have any letter for you, and his brother had left the night before." " Then, I f/ni deserted ! Give me Mrs. Wyndliame's letter. Go away, Hawkins ; leave me alone, as they all seem to have done !" said Gareya, entering the dear, familiar old study and softly closing its door. " Humph ! a mighty lofty-tofty miss, to shut the door in m?/ face ! I reckon she'll have a 'come down' sooner than she thinks,' muttered the hou.se-keeper as she walked away. Garcya, once in the room so lately hallowed by the dear presence of her beloved dead, gave vent to the pent-up storm of grief raging in her heart. Aiter the first paroxysm had spent itself, she lay on the couch where Mr. Wyndhame had so often reposed after long labor at his sermons, childishly fancying how " father looked in that chair, near that table." Suddenlv her wandering glances were attracted by an article in the N. Y. Morning Courier, which lay out-spread on an ebony desk almost at her elbow. It was entitled, ''Sensational developments made at the death-bed of LOOKING FORWAIID. 35 Idin, 3d to next )used ig at Udn't en he have night lianie's 3 they 3 dear, iut the down' ?per as by the to the iter the couoh ter long " father [inly her in the on an entitled, h-bed oi the late lamented pastor of St. Eegis." On and on she read, "the romantic episode in the distinguished clergy- man's life " which treated of " his adoption of the sup- posed ill igitimate daughter of a Spanish actress," of how he had been "found lifeless with manuscripts relating to the child, firmly grasped in his right hand 1" "The illegitimate daughter of a Spanish actress !" The words seemed burned into Garcya's heart with letters of tire ! Stamped on her brow (it seemed to her imagination) would henceforth be branded the cruel insignia of a mother's shame — there it would glare and glitter forever, to be read by the world, wliose most favored children but yesterday vied among them- selves to do her lionor ! " Pariah ! ves," she murmured, '"' more of an outcast among her quondam associates, than those dark children of superstition to whom her childish heart had often turned in pity as bound in chains of ignorance in fur off India!" Death ! What was it ? What had it been to Jdm who had been father most tender to her, since her earliest recollection ? Death ! anuiliilation ! loss irreparable ! In the horror of the moment, even the teachings of her beloved dead were empty sounds ! Her morbid fancy pictured distorted views of every baneful thought con- veyed by every book she ever had perused ! In the tor- « ture of the instant, imagination led her to those dread " Towers of Silence," where the Parsee mutely bears his dead ; she heard the flapping wings of sombre vultures hovering over them ; heard their greedy clamor for the horrid food so soon to satiate their hunger, and she saw 4.i : ii 3a LOOKING FORWARD. ill "I'll. Pi' the clean-picked snowy human bones, left from the ghoulish feast, fall deep within their ghastly sepulchres t No gentle voice, no tender accents spoke words of grace and comfort all that solemn afternoon when the tortured solitary mourner wrestled with her first-born horror, until reason seemed well nigh totterinc on her throne in the troubled young brain. The dying rays of the afternoon sun gilded the not distant spire of St. Regis, wlien Garcya, with a sense of relief at contact with something which spoke of life, at last tore open Mrs. Wyndhame's letter which had lain unsealed on her lap. She read : " Dear Garcta, — When this letter reaches you, I trust you will have recovered from the shock of Mr. Wyndhame's death, whicli has prostrated us both. When you realize that a perusal of the mss. he made long ago relating to yourself, is said by eminent phy- sicians to have been an indirect cause of his death in having aggravated his latent heart trouble by mental excitemeat, you will understand that your presence in my desolate home — wherever it may be — would be to<-> painful a renui;der of my grief for nie to bear in my feeble state of liiind. Your gratitude to the dpad, as well as th'j n zing, will suggest that you seek another residence at once. Your mourning is doubtless arrived at the rectory ere this. It was ordered with niy own I enclose a check for 8100.00. If ever you need a friend, an appeal for assistance to me will never be ignored. The fatal mss. are in the ebony desk in the study. In deep grief, MarxON Tollingworth Wyndhame." St.; forn Tl Wyi ing LOOKING FORWARD. 37 the ures t Is of I the -born n her f rays of St. jntact I open led on you, I of Mr. I both, e made it phy- eath in uiental 3ence in d be too r in my (Ipad, as another 3 arrived my own need a never be sk in the NDHAME." And that was all! There was no need to read the "niss. in the ebony desk " now — their bitter contents were no longer sacred to tlieir vij^ilant guardian of sixteen years, their painful secret was now the property sorbed in devotion to observe that the fair mourner (who obviously excited his curiosity) remained also. When Garcya rose to depart (and the soft rns; Hng of her gown died away) the gentleman followed her 'xample — and herself, at a respectful distance, until ?he disapp(Mred within the rectory — then, deliberately taking' out ^'is vu'.'aorandum book, he jotted down the name (f \V_y aufja'ue " the rectory's door plate an- uouhc ■' dien turning, walked I'apitUy back in the direction .vhence he came. . :\III)NIGHT. xVt a certain u[)-town club, renowned for its hospital- ity to strangers, several " gilded " youths are going through their custonuiry '' facings " all of them suffi- ciently advanced cj the rood to spiritual exhileration 40 LOOKING FOfiWAliD. ;;lil IS'' to have become a bit reckless. One of the party (evidently a stranger) a trifle less boisterous than his companions, and who was the subject of much congratu- lation on account of his late "deuced lucky" ventures on the turf, broke a brief (but suggestive) silenc by re- marking " he didn't care a continental about the 'stuff' raked in on the course — he'd give every cent of it to know a divine girl he'd followed home from St. Patrick's that morning when he turned out to see Banta put his head into the noose matrin^nnial " " Well that's * noose ' indeed 'pon me wora ! If you followed her home tho', you ought to know something about her !" chimed in companion No. 1. "Well, Mr. Punster, I know 'Eev. C. E. Wyndhame" was on the door-plate of the house she entered ; I know that much anyway! She's a 'stunner,' as you say,. I can tell you that, too." "Trid, she's not your style — /'// tell you that, too !' " What do you mean ?" shouted the party addressed, with more emphasis than the occasion seemed to war- rant, •* Sapristi ! If she'd marry me, I'd take her ^c morrow !" " Phew ! T"*o sudden — beg pardon, didn't thin!' you so hard hit, old boy, to just fall h. love, ye knaow, with a girl ye don't knaow, don't ye knaow !" drawls out companion No. 2. " Oh, you go to sleep !" admonished 'Frid, adding " 1) am that ' hard hit !' never so much so in my li'e I'lL own up ! I'm done for this time, boys ! ' U i the if tf Fill sad excit unst^ tabl( LOOKING FORWARD. 4i: „>» "Well, then," remarks companion No. 1, "If you are so serious, old man, I'll give you an honest pointer, so 'elp me 'eavens to Betsy I will ! If you'd read; yesterday morning's Courier laddie, you'd have knovvui all her history — it w^as all cooked up in that blissful sheet, to a turn ! Of course, well understood that the fair incognito entered St. llegis rectory in 5 — th Street,, as it would appear from your description she really did Shall I tell you what to do ? Haven't you friend or relative who wants a companion or governess, or some- thing of the sort ?" " No ! Why ?" "Why ! Why, it's clear as — never mind, our ideas arn't quite so lucid as they used to be — but it's clear,, anyhow, ' Miss Wyndhame ' will try the independent act ; they all do, those well-bred girls when they get into trouble. She'll likely advertise for a ' position." You buy all the papers, answer all the * ads ' you think likely to fit the case, get her 'engaged' with someone of your acquaintance if you can, get introduced — and make a fool of yourself to your heart's content I See ?" " Capital ! capital ! you are great ! Command me to the extent of half me kingdom ! Give me the Couribr, if that's it on the table there behind you ; let's read it. Fill up the flowing bowl, lads ; let's drink to me lady's sad eyes ! Here's luck to my expectations,'' said the excited man, as the bubbling " sec," held high in his unsteady hand, streamed over his arm down to the table beside him. 42 LOOKING FOKWARD. ■;i'!!! 'ii 4 With little persuasion the toast went round, again and again, until 'Frid de la Roche, elevated even unto the realms of poesy, edified his companions with a series of misquotations to the apparent relief of his over- burdened intellect, finally rounding off' his periods witli a parting injunction to his friends, and the reukirkable {- lo'.incenient, " Yes, I'm off to sleep, ' perchance to di^.ti;. as Romeo hath it."' "iNii^, I protest, Romeo hath it not! Your Shake- speare's rusty — as you'll be to-morrow. Romeo never got a chance to dream, with all liis prowling round Montagues' fruit-tree tups. It's me private opinion the old fellow Itept a huckster shop." Where tlie imagination of the last speaker might have led liim will forever be unknown .' With step airy as Ids thoughts, loftily disdaining ordinary methods of locomotion, inexplicably his pedal ex- tremities became entangled with those of his com- panions, wlio lay half extended in their chairs, having already succumbed to the inliuence of the drowsy god. In a moment his full length measured the floor ! De la Roche having too much difficulty in maintain- ing his own equilibrium to assist his friends to normal positions, stepping over a confused mass of arms and legs, wended his way as best he could toward his liotel, the Waltingham, a few blocks distant. Wilfrid de la Roche, twenty-five years of age, unfettered in heart (until his chance meeting at St. LOOKING FORWARD 43 ain nto iiies ver- kVitU able ^e to lake- Liever •ouud )iuiori uiighl ;i step tliuary il ex- com- chairs, i: the -asured iiilaiu- uorniul ^lus and is hotel, of age, a at St. o Patrick's Cathedral) was about as jolly a " Roger Bon- temps " as the staunch old Cambria ever carried across the Atlantic ! After the manner of Canadians, he had made the traditional pilgrimage to Paris, so dear to the hearts of newly-fledged heirs-at-law in his native land, and there,, in the gay centre of modern civilization, he had thoroughly enjoyed his little " time," and about this- particular date he was about returning to his home in Montreal, where a pair of twin sisters, as unlike their spendthrift brother in appearance (as they were ia character) awaited his arrival with no little anxiety. From the tone of certain letters of the Misses de la lioche, as well as some from M. de Gallon rouge, the family notary, Mr. Wilfrid was led to infer several " rods " awaited him up home in very briny pickle ! It went without saying that he was very reluctant tD leave "the boys" at the club in New York City, tlie race-course where an " inside " bet had brought such luck he had honorably settled divers awkward debts (which otherwise might have remained uncan- celled 'til doomsday) and last — not least — the prospect of meetmg a new inamorata ! It was evident under such conditions, Montreal and Hades were synonyms-»-New York and Paradise — com- ])aratively. Little wond«;r that he chose the latter as abiding place, long as he possibly c^uld. Inheriting the fair hair and violet eyes of an anglo- saxon mother, the passionate and at times ungovernable 44 LOOKING FORWARD. temper of his Norman father, in character and looks,he typified extremes. . ^ Brightest, bonniest of the children (since his pinafore days the petted darling of a widowed mother) until Madame de la Koche's death, his will at the old seignorial residence of " Montlaurier " had been a law, whence appeal was unknown. But matters changed with a new regime ! By the terms of the late Madame de la Koche's will, the twin sisters, Alexandrine and Euphrosine, (maidens of f'^-^nty-seven years) were placed on equal terms with the ci-devant autocrat Master Wilfrid ! So much, for this interesting hybrid — this Anglo- Prenchman or French-Englishman. The indulgent reader may have his choice in relegating our hero to either France or Albion until further notice or until annexation ! Our anomalous Frenchman (we take for granted Fra7icc, in deference to our hero's sires' descent, has had the honor of the reader's choice of nationality) had just finished an apology for a meal served in his apartments at the Waltingham, and was reading the Courier brought home from the Club the night before, when like an inspiration, his friend's suggestion about the " governess " scheme flashed through his mind. With de la Roche, decision meant immediate action. A hasty toilet was soon completed, a cab called, and l9efore he had half time enough to realize the Quixotic nature of the errand on which he was bent, he was at LOOKING FORWARD. 45 the " Hotel Royale," bowing servilely before one whom, from his earliest infancy, he had regarded with mingled sentiments of awe and detestation ! Worthy and aged coquette ! My feeble quill cowers in attempting to depict thee ! To fittingly portray the wiles, the graces, sins, perfections, the infinite varieties which contributed toward making up thy charming,, yet fearful personality, it should be instinct with the quickening tire Prometheus stole from liigh Olympus ! Helene La Fontaine, widow of Rwul La Fontaine (de la Chambre) ; " la Bdlc Helene," as she was called in the days of her youth long past, had been contem- porary with the late Madame de la Roche. Every shady episode in young Wilfrid's life (as well as those in many another's history) was to her an open book — a book, too, from which she made rare and unhappy quotations at unlooked for and inopportune moments ! That extraordinary "chroni<|ue3 scandaleuses" floated about, of a certain escapade, in which a foreign valet (masquerading in his master's titles, jewels, etc.) figured as tlie chcr ami of a fair Montrealer whose description tallied wonderfully with that of the beauteous Helene of the past, troubled the lady in question not in the least ! The windows of the traditional glass-house in which she lived had been so shattered long ago, she could, and did thoroughly enjoy her power of throwing as many missiles at the shortcomings of friends and foes as- 46 LOOKING FORWARD. pleased her whims, with no fear of a return fire from any direction ! Holding in some mysterious way the key to secrets 'of many people who sat in the high places of the Dominion, she became a power to fear and respect, and was unquestioningly recognized a social " oracle." Sitting in her boudoir with closed doors, in some occult manner, was she cognizant of the tid-bits of scandal of the entire social world of Canada ! The struggle of her life had been the yielding up of the last vestige of apparent physical youth — when her last effort to reduce the burden of her increasing flesh 'had been ineffectual — when " embonpoint" had merged into undeniable obesity ! Until that day, with lotions, pastes and nostrums, she still coaxed back a semblance of her youthful •charms ! Now, alas ! in indirect ratio as her corset numbers mounted the ascending scale of figures, her liopes declined I In New York (that city of patent miracles) she de- termined to pass a winter, hope still suggesting the sweet possibility that in some of the " beautifying and sanitary emporiums" which fill the great metropolis, she might find the long sought elixir of youth eternal ! The day her Titanic figure ambled across St -Tames ■street; Montreal (her little atom of a pug dog follow- ing in her wake at the end of several yards of ribbon) and she announced her intended departure for the United States, to the ominously polite group of ac- LOOKING FORWARD. 4T quaintances who met her on the street — on dit, the n:,ws spread like wild fire — the great event was evea Hashed over private wires, and naughty people asserted' a sigh of relief issued from the lips of wearers of the " wool-sack and ermine " from Ottawa to Quebec ! Unchristian people said also " when it was known she had actually left the country, the great ' Bourdon *" on Notre Dame was rung at the city's expense, and Te Deum Laudamus* ordered chanted, as a thank offering, in many churches" — but wicked people will say almost anything ! Be these things as they may, here was the lady installed at the " Royale," and here was de la Roche standing before ner, the last person she had expected to see ! Here she sat smiling hideously (her guest thought) her black eyes twinkling, her fat cheeks shaking like jelly-bags ! Without rising from her becushioned arm- chair, she took poor Wilfrid's outstretched hand within her own fat palms, holding it like a vice, as she drew him by main force down to a foot-stool beside her 1 " The old vagabond is omniscient ! I feel she knows all about my plans already ! I do believe she's sold herself bodily to the Old Boy ! He'll have his hands full with her 1 How could I have dreamed of placing that divine girl in such hands ?" unfiatteringly mused de la Roche, as he shuttled uncomt t-ably on his low seat beside his hostess. While he thus mentally anathematized his intentions, he little dreamed he was " building better than he knew I" • - i 48 LOOKING FORWARD. ■'! i .,■„,' I!' llllllliljilii m -The Madame had that very morning bemoaned the TBTanotony of her lot. Its uneventfulness bored her excessively. She yearned for fresh sensations (she was not particular of what kind) and Wilfrid's unexpected 'Visit, she said, was "just the tonic needed to stir her iiip a bit." " So you're having a fine time down here ? No hurry to get home, mon gar^on ? Not too good I hope ? " said Madame, elevating her brows, giving an unpleasan^^ly significant shrug of her shoulders, as she peered into •de la Eoche's blood-shot eyes, at which that gentleman visibly winced ! "I like New York — always did — you know, Madame." " Not too fast — boy ? I fear, from your looks, it don't agree with you ! There ! Je vous en prie ! Surely an old woman may be permitted frankness. Ta-ta — boy. We won't tell our sisters, though — shall we ?" Anxious to change the subject of conversation, de la Jloche avoided reply to tlie old lady's last speech and abruptly asking " if she read much ?" " Well — not much beyond the daily papers — and my :prayer3, dear ! My eyes have troubled me so much ; the papers, though, are a relief sometimes, they take one away from the intolerable routine of hotel life, they're so delightfully newsy." "By the way, Madame, did you read those sensational articles about the death of the pastor of St. Eegis V Wilfrid remarked, with such apparent effort to appear indifferent, the shrewd old woman's suspicions were At once aroused. hh mii drc ens viej di^ w LOOKING FORWARD. 49 the her was icted r her lurry ' said jan^^ly I into lemau dame." t don't rely an X— boy. Li, de la ch and -and my much ; ley take otel lift' usational Begis V to appear (ions were •" Why, no ! What were they, Wilfrid ? " Well, I believe I have the Courier in my pocket which tells all about the whole affair — yes," said Wil- frid, producing the paper. "Here it is! Shall I read it?" " Oh, by all means — do so.'' " Here Wilfrid began reading the article in question, dwelling on the sentences alluding to " Miss Wynd- hanie's youth, beauty and accomplishments." " Well, it's a sad affair, really ; but it's funny how you're interested, Wilfrid ! Do you know the young lady ?" No — that is — no — Oh, no ! I do not know Miss Wyndhame, I only know about her, you know 1" " Indeed ! (humph ! that argues something in the girl's favor," sotto voce adds Madame. "What will the poor thing do — Miss Wyndhame I mean, has she friends ?" " I'm told not," Wilfrid said, and, warming up with his subject, continued, " I understand, though, that the young lady will look for a position as companion, governess, or something of that sort. Perhaps you might know of some one in need of her services ?" " I ? No, indeed !" Here the young man's hopes dropped many degrees below zero ! An awkward pause ensued in which " Sucre," the pug, rec<^',ved several vicious little kicks from Wilfrid's boot — dangerous diversion had the dog's mistress seen the action ! Persuaded he had utterly failed in the mission un- dertaken with such high hopes, disappointed and ill- I iL i n J 60 LOOKING FORWARD. '■''li liil 1 1 natured, Wilfrid was about taking leave, when to his unutterable surprise, Madame Lafontaine remarked : " She didn't know but that the society o^ a bright young girl might prove an amusement— d ' ^estant ' too, would be a novelty, her ways of thougnt would be odd, her manners perhaps droll ; would Wilfrid find out her address ?" " Would he ?" — would he not ransack Manhattan Island for it, if need be ? but there was no necessity however, she could simply " address a note to St. Regis rectory to Miss Wyndhame, that was all there was to do," Wilfrid said, his face fairly beaming with delight as he rose preparing to leave his friend. " Ha ! ha ! ha 1" chackled Madame to h uf, " I see it all now — he's in love with that girl 1" Unable to conceal his pleasure at Madame's proposi- tion, Wilfrid could not refrain from indulging in some wild demonstration of delight ! Catching the Madame's fat hand he covered it with kisses, entirely forgetting his late antipathy to its owner, while the " oracle " looked on, intensely amused ! "If you should meet Miss Wyndhame, Madame, never mention r.iy name please, I'm a perfect stranger to her," were Wilfrid's last words as he left "Hotel Royale," full of blissful visions ! With the assurance that she would respect his wishes, her curiosity now thoroughly aroused, hoping she could' once more indulge a favorite old-time penchant for match-making, and fervently hoping there was an m ■:ili!;':ii: 11 Ji LOOKING FORWARD. 5t ** affaire du ccBur " to be wicnessed in the near future, and that it would prove to her a great diversion, Madame bid her guest " good night." CHAPTER VI. Meanwhile Garcya " Wyndhame " was preparing to leave the Rectory. All her pretty girlish belongings were tearfully packed away. She knew not where to go, or what to do, although her extreme youth and in- experience robbed the future of much uncertainty, and »iany terrors. She had seen Ethelred as he left his house that morning, had been told Re iiald's farewell letter to her had "been lost," but that " so soon as Reginald ar- rived at Havre he would forward some address where she might write him with safety." Several days had now elapsed, since Mr. Wyndhame's funeral, but no letter of tender sympathy came from Lynwood, where Mrs. Wyndhame lingered. Garcya hoped against hope that her foster-moth«r would relent, and for longed-for, tender, motherly words, which never came. She had sent a little tear-blotted note to Mrs. Went- worth that afternoon asking " if she might not go to her a little while that dreary day ?" The answer brought over by the maid " that Mrs. Wentworth declined seeing the young person calling herself * Miss Wyndhame,' was still in her hand, as she looked out through the drizzling rain, where wretched I 52 LOOKINa FORWARD. looking mortals hurried along the street under dripping umbrellas. How miserable everything looked ! How homeless and dreary the people seemed ! " Would she ever be like them ?" the child asked herself. Only a few days- ago the man she loved as the tenderest of fathers stood beside her, and Reginald, dear Reginald^ seemed always lingering near. To-day, no friends but the servants who waited upon her, to speak to her a kind word ! Oh ! but it was bitter ! God, who had seemed somewhere before to pray to, appeared to have vanished from her universe ! With the insolently worded note of Mrs. Wentworth still between her fingers, she stood motionless at the window when a servant brought her another letter. From whom could it be ? Eagerly she tore off the envelope and with great astonishment, read : '* Miss Wyndhame will confer a great favor by calling at rooms 23 and 25, 'Hotel Royale,'at three o'clock this afternoon. Ill-health is Miss Wyndhame's corres- pondent's only plea for not having herself called at the rectory. Respectfully, H. L. La Fontaine." Unquestioning any motive but the best, in seeking her acquaintance, promptly at the appointed hour Garcya presented herself at the ' Hotel Royale,' and after a lengthy interview left Madame La Fontaine her accepted future "dame-de-compagnie": Two days after- ward she was installed in her new position. LOOKING FOKWAED. 5i? ping eless jr be days- stood [ways upon Lt was ray to, bworth at the letter. aff the calling )ck this corres- 1 at the A.INE." seeking ed hour ale/ and taine heu ,ys after- Before the firsi week of her engagement was over, Mr, W. de la Roche '* had been duly presented to her as " Madame La Fontaine's friend." A fortnight had not passed before that gentleman's visits became an every day occurrence. His tributes of flowers blossomed on Garcya'a dressing-table; books, elegant trifles, calculated to please a young girl's fancy, were found all over their apartments, gifts from the gay young Canadian. To the practiced eye of that arch-intriguante, Madame La Fontaine, all things seemed working as she desired. Not only was she gratified at the prospect of future match-making, apparently so near at hand, bi't some ancient grudge, borne by her against the swarthy sisters of Wilfrid, seemed to offer special attraction for forwarding a marriage with their brother and her com- panion, a marriage which she well knew they would look upon as a " mesalliance !" However, to the most interested party to all the sclicming, the delicate insinuations of Madame as to " future possibilities, etc.," were meaningless. While Garcya respected, even liked, her generous friend Wil- frid, her heart was too absorbed in contemplation of another, dearer image, to seriously interpret matters as Madame La Fontaine would have her do. Oh ! the weary walks in places where she hoped to- have a chance to speak to Ethelred — the weary weeks and months of patient waiting for news from Reginald which never came ! ■ Mtj m V ''i ill illi'jjli ■il'illli'j'i It ■■%!■<■■• mm """llililliiiii! u LOOKING FORWARD. One bright spring afternoon, six months after her engagement with Madame La Fontaine, when pained by one of the nameless little acts of thoughtlessness common to that lady (when not in one of her most "charming" moods) she decided to make another at- tempt at seeing Ethelred. She had carefully concealed iom him her resident addresSf and all things concerning herself, exc©pt naming a post office box as a place to forward letters from Reginald, if any came. Walking slowly down the avenue, where she knew Ethelred would probably pass on his way homeward, she prepared to await him about his dining hour. Judiciously having chosen her time, before long she was rewarded by seeing him come rapidly toward her. " Garcya ! I'm glad to see you — won't you give me your address now ?" said he, as he eagerly greeted her with unusual good nature. " No, Ethelred — not) yet — but Reginald, have you no news ? Oh ! be truthful Ethelred — tell me — is he " " Dead ? Yes, Garcya ! Reginald died several months ago of yellow fever on the west coast of Africa, and was buried there. I didn't want to tell you — but you'd find it out some day and I might as well break 'the news to you as any one else. Don't look so white and frightened! There are o'kers in the world beside Meginald." His words were thrown away ! Garcya stood beside him a moment, then waiting to hear mo more, turned and left Ethelred muttering to himself sorrc set; t and ness the we I wan earnj doorl Tl ftain< LOOKING FORWARD. 55 sr her )ained ssness most er at- esident excopt letters e knew aeward, ir. 3ng she ird her. give me leted her e you no he •' l1 months Erica, and you— but ell break : so white :ld beside ! Garcya to hear to himself something about "that girl loving 'Reginald' dead more than any other fellow living." On she walked faster and faster as though trying tO' get away from herself, not knowing or caring in what direction, until she felt a strong, but gentle hand lain firmly on her ami, and heard a man's voice tenderly whispering ''Garcya !" Looking up she met the gaze of de la Roche's blue eyes. " Garcya, what does this scared white face mean ? Has that old woman been insulting you ? Speak to me !" Tliere was no mistaking the tenderness of the man's nianirer and voice. Garcya tried to be brave and speak calmly, but she could not. Noting that her self-control was fast going, and fear- ing a " scene " on the street, de la Roche hailed a cab, handed her in it, and took a seat beside her. " If you don't wish me to know the cause of your sorrow, Garcya, I'll not seek to know it, but you must see that I love you ! Give me a right to be your protector and counsellor in all sorrow I End all the unpleasant- ness of your present life ; be my wife 1 Here we are at the "Royale," — tell me that I may hope, Garcya, before we part — may I ?" ' " I will think — only please let me get to my room, I want to be alone," was all the reply poor Wilfrid's- earnest pleading received as Garcya left him at the door, and flew to her room to indulge her grief ! The next day, de la Roche made Madame La Fon~ taine his confidant. :56 LOOKING FORWARD. Garcya kept her room on plea of " severe headache." Together the arch strategist and diplomate, Madame La Fontaine with Wilfrid, concocted the plan of dwell- ing upon the fdct of the latter's having obtained Garcya a home with Madame through his influence (a fa-ct she had never yet learned) and working upon the feelings of gratitude she should entertain toward her ■"benefactor." Having made this breach, knowing hers to be a pre-eminently grateful nature, Wilfrid con- tfidently trusted his persuasive powers to do the rest. The conspirators were right. Skillfully they laid their plans, skillfully they executed them ! Adroitly each in turn attacked the citadel of Garcya's heart. Weary from battling against a tide of sorrow, seemingly ready to overwhelm her — "father and Reginald both dead," longing for love and sympathy and home, the unhappy girl accepted Wilfrid de la Roche for her husband. When autumn came, the anniversary of her first great sorrow past, she became the bride of one man, dreaming night and day of another, whose lonely grave on yellow sands under African palms, seemed •ever to haunt her ! CHAPTER VII. Montreal ! Queen of the North — lifting her regal head, crowned with its diadem of domes and turrets, far above the great plain, stretching southward — reposing majestically under shadow of her solemn sentinel, Mount Royal — lulled to rest (when sounds of her LOOKING FORWARD. 0« iche." adame dwell- Tarcya a fa,ct )n the ,rd her ig hers d con- rest. By laid Ldroitly 5 heart, emingly lid both me, the for her y of her 1 of one 5e lonely seemed ler .^o regal iirrets, far -reposing sentinel, s of her children's busy traffic, melts into the silence of niQ[ht) by uhe distant roar of mighty St. Lawrence, who, like a silver python crawls over his rocky bed, at her feet, in march triumphant toward the sea ! In her imperial right hand holding the key to the golden store-houses of the world's western harvest lands — in her left the " legend of a people " — annals where valiant deeds of yesterday, meet and incite to greater ones, her children of to-morrow. Calm and immovable in purpose, her lofty brows, white smoothness corrugated in thought, her sybilline eyes peering through the veil which hangs between present and future — showing her the destiny of nations — showing her " Columbia " with out-stretched hands welcoming her into the great Eepublic ! " MONTLAURIER." In Montreal's most aristocratic quarter, its faubourg St. Antoine, in the midst of grounds several acres in extent, whose northern boundarv was broad and beautiful Dorchester street, its southern, St. Antoine, " Montlaurier," the solidly built and imposing home of the de-la Koches, lifted its solitary tower. A winding drive from the southern entrance (past a rather ill-kept lodge) brought the visitor to a terrace where broad stone steps led up to heavy-panelled doors. Over a heavy granite portico sculptured in bas- relief, the word " Bienvenue " suggested visions of a [ihospitality, which at the date of our story, alas ! had 58 LOOKING FOmVARD. '] lii become little more than a family tradition of the " maison de-la-Roche." The old mansion, with its low-ceiled rooms,wing8 and tower added according to the taste or necessities of succeeding generations of de-la- Eoches as time wore on had, while becoming a nondescript of architecture, developed into a far more comfortable residence than its founder, the first Seigneur de la Roche in 17. .,had ever dreamed it could become ! Under thick-boughed maple trees in the grounds, hammocks swung invitingly on summer days, and the perfume of a well-Kcpt flower garden greeted the senses with languorous suggestiveness, as one sat dreamily on its broad verandah. On the southern slope of Montlaurier's hill, the sur- prised guest, wandering down a rustic path, was sud- denly confronted with a sylvan lake, over-hung and shaded by drooping willows, on whose pebbled beach tiny frogs and crickets incessantly chattered. An arm-chair of nature's construction, formed by interlocking apple boughs, wooed the enchanted spec- tator to rest beside limpid waters, while the soft musical tinkle of a cow-bell, as startled, one looked through lilac twigs, encountering the complacent gaze of old *• brindle's " soft eyes, lured a poetic mind into dreaming a charming " pastorale." Blonde Autumn had with prodigal hand, adorned this scene, it would seem past adornment. The magic touch of her fingers had tinged with hues- LOOKING FORWAKD. 59 i the [rgand ies of ore on jcture, than .,hacl 'ounds, ad the senses nily on ;he sur- ras sud- ng and i beach med by ed spec- ;he soft 3 looked sent gaze ind into adorned vith hues- of her heart's blood, of gold and royal purple, all the •emerald leaves departed summer showered on the trees ! This bright autumn afternooa, when Wilfrid de la Eoche and his girl-bride drove up tlie avenue at Mont- laurier, the place was at its loveliest ! Leaning from the carriage window, her eyes wide- strained in child-like admiration, her responsive heart aglow with poetic enthusiasm, the fair little bride grasped her husband's arm, exclaiming : " Oh ! Wilfrid, this is Paradise !" " I'm afraid you'll find the trail of the serpent over it, though," not very encouragingly added Wilfrid. They were now almost at the terrace ; soon those twin sisters would come down to meet her, their steps languid under weight of antique brocades they would wear ! In imagination she could hear the swish of their silken draperies, could catch a glimpse of lavender-scented old laces — could catch the gleam of family jewels, they would doubtless don, in honor of their young brother's bride ! Soon she would be en- circled by their motherly arms (were they not twenty" seven years of age, and tha* seemed ancient, very, to eyes whose owner had scarcely seen seventeen birth days ?) " 0, Wilfrid, we're almost at the house ! Your sisters must be watching for us I O ! there's a tower, too 1 I shouldn't be in the least surprised to halt before a port- cullis and find a moated grange somewhere on the im 'X 60 LOOKING FORWARD. . ''I'llllI'!'! ' 'MMW :''ii! m other side, with dear old ruins all covered with moss and ivy ! How delightful !" Her raphsodies were cut short by the alarming ap- pearance of the huge coachman on the driving-box ! Such contortions as he indulged in, bid fair to termin- ate in dire results ! Whether laughter, idiocy, or illness was the cause, the effect was most extraordinary ! " What is the matter with the creature, Wilfrid ? " "Nothing ! It's Montmorency's way of being amused! I suppose he's struck with your childishness !" " He's very rude, I think — what is his name did you say, Wilfrid ?" " His whole name ? I'd better give it gently: Jaccjues Napoleon Bonaparte de Montmorency, dit La Chapelle,. His de " " Hold, hold — enough !" playfully interrupted Garcya, as the carriage scopped, and she was assisted to alight. '• What can be the matter ? The blinds are all drawn in broad daylight ! Could they have missed our tele- gram and have gone away ?" "Certainly not, foolish girl ! How could they have known of our stopping over at Plattsburg and coming in by this train, and have had 'Morency meet us, if they'd missed the despatch !" " That's so !" mused Garcya, as the door swung open, and she entered the dark hall- way — almost groping her way alone — Wilfrid, for unexplained reasons, still remaining at the carriage with Montmorency. Opportunity for further speculation was cut short ^ LOOKINt. FORWARD. 61 by the apparition of two extraordinary-looking female heads, surmounted by odd-looking black woolen tuques, peeping over the balustrade, in the uncertain light above, while a succession of hissing noises, sounding like *• sh-sh-sh " issued from the same direction ! The " bride " found it difficult to remove her eyes from that spot above, until at last the owners of the wonderful looking lieads (who seemed to have been rudely awakened from their afternoon siestas) decided to approach ! As the figures descended, revealing first, shoeless black-hosed feet, supporting spindle-shaped limbs, peeping from under not extiavagantly long red petti- coats, and Garcya's eyes wandered upward to the sour faces of two women (much resembling one another in harshness of feature, though differing greatly in height) no thought of their possible identity occurred to her ! As they approached, she involuntarily retreated ! In the half-light in the hall, she reached for the small wrap and satchel just placed on a little table near by, and was in the act of handing them to the women i»to take care of (believing them to be surprised maids of pier sisters-in-law) when Wilfrid entered. "Ah ! mes sceurs — Euphrosine, Alexandrine — glad to 3ee you both ! Garcya, my wife — my sisters !" Tableau ! ! ! Speechless from amazement, several seconds elapsed )efore Garcya collected herself sufficiently to extend ler hand to the ladies ! 62 LOOKING FOKWARD, When she did so, it was indignantly refused by Alex- andrine (the taller) with the remark that " as Madame had evidently remarked, they were unaccustomed to having their household arrangements interfered with at all hours of the day ; she would please excuse them from further intrusion." So saying, the lady turned and remounted the stair-case, followed by her sister, while Wilfrid and his young wife were left to their own reHections ! " Oh ! Wilfrid, I'm so sorry !" said the latter, soon as the ladies left. " I never imagined they were your sisters !'' — a re- mark, by the way, not calculated to restore content- ment to that young man's perturbed state of mind ! * '* I'll just go up to their rooms a bit — you'll not mind — you see the old girls are a bit ' set ' in their ways." " Oh ! yes, yes, go by all means. Please offer my apologies !" " Never ! why that wouldn't mend matters !" replied Wilfrid, as he bounded up the stair-oase, two steps at a time. Still with her hat on, (not having been asked to re- move it) tired from the long journey just ended, Garcya sat on a great xDaken hall-chair by the door where Wil- frid left her, unavoidablv hearing the word-skirmish which shortly began overhead. " L'^ffroute ! " screeched Alexandrine — her voice i trembling with rage ! "The idea of your bringing that llPiiiiiiili LOOKING FORWARD. 63 American into the family ! With her ill-bred insolence trying to insult us ! To insult de la Koches ! Don't open your mouth in hei defense, pauvre sot ({ue t'es ! Will teach her a lesson, tliough, she won't forget ! " , '' But sister, such looking objects as you were, would startle any one. Iteniember, my wife is scarcely seven- teen years old !" "'Seventeen years old !' ha ! ha ! Entends-tu, Phrose ! Shu looks thirty if she looks a day ! The sallow-faced nial eleve ! Oh ! i/'c know all her pedigree, thank good- ness, from Madame La Fontaine's letters ! The idea of your bringing one of tliose Americans, who marry with as much thought as thougli tliey were going to a matinee, into our family ! A woman without fortune — without even a uame l" " Hold, sister mine ! You've gone too far this time ! II' she 'had no name,' renjcnd)er I h.ive given her yours —respect that !" sliouted Wilfrid, with more dignity [and true manhood tlian he had ever before manifested. Ilunning downstairs, he found Garcya in tears ; realizing she must have heard the cruel words of his [sister, he bent tenderly over lier, and soothingly str-^ked :iie timid liand which stole atfritihtedly round his peck. The refreshments proffered by servants shortly after- vard, were left untasted. The glory of Montiaurier [aded for Garcya ! When she retired that night in the " home " she had )oked forward to, as a haven of rest and happiness — 64 LOOKING FORWARD. it was to no pleasant dreams — three graves usurped its place ! One (unknown, neglected, weed-overgrown) con- tained the ashes of her poor forsaken Spanish mother, and almost besido it, a shaft of marble towered Heaven-ward white and pure, piercing the moonbeams high above the pulseless heart of the man who had been all a father could be to her, whose last aspiration had probably been a prayer for her welfare ! And then another on a wave-lashed shining shore, where dusky faces wandered by the tide — but of that grave she dared not think — even in dreams — lest the horror of waking and finding another in her lost one's rightful place, should shatter reason ! Her first error in mistaking her new relatives for menials, and the easily interpreted astonishment of her manner when introduced, had done fatal work ! Hence- forward she knew instinctively, no truce or amnesty could ever be hoped for her, from their hands ! Un- consciously and innocently she herself had struck the key-note of her existence at Montlaurier — the sound it gave back was harsh — its echo reverberating through all her married life there 1 CHAPTEJ I. Early the morning after her ariivr' Garcya rose, de- termined as far as possible to win forgiveness for the " faux pas," which had initiated her entrance in Montlaurier the previous evening ! i:>un( lass. I )ast s| their WiJ itmosi irry Jtirej )om. LOOKING FORWARD. 6& Correctly believing early rising, and punctuality at meal time, from their very obsoleteness in the fashion- aiile world, would somehow prove acceptable otlerings propitiatory to the genii loci, much against natural inclination she was dressed and inspecting the horses Wilfred and tlie much — betitled — Montmorency had trotted out for her special admiration at the stables before seven o'clock a.m. 1 She had had time to have made discoveries of the lake, the parterres, and many other points of interest in the grounds, before she and Wilfrid entered the still vacant dining r ju\, where a log blazed on the hearth, its cheerful flames chasing away the chill of tlie early fall morning. Primly attired, their well-thumbed prayer books held tightly in their small hands, presently the sisters de la Pioche arrived ! Solemn morning greetings were inter- changed. Clearing her throat, as though some of her I-atin prayers had stuck fast there, Miss 'Phrose an* Dunced their " unfailing custom to attend six o'clock ass. Breakfast," she said, " was always served at half- ast seven. Wilfrid and Madame would please respect heir wishes in never keeping it waiting." Wilfrid who, like Garcya, seemed oppressed in an tmosphere of such sanctity as his sisters seemed to rry about witli them, hurried to the stables and his orses again, soon as he decently could, while his wife tired with the young ladies to their bright morning- om, where the business of the day was transacted and '66 LOOKING FORWAH), ^''tilif!'!! the morning papers religiously scanned for bargains, bankrupt, and " auction sales." Economy being a paramount virtue (according to the Misses de la Eoche) held in their estimation a place scarcely less exalted than the " holy commandments of the church." Muffled to tlie eyes with costly furs (when the mercury dropped to abnormally low ciphers below the freezing point) these thrifty ladies would besiege the counters of luckless tradesmen who had succumbed to fate (or creditors) for bargains in tlie filmy gauzes and muslins with which they bedecked themselves when the dog-star raged ! When panting multitudes sought shady glades where soft whispering breezes blew over clover lield.s, when the thermometer seemed ambitious to reach the l^oilini; point, they flitted fr>7 ii store to store, seeking " chea]) sales" in blankets, furs and heavy stuffs, whose very touch seemed sufficient to tlirow otjc into a state of copious perspiration ! Thus, by a scheme of calculation peculiar to them- selves, did they succeed in getting che better of trade, without decreasing nmch witli nil their purchases theii well regulated incomes ! Too occupied were these devout souls in doling out their charities, on strictly business principles, to ever waste a moment on any applicant for aid who came without " credentials" from some " home" or " liospice " of the church, however pitiful his looks — whatever were his needs I :im •■n LOOKING FORWARD. er " Tut 1 tut, man ! We give regularly to this, or that hospital — go there — you'll be attended to !" tae) were- wont to say to some poor wretch, who, for reasons the young ladies could not waste time to hear, had not first sought the sheltering arms of public charity ! What if the victim of misfortune (however brought about) should faint near their threshold (so long as he was not upon it) — " it was not iheir fault !" With easy consdfence they would re-enter their home, com- placently betaking themselves to " beads" and " litany" with zeal renewed 1 Heaven, to these young ladies' precise minds, was a beatified business mart 1 St. Peter never unlocked the golden gate of New Jerusalem (even to a de-la-Roche) without rigid comparison of " notes " — as to how balanced the respective accounts of " blessings render- ed " in exchange for " so much charities 1" Of all rtie unusual traits of character displayed by the twin heiresses, their devotion to one another, was most pronouiiCed. Inseparable in all things, Euphrosine I was but the echo of swarthy Alexandrine, in every thought and act ! Inheriting the Roman faith of their father's ancestors, jthey accepted it uiiquestioningly. Revolving in the circumscribed orbit of their own peculiar beliefs and personal experiences, they denied [importance (if not the possibility) of otner existing, creeds, etc., beyond its narrow limits — "what^/i^y knew lot could not be 1" 68 i^OOKING FORWARD. V:lii!i! ffl:i,|i;!:ir:'ai " Toleration for others' opinions " were terms syno- nymous with heresy, ignorance and mental aberration ! How persistently, after all, one half the world misun- 'derstands the other half ! Is anything more difficult to combat than honest misconception of others' motives, when ignorance of influences, which have produced shades of character unlike those we have ever known, has caused them ? Could psychologists, whose erudition seems so won- derful to the uninitiated, discover and place within our reach some " testometer " known to work according to psychic laws, by which sincerity among our fellows could be detected, upon what a millenium would we eater I Who can say, though, that " intuition," or what we call such, may not be developed some day to an ap- proximate condition ? No one denies the dog's wonder- ful instinct in discerning friends from foes ; why should man with reason, added to blind impulse, know less than his brute inferior ! Who shall set a limit to the possibilities of inven- tion ? Who, of thoughtful mind, that watches with almost bated breath the sweep of human discoveries as they float past him on the wings of the nineteenth century, but has not in his secret heart queried "if the keys of life, death and youth eternal might not yet be held by human hands ?" " The age is choral — for many sing 1 He who would .be heard must strike life's loudest string," indeed ! An LOUKINCr FORWARD. 69 syno- ition 1 lisun- tionest ice of iracter them ? won- lin our ding to fellows uld we vhat we an ap- wonder- y should now less ,f inven- ,h almost as they century, sysof life, held by ho would lead! An ma without a standard — an me in which individual effort leaps outside beaten pithways in all directions — an age in which, if saperriciahty and mediocrity teui- porarily usurp the place of merit, some extraordinary (if meritricious) qualities must place them, where they need must strike " life's loudest string '' to even get a hearing ! An age, when pessimists should tly to the ends of the earth — so great, so full of human sympathy it has become ! An age when the electric girdle which spans the globe has but to flash news of " famine, pestilence or flood," when back with speed of lightning ilies response " that ready hands, hearts, purses, lie at the disposition of the needy !" An age when peaceful arbitration bids fair to banish war ! Who can say but that these increasing demonstra- tions of love from man to man, off-spring of the Eternal source of love itself, is not the pyschic " open sesame " which will bring the schemes of what the world has heretofore called " visionaries " to fruitful issue ! The impedimenta of "hatred, malice, and uncharitable- ness" removed, we may become like gods — not men ! ^P ^p ^^ ^^ ^F The walls of the Misses do la Roche's sleeping apart- ments were decorated with pictures of agonized saints and martyrs. Cheap chromos of blasphemously ugly madonnas (robed in vivid tones of reds, yellows and greens) hung aspiringly near their ceilings ! Even the divine Person of our Lord had not been spared by the desecrating hand of the cheap picture vendor ! There, over the white couch of modest Alex- E., 'il I I k WPH 70 LOOKING FORWARD. andrine, He was depicted in a colored atrocity, labelled (and libelled) the " Kesurrection," as emerging from the sepulchre, more innocent of covering than the regula- tion ballet " figurante," and in attitude not unlike her's when about giving her audience a " pas seul !" Small altars wreathed with artificial flowers (thriftily- preserved from ball dresses of past seasons) reposed on brackets in odd corners. Statues of saints, to match all the months of the calendar, stood upon them ready to be changed accord- ing to the necessities of those who should invoke their special intercessions ! Belore these miniature shrines, stuffy little coal-oil lamps, and lighted bougies, burned to all hours of the morning. Lavish indeed was the expenditure of coal oil at Montlaurier when " renting season " arrived ! Strange to say (events and incidents at variance will sometimes swing into such unexpected juxtaposition) the best paying tenants of the de-la-Roches," were "publicans," the date for the renewal of whose leases recurred during the days annually devoted to "temper- ance lectures" by the ladies' of St. Guildenes' Chureh, where the Misses de-la-Eoche "made" their devotions ! The niceties of her new relatives' creeds, consistencies etc., were of course matters of gradual revelation to Garcya. The buoyancy of her disposition, the novelty of her new surroundings, temporarily effaced some of the un- pleasant incidents attending her late arrival. 'lliliii LOOKING FORWARD. 71 When Wilfred passed the morning-room window, coming from the carriage house, and tapped on the shutters to attract her attention, telling her to put on her hut and join him in a little stroll through the grounds, adding "she could wait for him in the drawing- room and just look round the oii place" the invitation was hailed with delight ! Eager for new discoveries, she was ready to join her husband in a few moments availing herself of his permission to visit the "drawing-room" while she waited for him. Its heavy doors, whose hinges stiff from disuse worked with a creaky sound, swung at her touch on the door handle, and in the semi-darkness so dear to the twin mistresses of the house, Garoya entered the great mausoleum-like room. To admit light her first act naturally was to pusli aside the heavy looking win- dow draperies ; as she did so, the first of a long series of surprises greeted her ! What a triumph of falsehood ! the material of which the curtains were composed yeilded to her touch with rattling sound — nothing more substantial remaining in her hand than embossed paper ! What a confusion of odds and ends, of all sorts and conditions of bric-a-brac the daylight revealed ! Wil- fred had once, in his description of his home, referred to this particular room as a "museum." Garcya now un- derstood his reason for doing so ! Antique and modern, real and artificial, genuine and spurious, met together in friendly communion, on terms •*. » 72 LOOKING FORWARD. a i! of perfect equality in this curious apartment ! "articles of vertu" (save the mark 1) of little value save cheapness comparative to their original price — "articles" which had been knocked down (literally it would seem ! ) by the auctioneer's hammer, displayed themselves on fine old cabinets brought over from France during the days of the first seigneur-de-la-Koche ! Much-cemented Psyches and Venuses kept company unblushingly with a dainty " Mater Admirabilis " in one niche, while a parian Bacchante, revelled and disported herself before the chaste orbs of saint Francois d'Assise, on another ! Passing disrespectfully along a rather formidable look- ing array of defunct de-la-Koches, who gazed at her from yellow canvasses on the walls, to some really fine "mas- ter-pieces" hanging near them, Garcya's steps brought her directly to the piano. What spirit of mischief possessed the girl to open the old instrument of torture, were hard to tell — but she did so ! Somehow the "Last Hope" struck her fancy as much in keeping with the sere and yellow condition of its key board 1 The soul of music had departed from the poor old in- strument, when its unmusical owners had consigned it to a forgotten limbo in the drawing-room years before ! " ! for a touch of the piono tuners vanished hand ! " laughed Garcya ! " This noise is the poor thing's death rattle," she said, running her fingers over the keys. At that moment LOOKING FORWARD. 73 looking out from the second window, whose blinds had been thrown open, she beheld the frowsy head of a kitchen maid appear from the depths of some (un- known-to-her,) recesses in the basement beneath ! Then the whole form loomed into fall viow, followed by an- other, neater, trimmer looking figure, (evidently that of an upper-housemaid,) while last, not least, (in matter of size) appeared the imposing apparition of Napoleon B. de Montmorency ! Such sacrilegious sounds of revelry had been un- known at Mountlaurier for many a year ! The astonish- ed hirelings had stolen out on the grounds to thor- oughly enjoy the novelty ! "What I've done, can't be undone now. anyway ! " said the musician to herself, not yet realizing the extent of her audacity. " I'll just give the poor things a jig ! They'll be able to make out the measure if they don't the melody ! " The "jig" was given ! Had the cadences of an Orph- ean lyre floated out through the open window, the effect had not been more marvellous upon the group of ser- vants on the hill side ! On flew Garcya's fingers, faster and faster shuffled the clumsy feet outside, endeavour- ing to keep pace with her music ! We shall never know ito what excesses the terpsichorean gymnastics of Mr. \N. B. de Montmorency might have led himl At the moment the frolic seemed at its highest, a vision of [wrath in the person of Miss Alexandrine, appeared at )ne door, pouring forth vials of French vituperation — whilst Miss Phrose followed in the rear, her features 74 LOOKING FORWAKl). distorted with smothered rage ! Overwhelmed at last with a sense of her criminality, Garcya hurried through the open front door of the drawing room, and as fast as almost flying feet would carry her, hastened out to the lawn where, in the course of a few moments, she was joined by Wilfred, stern and very displeased in look and manner ! "What does all this mean ?"he said on reaching her. " what shall I do ! what shall I do " laughed Garcya merrily, not as much in dismay as circumstances would seem to warrant to Wilfred's way of thinking ! 'And you can laugh, after creating all this disturb- ance?" remarked the gentleman. " Forgive me dear, please do, I can't help it ! but II shall never be pardoned now, shall I?" pleaded the cul- prit musician, coaxingly trying to steal her arm roundl her husband's neck. " Don't Wilfred ! Please don't be cross ! I really didii'tl understand the extent of my folly till your sigtersl came. Upon my word I haven't laughed so, since—" she was about to say — " Keg and I played pranks odI Ethelred at our studies." — a shadow crept over her| face and she substituted " for two years ! " I'll be obliged to you, if you'll restrain your childislJ impulses in future," answered Wilfred, roughly pushiua from him the little hand trying to nestle on his arm. Believe me Wilfred, I will ! I was foolish enong| to think this my home, that it wouldn't be so tea fuT to open the piano, but I'll never sin again in LOOKING FORWARD. 75 way you may be sure," said Garcya, tears now glisten- ing on her long lashes. Turning toward Wilfred, she said half tearfully " You'r not half so cross as you'd make me believe. I'm sure you'd have enjoyed the fun, of it yourself had you been with me a few moments before your sisters arrived ! " "Excuse me please 1" " Wilfred, it all goes with the paper curtains and the chamber of horrors, doesn't it ? " "The what?" " Chamber of horrors " that's what I call your sisters Lroom, with all those dreadful pictures in it, staring at |one night and day ! I saw them through the open door IS I came down stairs this morning ? "Garcya!" " Why, you yourself often spoke to me about the fodd things at home' don't you remember ? How dread- ful it must be to be good in the manner your sisters ^re! If people have to adopt such ways to get to [eaven I — . almost think — . I'd rather no somewhere llse when I died ! " r>^ CHAPTER IX.] Autumn waned. Canadian winter, that so much readed — so much misreprese .ed season, arrived ! The unfortunate opening episodes in Garcya de-la- [oche's life at Montlaurier had left ineffacable traces ! Everything seemed against her — her manners, her 76 LOOKING FORWARD. naturally joyous disposition, her uatiouality and religion — evm her lovely face and extreme youth were regarded as audacious caprices by her sisters-in-law — as standing insults to their increasing years and waning attractions ! Uncomprehending (and willing to remain so) they looked upon the young matron as a foreign and grudg- ingly-to-be-tolerated element in th-eir household. They believed (or affected to believe) her capable of any ex- travagance of conduct ; and on that plea she was de- prived of many little innocent joys which otherwise might have been hers. Belonging undeniably to Montreal's old aristocracy, the doors of both French-Canadian and English *' society " were open to the de-la-Roches. Many were the cards and courteously worded notes of invitation intended for young " Madame de la Roche " which found their destination in Miss Alex- andrine's waste-paper basket ! Wilfrid, more and more absorbed in his sports, his horses, and his sporting friends, saw less and less ofj Montlaurier. As winter advanced, and those clear bright daysj came, when the intense cold of Canada is scarcely I realized (so dry and pure is her atmosphere) when herj sky is almost Italian in its blue depths, when her sun- shine is so dazzling in the brightness reflected fromj snow-covered streets, Garcya found her sole recreation] in taking afternoon walks. Her experience of good society gained at her elegaiid .OOKING FORWARD. 77 eligiou >(>arded ianding actions 1 5o) they I grud;4- l. They any ex- was de- itherwise Lstocracy English ded notes [le de la Liss Alex- sports, his nd less of ,right days is scarcely! :) when her I en her suu- iected froffil .e recreationl t her elegaiJ home at New York, had taught her enough of the world's conventionalities to convince her that the slights heaped upon her, in her isolation were intentional. Calls were received and returned — elegant equipages drove up to the old-fashioned door and departed. Laughter from careless lips (sometimes of young girls like herself in years) came rippling up to the room where she sat always alone, her head often pressed against a window-pane, covered with mist formed from her [tears but she was never asked to join the gay Lhr(jng in the drawing-room below. "Oh ! I am accursed 1 God has forsaken me — if there is a God !" she would bitterly moan as recollection of those cruel words in the Morning Courier two years previous, stood before her again ! "The illegitimate child of a poor Spanish actress." " Yes, tlud is why they all shun me ! I can see it ! Even Wilfrid is growing colder and colder 1" Some days she would be seized by a desire to hear I'the " Morning Service " pronounced in some church ^ where the ritual was the one familiar to her childhood -then she would shake her head and say to herself sadly, "What is the use of it all ? Those who professed uost charity in ' father's' church had no compassion for mc ! What is the use of it at all ?"**** " Juggernaut." Summer clothed the gray old city of Montreal with [ew beauties ! The season for fetes and processions, so jar to the French-Canadian hear^, arrived ! Prepara* 78 LOOKING FOKWARP. I' 'Mi i iiiillii tions for " Fete-Dieu " were active. Arches of ever- greens seeiiievl to have ^rown miraculously in their places over m^ght I I>eep in their emerald recesses were mossy niches, where half-concealed little children, robed in white, with golden wings upon their shoulders, were' to pose as "seraphs," and shower dowers upon the " Blessed Eucharist," to be borne beneath them by rev- erend hands in the procession of the morrow ! Much had been said of this great event, to Garcya, by Alexandrine and Kuphrosine, who lost no opportu- nity of edifying their young relative. With much curiosity Garcya accompanied her hus- band and his sisters when the great dav arrived to witness the pageant from a convenient window on Place d'Armes. What a sight for prosy every-day America ! It was as though a wand of magic had been waved before one's eyes, transforming one to mediaeval Spain or Italy! Waving banners, soldiers in brilliant uniforms, mem- bers of religious sodalities, magnificent with gaudy regalias, whole congregations of "sisters," and white robed first-communion children chanting the "canticles,'] accompanied by dozens of loudly playing bands ol music. Priests, lawyers, physicians, judges, walked ioi the ranks of the processionists I The whole vast con course of people preceeded the " Blessed Sacrament which was borne by the archbishops' consecrated han under a gorgeous golden canopy, covered with wavii jplumes ! Priests and acolytes followed and preceed the Host, wafting ii, cense, while the great bell of t LOOKING FOUWAFv;). 79 cathedral thundered peal after peal (of detiiuice at unbelief, it would seem) and all the chimes of the ad- jacent tower of Notre Dame added their clamor! When the Host was borne past the window vhere the de-la-Koches sat, the sisters and Wilfrid followed the example of the multitudes below in the street, prostrating themselves ! Moved by the impressiveness of the scene, she knew uoL why (we are often such ill-interpreters of our own emotions), Garcya seemed particularly grave. Remarking this fact, Alexandrine recalled her to herself by asking, "What she thought of the fete ?" and [•(iarcya, yielding to her customary frankness, with the [din of the bands, the clangor of the bells, still ringing in her ears, made possibly the most disastrous mistake )f all her disastrous association with her sisters-in-law )y answering, " She could think of notliing like it but Ui'jjiernaut ! l'» CHAPTER X. rr About fifteen miles from Montreal, on a branch of he Ottawa river, is a small collection of quaint little [ouses (clustering around an imposing (jatholic church) diich modestly styles itself the village of " R.'viero- js- Prairies." The population of its neighbo.'hood )nsists of a few thrifty JucMtants whose earthly am- [tion rises little higher than the gold-tassled corn of ieir well-tilled fields. Although, when the wind is from the south it brings 80 LOOKING FORWARD. t sounds from a great city where are all kinds of modern factories, in the " village " and farm-houses of the good people of Riviere-des-Prairies, the primitive spinning wheel (such as our grandmothers used, and whose drone- like mnsic they so loved to hear) still echoes through yawning doors! The river opposite the " village " is studded with pretty wooded islands, while below, small rapids so in- terrupt its channel, it becomes unnavigable — to which fact, doubtless, the angler owes many hours of amuse- ment free of intrusion from the outside world 1 The drive from the city via Sault-aux-Recollets to Riviere-des-Prairies, is marked at intervals by way-side shrines and crosses erected by pious hands in perpetu- ation of important epochs in the spiritual lives of their owners ! After leaving the hot and dusty city, eager in vain pursuit of ephemeral joys of the world, symbols of any kind of living faith strike the beholder's mind with pleasant suggestion of possible better things to come ! What (in such a spot as Riviere-des-Prairies) more soothing than to recline in one's cushioned canoe, and listen to the soft music of the vesper-bell — whose silver notes come wafted past its wooded isles, across its rippling waters ? To lie and meditate on the sublimity of all the beatitudes while one drifts idly — now and then plucking a flaunting pond lily as it flings its white disc athwart one's face — drifting now under shadow of blossoming slirubs which fringe the banks — now mid- stream, drifting, drifting Such was the place i LOOKING FORWARD. 81 odern 3 good inning drone - lirough d with s so in- ) whicli amuse - )llets to way-side perpetu- of their ui vain Is of any ind with to come! ies) more moe, and lose silver across its sublimity -now and its white shadow oi -now mid- the place I selected for Garcya's banishment, until the coming autumn, when Wilfrid proposed taking her to a home of his own. After that last crime, outrage "insult to the faith,'* implied by her fearful allusion to " Juggernaut," it had been aecided Montlaurie^ should no longer be an abiding place for "the Am^.rican." " Take away your cross, Wilfrid ! Wc can't bear her any longer ! Send her away this summer where she'll be in no danger of getting those horrid books (Ruskiu, Spencer, Huxley) she delights to waste time reading. Get the romance out of her foolish head. Send her where she'll see no one but habitants — only take her away, we'll endure her insolence no longer !" Such had been the auto de f^ of the Misses de la Roche the day of that much talked about "Fele Dieu " procession. The old stone farm house of pere Sarrasin, which had the honor of Mr. de la Roche's choice as a summer boarding ')1 'ce for his wife, stood on a slight elevation facing the river, midway between the " Sault " and vi^'a' 3 of Riviere-des-Prairies. Children of several generations had played at "hide and seek" in its windy old garret. Successively they had grown to man and womanliood, had played their little parts in life, then lain their burdens down, and with white hands folded on silent itreasts, slept their last sleep in the village churchyard, and yet scarcely a stone of the old, old house haii l}een wrested from its place by all the blustering winter's storms which h id swept over it ! 82 '.OOKING FORWARD. Still, in siunmer, industrious little birds called "ramo- neurs" (chimney-sweeps), made good their titles to their name nesting in the southern chimney — the only dis- used portion of the ancient edifice ! The vandal speculator had notyet set liis sacrilegious foot upon the sylvan landscape surrounding the place ; such as the dawn of this century beheld the scene, it lay outspread to the beholder of Garcya's day. From the upper-story western window one looked out over honey-scented buckwheat fields, in the midst of which, a gaunt old windmill's dilapidated sails flapped idly in the summer breeze ! The July morning mere Sarrasin's guest arrived, the last touch of preparation to receive her had just been completed. The cool white "laiterie" had been robbed of all the golden cream its shining pans contained, to cover luscious berries brought down from the w<)od bv " 'tit Louis," the farmer's orphan lad-of-all work. The tempting fruit kept company with many homely deli- cacies on the snowy table spread in the middle of the great living-room, and what a festal air had the an- cient apartment that summer day, with its chains of freshly-gathered ox-eyed daisies swinging from picture to picture on the whitewaslied walls, and its bunches of gaudy peacock feathers jauntily nodding over the brass dial of a "grandfather's clock'' in the corn. r ! When Garcya entered, glancing involuntarily around at the evident preparation and forethought displayed for her benefit on all sides — from the living-room to her LOOKINr; FORWARD. own pretty apartment above stairs — where the sweet odor of last winter's apples clung yet to the walls — and wonderfully becrimped " dimity " curtains told tales of much labor expended in their " getting up," her heart rejoiced at the quaint homeliness of it all ! Mentally she contrasted it with that other reception a few months previous at Montlaurier, — that reception which had so chilled her I A hasty " good bye " kiss from her husband, when she descended from her room, and he was gone to enjoy the round of summer-resort gayeties familiar to his bachelor days ! For a moment she stood irresolute on the threshold, looking down the lane, where Wilfred's horses were fast whirling him out of sight and hearing, then looking Hushed for her seeming lack of courtesy in so ignoring the presence of her somewhat abashed host and hostess, as compensation she accepted with little appetite the proffer of refreshments prepared with so much care and ceremony. After all it was a pleasant meal, with kindly words and honest welcome and meriy plans for all the coming summer months. With monsieur 'tit Louis' grotesque features peeping at them from outside the door, where he had been ban- ished on account of his unkenq)t condition. Tradition had it as a fact that " pepere " Sari-asin regularly called in the services of his dog to catch the urchin Sunday mornings, when his wife performed the dual operations of straightening out his sunset locks and 84 LOOKING FORWAKD. removing; the weekly accumulations of mother earth from his freckled person ! Evidently the dog had not been on hand that morning, and there sat master Louis, perched on an improvised box-seat, beaming upon them a smile of sucli expansiveness it threatened total eclipse of the rest of his variegated physiognomy. " But madame has no appetite ? I'ere Sarrasin, you talk too much, that's what's the matter," said mere Sarrasin to her mild-eyed better-lialf, who had scarcely ventured twenty words, but looked unutterably kind things. " Men are such thoughtless creatures ! Mais, mais ! what is the matter ? Sainte Vierge ! The lady weeps ! What have we done " t " " Nothing, nothing ! " Madame is lonesome, it may be ? Monsieur will soon come back to see her, be sure of that." "^No, no ! I'm never lonesome," said Garcya, in tone much belieing her words. " Well then, don't be offended if I say so ? Perhaps madame is a little wee bit lonesome for someone else ? " " What can she mean ? queried the astonished guest mentally as there did arise a "someone" in her mind — someone she nmst avoid thinking of as though his very name were pestilent ! Even the memory of what lie was — of what he might have been confronted her too often now ! His spectre no longer waved her back from happiness ithcd she knew could never be her gift on earth), but somehow it stood between her peace, her duty, and LOOKING FORWARD. 85 herself. When Wilfred (alas how often !) came to her now, with blood-shot eyes, wine-Hushed face, soiling his handsome mouth with language unfit for any loving wife to hear, slie could not pardon as she would ; there stood " that other " in her fancy and her young heart Jiardcnad toward the living whilst dreaming of the dead ! " Madame ! " " I mean I hope you'll not be angry at my talk, it may not interest a young lady like you. We once had a little one, and she was very fair like niadame ; and oh, mon Dieu we loved her well! Had she been left us, no matter how rich and good, she might have found a husband, I thought she would sometAmes miss her poor old mother and perhaps madame was thinking of her mother ? Is it so ?" ' ' " I never knew my mother ! She died v/hen I was born," said Garcya, a great lump seeming to fill her throat, and hot tears falling unchecked upon her slen- der folded hands ! Pere Sarrasin sud lenly found he " was needed at the barn," and softly stole from the room. 'Tit Louis slid down from his post near the window, indulging (when at safe distance from the house) in a yell, which would have honored a Cheyenne chief as a warwhoop, and scampered toward the field ! In the silence which followed, the childless old woman, regardless of the barriers conventionality placed between her fair guest and herself, crossed the room and gently stroked Garcya's soft hair. 86 LOOKING FORWARD. There seemed magic in the touch of those honest brown hands to the motherless fiirl. From that moment somehow, a bond of sympathy bound these two, which length of succeeding years could never break. ♦ CHAPTER Xr. What a delight it was to be awakened by the morn- ing sunshine dancing through the maple boughs, shading her bedroom window — to be called to the pleasures of a new day amid new scenes by birds, whose tiny throats seemed bursting witli exultant melody ; to descend to the great living room, where sweet odors of new-mown hay, of fragrant fields, of myriad summer blossoms blended into one lan- guorous breeze, coming through the open door ! And then — sweetest of all— to see genuine dt light at her presence mirrored in the honest faces of her aged host and hostess ! To note the many little nameles- acts of thought- fulness they constantly displayed for her comfort, was experience so new, so unexpected, Garcya's heart bounded with joy at the sweet novelty of all her pleasant surroundings. Before a fortnight she ha;. when the moon i oae round and red, with promiine >t a " hot to- morrow," «!he wmild summof. over to farmer Sarrasin's the lad- and i.issies, wik), after their long day's laV>or ended, louuged idly about the door-steps of neighl»oriug LOOKING FORWARD. 87 farm-houses, and with long preamble and much show of awe-inspiring preparation, fill their untutored minds with all the tales of folk-lore, witches, goblins, she could summon back from her early girlhood day's, in Lynwood — those days when she stole tip-toe to her little room in the vine-wreathed old rectory, to read Anderson and Grimm until the candle sputtered, and went out, and jumping into bed, she scarcely dared peep from under the coverlet, only now and then tim- idly uncovering her eyes to satisfy herself whether the tire-flies, shining as they darted to and fro in the branches outside the window, were not really "Zwerge" carrying precious stones to Alfheimar ! .. - v. When she entertained her rustic audience with the wonderful adventures of Loki, the serpent Midgard, the huge wolf Fenris (with his twisted bridle of snal. .;s<, embellishing her recitals with all the blood curd • ny horrors imagination could invent, she would enter into the spirit of lier legends with such whole-souled enthusiasm, her affrighted listeners huddled closer and closer to one another (" goose-flesh creeping all over them"), until a shaip little scream from Garcya sent them scam])erin,u down the hill-side in all diiections, half frightened out of their wits ! Wilfred flitted from one resort to another. His young wife rarely saw him more than once in a fortnight. AVhen he did honor the farm with his presence, it was plainly to be seen the visits were more for appearance sake than anything else. To the most inexperienced student of human nature, his bloated face, lieavy eyes, 88 LOOKING FORWARD. restless manners, told their tale of reckless dissipation. That his heart was no longer in her keeping (if really it had ever been) Gareya realized more and more. Her whilom friend, Mad. LaFontaine resided in France. Correspondence closed between that lady and herself,, so now, with only cruel reminders of " what might have been " echoing and re-echoing in her heart, every tie binding her to that happy past of scarcely three years ago was apparently severed. Wilfred had paid his third flying visit to the farm, had left his wife, with a careless " au revoir " on his lips — had said during the half day spent with her, ** perhaps he might not get out again to see her before he came to take her to the liome he'd purchased in town. He had so many places to visit yet, — the sea-side, yachting down the coast," etc., etc. The novelty of her rural life began to wear off ! Even the good nature of her country associates failed to excite the enthusiasm of those first days spent among them I Down in her heart there brooded a deep unrest. Almost longingly she had anticipated this lust visit from her husband, hoping some of the affection he boasted for her less than a year before, might yet return and help to make life more like the blissful dream she felt in its sheltering love and tenderness it might become ! But this visit ended as had the others. Here she stood after his departure down at the gate, looking at a length of rafts which filled the river before her that day, listening to the songs of bronze-faced LOOKING FORWARD. 89- " voyageiirs," who dipped their oars in rythm with the refrain of an ancient Norman melody ! '* Mam(^re " came toward her, clanking her sabots in measure with a tune sung in her cracked old voice, while she swung an empty water-pail from hand to hand. She heard 'tit' Louis merrily whistling as he- performed some humble work about the farm. " They are all happy but myself," she said, gravely, as she turned and walked to the house by an unused pathway. "Everyone is happy ! I too will be so ! I will for- (jet the past ! I will wring content from discontent. I will make a happiness for myself that nothing can steal from me. What have I done that I should be forever sad ? Yes, I will be an artist. I will create ! That which shall spring to life from the force of my * will shall be my happiness ! / will be selfish also \ I'll not be a Chateaubriand, mourning over ruins, of lost hopes ! I'm born to-day ' I'll have no past ! " Straight- way running up to her room, producing her color-box (whose lid was soon an improvised easel, resting against her knee), the fair philosopher, full of heroically iconi- clastic ideas as " to all that had hec7i" sought a fa\ jrite retreat under shadow of tender young trees beyond the mill. Enamoured of nature since her baby days, she had become a true voluptuary of the woodland. That she was no mean historian of the pretty " gal- lantries " and " tender episodes " of animal life in bramble and thicket, many sketches in her well-filled;^ I !90 LOOKING FORWARD. portfolio amply attested. It would seem, too, that flowers and birds had come as willing models for her brush. "Now she wouh work — she Mould t ansmit to canvas all those t-eam-tinty floating tiirough her brain in the dear old days when — oh — wlien ? " No, no, not in any days that were! She meant she would create new days, new faces, idealize them ; make their lines historic in beauty. As her first ' study ' she would depict some knight of media val chivalry, one with generous soft eyes, with glaive and graceful chlameys ! " Sunshine glintJft^ through trees glori- fied her bright hair, from which her large hat had fallen, as she sat on the mossy ground, leaning against the stump of a fallen tree. As she remained there, hour after hour at her task, the wondrous face be- fore hji'grew and grew, until the artist, too absorbed to realize she was translating lier licart to her canvas — this artist who would have no ''past" (when her work began to near completion), with affrighted eyes recog- nized she had no "present " — her past was incffaaable I it was Eeginald's face that looked out from the easel ! "What have I done? what have I done?" she moaned I 'Is there no oblivion for me ? Must his face haunt me 'til no other's can be grand and beauti- ful 1 I'll never, never finish this ! Who knows but this might have been the one success of my life ! I'll never finish i-t ; it shall rest with my flag as it is." An old solflier had once given Mr. Wyndhame the tattered remnant of a flag found tightly clasped in the LOOKING FOKWAKD 91 hand of a dead young comrade on the battlefield of ettysburgh. The minister had given it to Garcya, and the two had woven a pretty romance round the life and death of the young standard-bearer ! The precious relic had never left her possession, and to-day it lay carefully wrapped in a silken sheath in Mad. de la Roche's color- box. Unfolding it reverently she enclose;! her after- noon's unfinished work within its crumbling folds. '' Hero to hero ! My country's and my own," she said with an aching void, like the echo of a lost chord of divine music vibratmfin her heart as she walked homeward through long shadows cast by the sun, now sinking below a horizon gorgeous with fiery clouds. CHAPTER XII. " But I must see St. Ann's before I leave, you know ! Can I have old Blanche for a good-bye ride, pepere ?" " Of Course Madame can have her ! But its a long, long ride out there, J warn you ; and there's nothing to see ; its just like here. The river's all blocked up with islands tliat you can't see across ! " " All blocked up with islands •: You're not very romantic poor pepere are you ? " " If its romantic to like such places, no indeed. Give me a clean river you can see across ! All those fields, too, that madame likes so well up yonder, all cut up with hills and nasty little streams. — I suppose you English folks call them romantique too ! " IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ >^ &?/ :/ I.C I.I 1.25 '-ilM ilM 1 22 12.0 1.8 U 1111.6 V] <^ /^ VI e. e, % > % y o /y 7 w Photographic Sciences Corporation iV ^^ s \ ft ^A 6^ <^ <'^- 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 145B0 (716) 872-4503 r^ > -92 LOOKING FORWARD. " Wliy of course we do !" " Give me a good flat field for potatoes and cabbages, that's the roraantique for us ! " " You dear old practical soul I But you don't object to others being ' romantique,' do you pepere ? I do so wish to see St. Ann's where Moore wrote the 'Canadian « »» Boat-song ' " You see, madame, we poor folks know nothing about music, we never lieard about Monsieur Moore's songs, I suppose he was romantique ? " " Oh, very much so ! " laughed Garcya, " but he was not a musician pepere, but a poet, — a still more useless animal I think you'll say. As I leave you for good, so soon, you'll trust old Blanche with me once more, and let me go where tlie river's so dreadfully 'blocked up with islands' won't you ? " "Yes, yes. I'll go get a feed of oats for the nag, and you can go tc see your friend Monsieur Moore soon as you like, madame." " I fear you haven't oats enough on the farm to feed him for such a journey, as I would have to take, if I would like to call on *Mons. Moore ' to-day, pepfere ! ' The young lady stood at the door addressing her last words to space, for farmer Sarrasin had hobbled •toward the barn before she had time to finish her flentence ! In half an hour she was on her antiquated mount, and in the early afternoon — two hours later arrived at Jier destination. The old white house made memorable mm LOOKING FOKWAKI). 9a by the poet's visit still stooti in the historic villa'ased. The invitation was accepted. Another moment, and Garcya sprang from her saddle to the piazza, old Blanche was led to comfortable quar- ters, and the trio — priest, sister and guest were mutually introducing themselves I •94 LOOKING FOIiWAKD Little thought the pilgrim of the storm that evening, that the moment she crossed the threshold of that country presbytery, new life opened to her beyond its portals, so silently, with such apparent " accident "' do the supreme, the pivotal incidents cf our existences steal upon us ! Born to the purple, with divirje right to command, looked father Bonange, as he stood beside his mild- eyed, middle-aged sister welcoming his guest. Kingly ! With that gracious ease and dignity, that gentle condescension — the prerogative only of great souls ! Possessing a magnet of sympathy and tact which drew unto himself with little effort, the inmost secrets of young and old, little wonder was it cur^ Bouange became a hero to all who came within range of his personal influence ! Above average height, majestic in carriage, the sombre folds of his .soutane seemed to borrow new dig- nity from the bearing of its wearer. His rich auburn locks, slightly tinged with silver (undisfigured by ton- sure), swept back a I'artist from a broad, white brow, unlined by the fifty-five years of his life, as an infant's. Deep-brown eyes, whose fire was youthful in its inten- sity, illumined a pale face, Grecian in purity of •\xt- line. A smile which seemed to carry the'brightness of heaven in its radiant good nature, parted his lips, as he bowed over Garcya's outstretched hand, and in per- fect English, with the courteous grace of manner pecu^ liar to the French Canadian gentleman, said, " Madame LOOKING FORWARD. 95 de-la-lioche, my sister and I are iiiuch indebted to the elements this evening! We are fond of "entertaining strangers " for selfish reasons 1 More than once, " we have thereby entertained angels unaware ! Ah ! you think us complimentary, I see, by your manner ! " " I think you very Mattering ! " " Indeed ! We priests are gt-nerally considered such bug-bears by you protestants, we nmst try to be amia- ble, even at the risk of being accused of tlatterv you see ! " "It would not be necessary with me, sir; and be- sides, I am not a Protestant ! " " Ah ! The de-la-Kochcs are not strangers to me, madame. Somehow, 1 seemed to have understood you were. Surely, you are not witli us " ? " Oh, no. I'm a mystic, I think — a pagan of some kind. The de-la-Iioches will tell you so, I'm sure!" said Garcya, mischievously. " Why, I firmly believe these woods are full of fauns and satyrs — that the trees have their attending deities ! " " And madame is high-priestess of our pretty wood- lands — is it so ? " " I like them well enough to be ! I'm a transmi- grationist over the bargain I think. Somehow all this lovely river-side country holds me spell-bound, and appears so familiar, when I get out under tuu maple boughs, I seem to have known the place before ! I can only account for the feeling in believing that in some dead generation I once visited these glimpses of the moon ! " 96 LOOKING FORWARD. "When Madame was par example — what dainty •creature ? " " A beaver ! " " Ah, sly little lady ^ Its my turn to cry ' flatterer ! ' As madame knows, the majjlc and heaver 2lXq the modest emblems of our nationality! Thanks for the pretty compliment — it shall entitle you to substantial reward," said the cure, addinji, as he turned to leave them, " I shall anticipate the pleasure of meeting you ladies in the dining-room in just fifteen minutes, until our symposium. — Madame de-la-Koche, au revoir ! The " tea " partaken of with her new acquaintances, proved very enjoyable to Garcya. When she re-entered the little " parloir " with her reverend host, the con- tinued down-pour of rain was hailed with much pleasure, as it gave reasonable sanction for prolonging her visit. " I suppose Madame attends the English Cathedral, when in town ?" " No sir. I was serious about my paganism, but it would be in shocking taste for me to express the true state of my religious sentiments here. Please don't question me !" " Well ! Well ! tliat is an unusual speech ! Surely Madame is too young to affect the misanthrope ! " " I am not so young as you may believe, father Bonange, although I'm only eighteen. Don't you think events — not years — are milestones in life's journey, to some people ?" " Years are not always the measure of one's age, I'll mm LOOKING FORWAHD. 97 admit ; but they are fair criteria to estimate most people by as a rule. Perhaps Madame will enlighten me as to views which may make her a savant at eighteen. I'll promise not to be ' shocked ' if she will. Who knows what revelations await me !" " 'You jest at scars, who perhaps never felt a wound.' " " Little friend look at me, with a load of years more than double your own ! Do you think the half century which is whitenin'' this head of mine has left me no scars ?" The cur6 ran his hand through his heavy locks, then shook them out like the tawny mane of a lion as he spoke. " You don't look much time-wounded father," laughed Garcva. " Neither does the figure before me look bowed down with a very heavy weight of woe ! Appearances are not always to be trusted, n'est ce pas ?" " They are not then — for I've had some very real sorrow — and have some still. Two years ago I had an agony which changed my heart. God, Christ, with all His promises, vanished from my life when I called upon him ! Since then I have believed in nothing ! catholicif and protestants seem both alike to me. Each appears trying to work out a dreadful salvation with fear and trembling ; each so occupied about it, he has neither time or care to waste upon his neighbor even if I hat neighbor faints by the way." " Surely you do not visit the errors of her children upon any church." 98 LOOKING FORWAPD. *'Th, fntlier ?" said (rarcya, her l>rii. ' Imperial federation ' come next in order. As though we had been stricken with sudden madness, to think of more intimately grafting ourselves to a fast decaying branch of monarchy across an ocean, when the young tree of the republic — full of strength and vigor, grows at our side. ! And so the farce goes on ! it must a while longer !" " Why, Father Bonauge, if one believed half one read, we're on the verge of revolution — and anarchy; we're top-heavy and torn to pieces with race troubles and complications enough to ruin a dozen governments !" "Why, can't you see, these exaggerations are the anti-annexationists' stock-in-trade ? But we're on the eve of a revolution however — a very silent one — which will sweep away the last vestige of imperialism from the western hemisphere ! Those ubiquitous news- gentlemen will not tell you that, nor will they mention the crises the republic has sailed through triumphantly, crises which would have plunged any other country into a dozen civil wars, instead of the one which effaced the only blot on the Union's escutcheon — the curse of slavery ! That was God's war. If it takes years and years for the dusky freedman to attain anything like position co-equal with that of his white fellow citizen, though local 'race troubles' may crop up in the land where he so lately stood under the rod of a master, we may be certain a way of peace will be provided out of all the race feuds popular journalism can conjure up — for the blackman is a ward of Heaven in his half helplessness !" 4m LOOKmG FORWARD. 105 "You takt3 ail oiicoaraging view of things, father !" " That is tha only view to take of them ! I do look at our future with the eyes of a blessed optimism, for I've measured the situation — it has been my study for years — and I see facts justifying my doing so ! In annexation I Hud the solution of oiir own race and creed dilferences. Tnere's no question of VEnglish,' 'Irish,' and 'Frencli Americans' in the U. S. All 'are 'Americans,' pur et simple — and proud to call themselves suah ! retainin,'; or abandoning their mother-tongue at willj o' In annexation, with the influx of Yankee capital, emigration and Yankee 'push,' which will come with it, I see Montreal a rival of Xew York. In the last few years, it's true, we've made strides ahead, but nothing to what we would have done under 'American regime !" " Would England allow her finest colony to slip out of her grasp peacefully, do you think ?" " The struggle with her pride would be a great one, for she values Canada at her worth, especially so when it will be a highway to India for her at the completion of the C. P. R. She is prepared to acceed to any demand we may make of her now — rather than estrange us — but she will never war again with the United States. Her statesmen hope to strengthen the weaken- ing tie which holds us together by this yielding policy." " Does it not deceive some people, father ?" " Not in the least ; though some for personal aims attect a belief in her gilded sophistries. These utterances, such as they are, retard, but cannot prevent 106 LOOKING FORWARD. the ultimate fruition of our annexation hopes. One who pretends a lukewarm belief in all Britisli utter- ances — an ex-Canadian, who, by the way, has amassed his millions ' over the border,' — has troubled himself wonderfully to create religious opposition to the cause by appealing to the prejudices of uninformed protestants in an insidious little pamphlet which he's had circu- lated wherever lie could. The man is a traitor to his own convictions ! While setting forth in glowing colors the benefits of a reciprocity, whose logical sequence he and every one knows to be annexation, he proceeds to alarm his protestant friends with tlie terrifying prospect of ' absorbing such a catholic province as Quebec into the United States!' Anthropophagical Quebec! he fears — the 'absorbed ' — may in turn become ' absorber !' the French Canadians are such a prolific nation, says he I I'm sorry he has so little faith in the Germanic races ! He fears admission of so much Catholic ignor- ance ; fears, if added power were in Romish hands, the * Church would overrule State ! ' ' Uberty of conscience be denied the masses !' and he libels us by saying, ' catholics cannot be expected to be such patriots as protestants !' I'd like to remind him of the words of the great Daniel O'Connell, which are the sentiments of every true son of the church, when that * Church and State ' question is mooted, ' Our religion — not our politics, from Rome ! ' He forgets that the Catholics of Maryland were first to grant liberty of conscience iw the U. S. ; that many of them gave their lives for your independence ; that not long ago, when your buUet-shat- .1, LOOKING rORWAliI». 107 tered-flag waved over a bleeding but emancipated nation, they sealed their faitli in its Union with their blood ! He's forgotten your country's discoverer was of the hated faith — that to Amerigo, another catholic, she owes her name ! He admits the business men of ■Canada are a unit in favor of annexation, and in the same breath announces another obstacle to it — in oppo- sition from high dignitaries of the catholic church !" " And is tliat true ? Yon must know tliat, father -?" " As great a libel on tlie clergy of Quebec as was ever uttered! I'll admit, though, we have a few s]iining''clerical luminaries (they may be over-c junted on the lingers of one hand), who, by right of pondf^rous private incomes, fare sumptuously every day — -vvlio, surrounded by a puny court of sycophants attach undue importance to the gew-gavvs of their day of ' brief authority,'— the gauze and tinsel of its ceremonials. I'll admit these gilded parasites might make some craaky pr jtest against ' absorption ' into a land glorious in its demo- cracy. But this no more represents the sentiments of our clergy than * one swallow could make a spring !' Madame de la Eoche, your sympathetic enthusiasm on a subject so near my heart as annexation has be- guiled me into — well, committing myself, rather more, perhaps, than tlie discretion expected from my years would warrant. I've said so much — I may as well say more — might I risk very muclt«in doing so ?" said the reverend politician, with that wonderfully radiant smile playing over his handsome features which would have done much mischief had its owner been " in the world " and wished to exercise its power. t ffT "II 108 LOOKING FORWARD. " I don't believe you would, father ; but I don't know quite how far I'm to be trusted ! Reflect you know V*' " Well, my friend, there may come a day when we shall need — you — in the cause you see — so I'll not shirk from my confession. You will doubtless live to see fulfilment of the pnphecy I'm going to make you — and I even think I too shall see it. Now listen : ' home is where one is beloved/ after all ; so Canada, we may assume, is yours for some time to come. You sliall hear many tales of proposed independence, 'repatri- ation,' appeals to the 'national' sentiment of the Frencli Canadians, of longed-for-autonomy (which every State in the Union virtually has, and we shall share) — distrust these * manifestoes !' It is becoming for our pride to call tor ' independence ' first ; it leads but to one goal ! Believe but tliis — ' Orange ' and ' Green ' of Ontario — 'Rouge' of Quebec — Freemason and Catholic side by side ." " 'Freemason and Catholic ' side by side ?'' " You thouglit them opposing elements ? So th^y have been until that famous ' Convocation ' of the guild in Russia a few years since, when archbishops of the church and brothers of the Royal Arch, exchanged Sublime Degrees, with hearty shibboleths. Be unmys- tified my friend. Every secret thing shall be revealed ! It is necessary for yoic to know but this : that ihenp are secret organizations (throughout Canada and borderinr/ States), embracing all classes and creeds, for the sole purpose of favoring annexation — that the train is laid, and our clergy holds the fuse ! Not long after the ;;iii! ^mm LOOKING FOKWARD. 109 400th anniversary of America's discovery the blue tield of your Hag will scintillate with new stars and — brightest in the glowing constellation (emblematic of gratitude to our fatherland which gave her Lafayette), shall glow her northern star— my Canada's I" " Kind fate grant it may be so !" " Use another tenderer word my child, say 'God grant' it may. It is so written in the Book of Destiny — The signs of the times are easily discernible on the horizon, but tjoil need not trouble yourself about them. All countries are the Lord's — He will w.itoh over them ! Seek first, rest for your soul. I say, in your instance it matters little what motives sway you — no evil one could. In such a case as yours, * the end does sanctify the means.' Let your love of self (which is a legitimate affection when not inordinate) incite you to search for truth, which means to you — rest. If ever you stand beside the open grave of one beloved, and look down into that yawning chasm (bounded only by eternity), what consolation will those ' honorable citizens,' those silver-tongued pessimists, who defiantly deny the God who created them, have to offer you ? Ask of them bread, they will give you a stone ! You liunger and thirst after something beyond yourself. We all do. Only in the Church of Christ will that yearning be satisfied ! Ah ! Madame ! Madame !" said the cure', noticing Garcya's eyes suffused with tears when he turned toward her, " I beg your pardon humbly. I've exceeded all bounds of good taste in this desultory /. Ft chatting. Can you pardon me t 110 LOOKING FORWARD. So much allusion to her "country," to tliat "yawning chasm, bounded only by eternity," which held her dead, had reminded Garcya so painfully of lier loneliness, she seemed that night more than ever a stranger among strangers. The storm was clearing away, the moon bursting radiantly through piled up mountains of clouds, and the hour not particularly early, when father Bonange realized the tone of his conversation hail pained his guest. With many tender apologies the little breach was healed over, and at half-past 9 o'clock a man-of-all-\vork was at the door with the priest's great lumbering old- fashioned carriage — old " Blanche,'' securely tied at the end of a rope, following behind it. After exchange of " adieux," with thanks, and added promise to call and renew the acquaintance so auspi- ciously begun, Garcya started homeward, receiving a hearty welcome when she reached the farm from honest Sarrasin and his wife, who had not been a little alarmed for the safety of their summer boarder— to say nothing about the fate of old Blanche ! CHAPTER XIII. " Oh ! Wilfrid, here will I ' set up an everlasting rest!"* rapturously exclaimed the young wife, when sliown over the pretty Queen Anne villa on Dorchester street her husband had purchased, almost within shadow of Montlaurier ! ^ ^,'^^- LOOKINCf FORWARD. Ill Full of the quaint little angles and overhanging balconies i)eculiar to its style of architecture, the house made a charming picture, standing on the crest of a little hill, at the head of a Ion-/ Wcdk bordered with the lilacs," which had suggested to Garcya its pretty name of " Les Lislas." "I can just sit on that little balcony, and between the Hues of some book I'm reading, I can just say to myself: now, those bright little spots far away over yonder on those blue mountains towards the south — there, where the sun shines so, that is my own native land; there is where my own flag waves ! " " What nonsense, Garcya ! I hope you'll have some- thing more sensible to do than passing your time talk- ing and thinking like that." Ignoring Wilfrid's dampening remark, Garcya was soon lost in visions of the possibilities of "blue and terra-cotta" in decorating. Full of plans for the dis- position of vases, jars, etc., as " bits of color" she in- tended placing here and there in the many ingle-nooks in which the house abounded. A small army of tradesmen and work people soon evoked order from chaos, and before a month Garcya was presiding, with much grace, over a well ordered home. But the one from whom, above all others, her earnest attempts at creditably assuming matronly duties should have elicited tender gratitude and applause — was silent. The dainty dinners so temptingly spread for him" were rarely tasted. When he deigned to dine at home, it was only an ill-natured makeshift ill 112 LOOKING FORWAPJ). 'IiIkI because he had " missed an eiigageiiieiit with a friend down town, or that he wanted to take an evening spin over the beautiful roads "around the mountain !' Strange-looking, flashily (hessed men, often the worse for wine, were often asked to Wilfrid's smoking-room evenings, and to her dismay, were often presented to- her. Often she begged har husband to refrain from invit- ing such persons to the liouse, always receiving the same reply, " If she didn't like the friends who came to see him on business or for other reasons, she might keep her room ; he was master in his own home !" Her first six months at Les Lislas saw Garcya a downcast, hopeless woman, without friend or confidant, "Wilfrid's implacable sisters wlio called at the villa, but to cavil and criticize — to shield their brother's now well known debaucheries, laid the fault at the young wife's do( r. " She was incompetent or too indif- ferent " said they", " to control her husband's love !" Less and less the world saw of Garcya, beyond in the drives, when in an occasional fit of good humour Wilfrid was induced to take her out. People from the first had been accustomed to her seclusion : her absence from the world soon ceased to cause remark. Very little literature beyond " sporting news " and the daily newspapers entered Les Lislas. Thrown almost entirely upon her own resources for amusement and recreation life dragged drearily enough. In the solitude of her pretty boudoir, Garcya thought deeply LOOKING FORWARD. 113^ of f,.tlier lionauge's words: " You liunger and thirst for soniethinj^ hnjoml yourself. S -.ek tliat rest for your soul onln to be found in the ' Holy Eucharist,' the Supreme Sacrament of the church." If there were really a nearer " drawing? unto" of the soul to its maker, after all, which might uive peace and rest, how gladly would she seek it indeed ! If it would only aid her to bring her husl)and hack to the path of duty ! Day after day her desire to see tather Bonange grew stronger and stronger. One blight afternoon in the depth of winter, a day when Wilfrid was at home trying to sleep off the effects of an unusually long and disgusting debauche, his wife sat despondingly at the window, near where he lay stretched at full length on a couch. Awaking suddenly, it occurred to him that "Sultan,'' his horse, needed exercise. Unequal, for once, to the task of superintending that "exercise" himself, he languidly suggested " Garcya should take him out and be driven by the coicuman wherever she liked." " yes, Wilfrid, I'd like to be driven to the ' Sault," if you don't think it too far," Garcya said, when the proposal for the drive had been made. " Well, I don't mind if you don't, :>ut the wind i& coming up, it is very cold ; I sjiouldn t in the least be surprised to see a jolly blizzard before night," said Wilfrid, with a shade of kindly consideration in his tone. r \4 '^ ■■ 114 LOOKING F0UWA15D Possibly the sight of his wife's patiunt white face had a softening effect on him for <»iice, and the ])rospect of her liaving an interview with father Bonange rather pleased him. To have her become a catholic was a consummatioa for many reasons to be nnich desired. The sleigh was soon at the door. The severity of the weather had no terror for Garcya, when the pros- pect of exchanging a few kindly words with a sympa- thetic friend was in view. Within an hour from the time slie left Les Lislas, «he stood in the plain little parloir of father Bonange's presbytery. " My dtar madanie, how pleased 1 nni to see you," said the cure, orasi)ing his guest warmly by the hand ; " you are bound to come to me in storms, but its an ill wind that blows nobody good, isn't it ?" "I tliink its a 'tempest of the heart ' which brings me here to-day however !" "Nonsense! there must be no tempest there 1 come here child — let me look at you ! You look less robust than when I last saw you." " There you're mistaken. I'm very dangerously well — in body. I cannot say so much mentally ! Indeed I came to have you minister to a mind very diseased — -^'-i 118 LOOKING FOKWARD. li ii! II ii 'Ml h door of the Church to you, as you now stand, regardless of all consequences 1 would bid you enter and sit down and sup at the Table spread by Christ's ro al bounty !'"* Before Garcya left the presbytery that afternoon she had decided to study the tenets of the catholic religion. Whtn she started homeward, it seemed a new li^ht shone in her eyes. When Easter morning dawned at St. Guildenes, its altar blossomed with rarest and most beautiful tiowers Montlaurier's fine lot- houses could contribute ! A little group of relatives and friends knelt before the incense- perfumed altar, where in broken accents, Garcya de-la- Eoche abjured the faiih of her girlhood, and unknow- ingly assumed the rights, privileges, and obligations of the faith of her ancestors! For a few weeks a trifle more tenderness and con- sideration came to her from her husband and his sisters — then the old life swung back again into its accustomed channel. CHAPTER XIV. Ten years have made changes in Montreal ! Its electric lighted streets have broadened ! Her unrivalled dx'ive to the summit of Mt. Royal Park has V»een com- pleted! Her Winter Carnival has been heralded over the world in verse and song ! The beauty of a winter permitting such joyous outdoor sports as take place there, from January to early April, [when he; annually LOOKL^TG FORWARD. 119 erected " Ice Palace," like the ghost of her Carnival, melts away like the " baseless and beautiful fabric of a dream] " has been universally celebrated ! In arts, science, and literature, many of her children have won first rank in thr temple of fame ! The raag- jiitude of Canada's railways, the vastuess of her prairies, the u)ajesty of her rivers, lakes and mountains, have become topics of wondrous interest in the council of nations. To Garcya de-la-Eoche, however, the years brought little change. Long ago she liad abandoned hope of winning her husband's love, and making home what it should be ! — farther and farther they had drifted apart, until an unbridgeable chasn: of something very much akin to hatred, yawned between Wilfrid and herself ! Beyond the society of a certain sister " St. Cecile " [a sister of the convent of the Holy Cross] Garcya th.oughc and c red for no other's. This sister, who had been introduced to her by father Boriange, had been her friend [not quite a confidant] since the first days of her entering the Church. Father Bonange had been sununoned to Rome on an errand bidding fair to gain him ecclesiastical elevation. The acetic twin sisters de-la-Roche still continued their visits of ins )ection to Les Lislas. Altogether life could scarcely have been more monotonous than it was for its young mistress, who under other conditions, might have been one of society's brightest ornaments 1 Garcya's health (never robust) had not improved through all these years. Her best moments were still 120 LOOKING FOKWAKD. those passed at the farm by the river side, where she could sit at the window and look out over the blue waters of the Ottawa as they swept down from those silent North Lakes, whence its waters flowed past the pretty islands, little dreaming her heart would turn so soon towai'I them in an agony of yearning ! This, her tenth summer in Canada, found her at Kiviere-des-Prairies, as usual, dividing her time between her books, as she swung in the hammock under the maple tree by the riverside, and interesting herself in the children of the good-natured habitants. In the month of August of this particular year slie was surprised one sultry afternoon as she sat idly in the garden, to hear an unusual clatter of horses hoofs echoing from the roadway approaching the house, followed by volumes of dust through which she dis- cerned the figure of Wilfrid ; as he had honored them with a visit only the Saturday previous, his advent so soon afterwards was a matter of mucli surprise. Throwing dovv'n her book she was beside him soon as lie stopped at the door of the farmhouse. " Surprised Garcya, eh ?" " Yes a little, but I'm glad to see you anyway." " Get your traps together old girl I'm going to take you to town to-day ! De Laurier is going to France, I've made up my mind to take a sail over there with him as I need a change. You'll be glad to get rid of me for awhile I'm sure, and you can just get sister Cecile to bring all the stray youngsters she can find for you to look after up to the house while I'm gone ! Turn Les ^ ■ -^n LOOKING FORWARD. 121 in 1 take I've hi in If nie lecile you iiLes Lislas into an osylinn if you like ! Dost like the prospect ?" " W ell, not particularly," said Garcya sighing, " but I suppose there's but one thing to do anyway, and that is just to make up my mind to the situation ! But I do wish you were going over with another companion 1" Captain de Laurier was one of a trio who very often assembled at Les Lislas, making night very hideous with their orgies ! His deeds of prowess were protean in nature, having been accomplished under many skies, and even in the domain of sentiment ! The " field of honor " had offered opportunity for displaying good aim with his revolver more than once, and the notoriety of so many of his escapades with persons of unquestion- able fame had often come to Garcya's ears, intensify- ing her dislike for the man. " Y-'S Wilfrid, I can't help telling you how sorry I am at your choice of travelling companion." " I beg to be chooser of my own friends Madame Garcya ; keep your flattering opinion of them to your- self, I am joing with de Laurier and that's the end of it ! Hurry — just throw a duster over your white gown and come along ! Lock up your boxes, the folks will send then, in town another day ! I want to go early, for we shall go round by the prison. Warden Lock well out tlieie has a perfect match for Sultan which he wants to sell, and if he's as good a match as they say, I'll buy him to drive double. Its dreadfully hot though, and the road round that way very long, so hurry up ! " I.. .1" ■'< ' ,81. :;i|l ■:4.Hi : •li'i .J ;: ^J 122 LOOKIXG FORWARD. " By the jail !" said Garcya astoundedly. " Yes madame by the jail ! Have you any objection ? You needn't be alarmed I'll leave you there ! come 1 €ome ! hurry up ! " As Garcya started for the house rather reluctantly, Wilfrid called out : " Say, you can take a trip to New York yourself if you like — or, better still, you Cc accompany us down when we sail, you haven't been there for so long." Preparations for their short journey were soon made, and Sultan covering the ground on their homeward drive at a remarkably swift pace. His sleek coat white with foam, he carried them at last under the great stone archway leading into the court-yard of the Montreal jail. A few hasty " power-words " from Wilfrid brought a keeper from his stone seat inside the whitewashed walls. In a moment Warden Lock well was learnedly discuss- ing in horse-lore the points and merits of his saleable steed, and Garcya still stood beside an assistant-keeper in the vestibule while the animal in question was being trotted out for Wilfrid's inspection. " Perhaps madame would like to visit the prison while she's waiting for monsieur, people often like to do so ;" with much intended politeness, said the keeper, advancing as he spoke without giving Garcya time for the refusal, "to see human creatures caged like animals,'' she intended making, and opening the huge iron door before him ! Ili^ !!l!i ■■"■"1*1 LOOKING FORWARD. 12S )emg rison bo do jeper, for lals," I door "This is the debtors' ward, madame, where that American ." The sentence remained unfinished ! As the door just unlocked swung on its hinges, Garcya unavoidably glanced down the long narrow apartment before her ! The figure of a tall, rather slender (but powerrully built man), with a dusky face like an Apollo's in its chiselled beauty, with eyes like mid-night flashing under shadow of hair white as snow, stood half turned toward her at a grated window. For wliat seemed centuries, her eyes were fixed upoa that figure ! With a choking sensation (as though her heart iu wild tumult had broken loose its fetters and filled her throat) she essayed a protest of some sort — but words died on her lips ! ^ Before her rose a yellow mist, through which she saw the palm trees of a far off African coast — she heard the lapping waves round an open, unfilled grave, beside which stood .... that man at the windoio f The yellow mist grew blood red ! her eyes seemed bursting in their sockets with the horror of looking through it ! With hands thrown up before her, in appeal to shut out the vision, with a moan like that of a departing soul she sank unconscious on the prison floor ! Sal. 124 LOOKING FOilWAKD. CHAPTER XV. '* Yes dear, you've been very ill," were the first words Oarcya understood a we6k after the severe illness the de-la-rtoche's physician, Dr. Gueritoux, in his wis- dom, had pronounced "sunstroke"! Lad prostrated her. They were spoken by sister Cecile, whose mild brown eyes look pityingly u[ion the fair invalid, whose long shining hair lay coiled over her arm, about to be severed according to the Doctor's instructions ! " Lie very still, dear, until I relieve your aching liead of this weight of hair — lovely as it is — your health demands its sacritice !" At the lirst " click " of the sharp little scissors held in the sister's hand, her patient was fully aroused, and in an instant more she possessed lierself of the tiny imple- ment of destruction — was sitting up looking at her kind nurse with wild eyes ! " No ! it is not mine ! He said my hair should grow till his return, tliat he would find — leave me! ! my head ! Forgive me, sister!" said Ga.rcya, sinking back on the pillow exhausted, edding faintly: " I was dreaming I tliink, but — please don't cut off my hair ; it is unnecessary, for I'm much better than you all believe i" Having regained composure from the fright her patient ci'.used by her unexpected outbreak, the sister promised to humor her and reassured by Garcya's calmness, sister Cecile remarked : "you've no idea my LOOKING FORWARD. 125 her the my dear, how much sympathy you've excited everywhere I even in the dark recesses of the prison, where one- would think the wretched inmates had no pity to spare from themselves ! Oh ! I had forgotten, you didn't know that I had become 'almoner' at the jail since you left us, did you ?" At the word "jail" the convalescent shuddered, but she was silent, and sister Cecile continued : " There is an unfortunate American there just now who arouses my sympathy wonderfully ! Although he will not say a word in his defence, somehow I can't believe him guilty of any kind of crime ! You don't remember him, of course. You didn't even see him, you were so ill ! But he, poor fellow, ' half saw you,' he says, as you fell unconscious ! I told him you were an American and since then his interest in you has been boundless ! What a fellow-feeling you Americans have for another any way !" "What has — this — American — done, did you say?" " Why, he was arrested for having ' obtained money under false pretences' to cover a theft of $1,200, in money he had stolen from his father in New York city, they say." "You said — his name was ?" . ' " Wentwortli. Why ! wliat's the matter ?" Sisier Cecile became alarmed at the deadly pallor of the i'ace before her. " Why, nothing sister ! the heat of the room — that's all !" said Garcya. 126 LOOKING FORWARD. Witlic'.it betraying the fact that anything but illness was the cause of her emotion, soon as she could com- mand the art of indifference she asked, " Where this prisoner's friends were ; had they abandoned him, aud did they believed him guilty ?" " His father is a [diysician, witli ample means to relieve him from his position if he would ; but as yet he seems completely abandoned by friends aud family, so far as assistance goes. There's a mystery about the whole affair which bailies me. It seems to me that no one can look into liis honest eyes and believe him a criminal. I know / can't think him sucli ! His face tells a tale of long and patient suffering. I've taken him a few papers and books, for which he was most grateful !" " And I, sister, (jh ! might / not send some triiies, some papers too, as — as — an American ? " Garcya's color returned, her eyes brightened ; new life and enthusiasm seemed infused into her veins as she spoke. " Yes, you may indeed, you bony ant-hearted child ! how charitably disposed too ! A few moments ago I thought you dangerously ill ; now, with a prospect of aiding others, you are ready to minister to them. I gaze at this transformation with wonder ! You may do good to this unhappy countryman of yours though in seruling any books or papers you can spare when you are better, dear" ■ , , ^_ " Sister, I am better novj ; it will help me to forget LOOKING FORWARD. 127 nay ugh you Irget myself to aid some one more unhappy than I am, right now." When sister Cecile left her patient that afternoon she was laden with several daintily arranged parcels and N. Y. papers for her unfortunate protege at the Montreal jail. Two days after her visit to Les Lislas, the postman left there the following note : — Mad, DE-LA-ltOCHE : Dear Madam, — In addressing you a few lines of thanks for the kindness of heart prompting you in your feeble state of health to think of the unfortu- nate, in sending me such acceptable gifts as my friend sister Cecile delivered me from you yesterday, I will make no apology. My misfortunes are more eloquent than words can be in touching your heart — may they plead for me again to-day ! The papers you sent me, from the place I once called home, are to me a priceless boon. If my pre- sumption in addressing you should prove offensive, your silence will be rebuke sufficient to reprove my crime. With gratitude, Unworthily yours, liEGINALD WeNTWORTH, " My God ! My God ! Reignald ! playmate ! lover ! husband ! what does this cruel resurrection mean ! Back from the grave, only to vanish again from rny life !" cried Garcya, as she took the letter, pressed it to her lips, her heart, while scalding tears obliterated its characters ! -■) 128 LOOKING FOUWAIID. " Iieginald in the perrectioii of his manhood ! The hero of my life, herding with vagabonds in a connnon jail! What hidioiis mistake is here! Xo ! no! it cannot 1)0 ! If Iw had descended to crimi; he liad been an emperor of infamy, a monster of epical dignity ! Like Lucifer, he would " stand like a lower," without losing his original brightness, nor would he seem " less than archangel ruined " in his fall ! Tlud would be my Keginald ! not this — this ' roi)ber ot" his father !' this man ' obtaining money under false pretences ! " Yet scarcely able to walk she rose from her couch, and with unnatural strength piiced u[) and down the room with wild restlessness ! The horror of lleginald's crime whatever it was gradu- ally disappeared, and her woman's heart beat only for the man she loved, whatever he had done ! Above, beneath every other idea, was the only thought — "he lives! Rcijinald lives ! Whatever has divided us I know not. Jjut he lives 1 he liven ! We still breathe the same air of heaven ! Xo grave is yet between us !" she cried exultingly, and her heart went out to him so, in his misery, that it seerned to throb oidy in the wretched P-ison, which had now become her world, her hell, her heaven ! Love sprung phoenix-like from the ashes of her one great passion — his slumber of ten long years serving only to give him renewed strength ! " She knew his innocence — she was convinced of that — she would free him ! No sacrifice of ^her's would be too great to compass that end ! That very [day she Mc m ^mm ■.I- >i LOOKING FOliWARD. 129 would begin, the way she knew not; love would inspire means, sh(; liad no doubl !" How bright lier lustrous eyes grew, at the thought ! How her pale ciieeUs Hushed as she meditated upon it ! " 1 must now think of means 1 Love of my hapi)y days inspire me!" she saitl, weary at last from walking to and fro, and sinking upon her couch, " Oh, lie must not know 'lis I ! Heaven give me strength to keep my secret from him ! I must know his innocence from his own pen — must gain his confidence! Oh I feel I have it now ! Something, some echo of my love must whisper to him, ivho will b^ working for him, and then, when he is free, he will leave without know- ing whose hand has opened the prison doors for him ! Oh my God ! it mi/st be thus, it must be ! Thai must be the penalty 1 pay to gain his freedom ! Al/j sacrifice will be its price ! (lentle Christ, let Thy spirit of supreme unseltislmess guide me ! Personification of Mercy enable me to make Thee this oll'ering ! '' CHAPTER XVI. that Id, be she Without other guide than her all-absorbing affection, with love as judge and jury for the dear prisoner arraigned at the bar of her heart, Garcya began fier " case." How keen and past all reascjning are love's intuitions, only those unhappy souls who have felt the lliraldom of a great passion can tell ! The victims only of a master-passion, understand its sublime ecstacies — its infernal woes ! The measure of its joys are its suffer- 130 LOOKING FOllWAKI). ings ; its langiuige is unconiprelieiKled outside heaven and hell — is recognized in no state intermediate! AVith nervous treuihling almost heyond control, ignoring every thought of the possible causes which had diouled them in the past, blindly trusting to the improbability of recognition of her identity, Garcya began her letter to lieginald. * " Mr. Wentworth Exaggerates the value of the triiies sent him through sister Cecile, ]\Irs, de-la-lioche tlianks liim for his kindly interest in her health which is ncnv (j[uite restored. Tf she makes him another little offering of newspapers, etc. to-day, her clanish regard for her countrymen is the only plea she can offer in extenua- tion of her ' crime.' She repeats Mr. Wentworth in saying that 'his silence* will be interpieted as a rebuke .for her presumption in making a second intrusion. If Mr. Wentworth would consider his correspondent worthy of confidence, and deign to give her a little in- formation about the unfortunate circumstances winch temporarily embarrass him, she would endeavour to interest irf-^nds in his case, as she understands he has no ac(j[Uaintances in Canada. Assuring Mr. Wentworth that no idle curiosity actuates her in seeking to know his private affairs, she begs to remain, V _ His interested coimtry-woman, G. DE-LA-ROCHE.'" LOOKING FOllWAUL). 131 liosity she ;he. The .short space of time elapsing- l)etvveeii tlie dates of the hitters inter('lian«,'ed between Les Lishis and thi ^fontreal jail, l)e.sL proves the mutual interest aroused in both localities. Two days after writing the above letter the following reply came to Les Lislas : Dear Madame : — I am at a loss to adequately express thanks for all you have done and would do for rue. You are ministering to both mind and body and for the moment have lifted nu; out of my wretched surroundings — elevating me into a world peopled with l)oings like yourself ! To give you an account of the unpleasant incidents etc. which have led to tlie present climax of my mis- fortunes, would perhaps make me forfeit the respect and interest you seem to feel for me, both of which sentiments I am jealous of keeping. A review of my life is painful to me, would prove unedifying to one like yourself who has always been sorrounded by the tender inlluenccs of home. Try to think of me at any ' best ' you can without in(|uiring further ! This, thoui^h I would have you know — ihere is nothing vnlaivful in my career, yet if compelled to prove the truth of this assertion, I should be (jbliged to crindnate another (as I should be obliged to do I T fear) tlie world shall believe me guilty ! Be assured though I could not pen these lines to a lady, much less one who has been so kind as you have been to me, .32 LOOKING FOUWAUIi. were I guilty of the coiitt.'iu[)lil)le rniiiH! of whicli I am accused. If you insist upon unveilinn uiy past after getting this letter, your kimhii'ss to n.'c, when friends are scarce, has given you a right to make nie comply with your wish. Hoping you have changed your mind about it, I am anxiously yours, KEGINALI ) AVENTWOKTH." Garcya liad gone down to the breakf ist-room lor the first time since her illness that morning. After !)i(idinii Wilfrid a hasty "good-bye" uhen he had left for his morning stroll, she watched for the postman with feverish anxiety ! When he came she had ilown to tlie door, grasped the letter extended her, tlien throwing herself into a chair she sat reading and re-reading it, oblivious of eveiything but the one thouglit, that she iield a letter from Reginald Wentwortli ! "He does not know me ! How could he !" she murmured softly to herself — then, " 1 am so thankful he has no suspicion of my identity ! " For such a " thankful" woman, however, poor Gaicya looked nuich distressed ! " One who has always been surrounded by the tender influences of home, what a haU'-hearted letter after all ' Oh ! but there's an echo of innocence ringing through ever) word of it." "I must know wliat divided us — I y/r/rs^vnowl in the meantime I will trust him, and if tlie whole world — condemned I'd ^j/'off his innocence !" She read the ^lip LOOKING FOUWAKD. 135 ider after letter again and again then placed it under lock and key in a wall cabinet hanging near by. When night came, an J Wilfrid lingered as usual at his club and she felt a sense of security in her privacy; with an almost joyous heart whatever the future held, tliere was a false sense of rest in the thought — icas not RcffiTiald near Les Lldas ? Garcya penned the follow- ing letter, believing the expression of a kinship in sorrow, however ambiguously expressed, would strength- en her effort at extracting the inmost secrets of Went- worth's heart. * Mr. Wentworth, I think you will regret to hear those "tender home influences " whose loss you deprecate in your own experience, have been lacking also in my life. You should not know such had been the case writh me only that it may servti to show you how much easier it is for those who have known sorrow to sympa- thize with one another, than those who have been so fortunate as never to have understood the meaning of suffering. Your letter breathes more hopelessness than one ,yft \ ''."Itli youth, strength and courage,as you are, shou).d leel. It is so god-lik« to be a man ! Do try and ib.J'i>:3 this thought ! I cannot think of you without reciUing a picture I once 5«-. illed the "Voyage of Lift) '" It represented a noble youth standing in the prow of a boat, his dark lockf, fluttering in the breeze. Although the dark stream on which his tiny craft floated, looked black av^i t'^::bulent, and jagged rocks uplifted unvvv^lcome heads dangerously near, his rapt 134 LOOKING FORWARD. gaze was tixed in faith unshaken on the distant gilded domes and minarets of the New Jerusalem ! Tou should fix your hopes on a future as did this youth, his gaze on the glittering city, a future you can still make your own ! You will soon leave Montreal — bet^in life anew. I have no friends in New York but I t.hall pass .through that city shortly, — may I not call upon your family in your behalf ? sometimes a stranger's inter- ^' Vi^ 152 LOOKING forward] story has made me forfeit my claim to your continued'' esteem ! " "Always pity and pardon yours, Very unworthily, REGINALD WENTWORTH.'* "'Forfeit my esteem?' Oh my darling, my darling I You've gained it a thousand fold more deeply !" said Garcya pressing hei lips passionately to the letter which had brought confirmation of her hero's inno- cence — confirmation of his title to heroic self-denial rarely equalled — confirmation of his fidelity to her ! Yea ! thcit thought outweighed every other consider- ation ! That love pardons all sins save those against himself — is fact incontrovertable since Eve listened to Adam's softly breathed wooings under first blossom- ing boughs of I*aradise ! Reginald's distorted views of life, religion and other matters, his erratic line of conduct, so utterly at variance with all her boasted faith and love of duty — even the revelation of Etheired's treachery, which had parted them, weighed as trifles in the balance, whea Love tipped the scales ! " He has loved hut me ! " was the one thought filling the woman's unreasoning heart. " Come torture, death, anything, that knowledge cannot be stolen from me now ! although duty and the world's opinion may compel me to live with him whom all these wretched years I have called ' husband ?* To what heights might tve not have attained ! Oh Reginala, my husband in LOOKING FORWARD. 153' spirit and in truth ! One half-hour's drive would bring me to your side — I could look again into your frank, true eyes ! darling, darling, the one word which would tell you, * yes Garcya still lives ' must never be spoken ! Never, never must you know whose hand has traced the letters you have read and valued sc highly, not knowing wherefor ! Yes! I will go to New York — incur all risks to gain your pardon 1" Had Garcya wealth how easy were the task ! An appeal to Wilfrid would of course be out of the question 1 There was but one course to pursue, she must accept de-la- Roche's proposition and accompany him to New York ! She must attack the one vulnerable spot in Mrs. Wentworth's heart — her pride — for through that chan- nel only could she hope to gain assistance for Reginald — she thought she knew the means to accomplish her aim ! . CHAPTER XVII. ure, rom d in It came to pass when Madame de-la-Roche revisited' her girlhood's home, New York " society " presented a curious spectacle to the student of its social ethics. Anglo-lunacy still held potent sway over multitudes of charming individuals who had graciously condescended to be born in America, and there lay up sufficient treasure to procure "shooting-boxes" up in Scotland, you know ; to make creditable display " in the Row ;" to keep and occasionally inhabit cottages at Lennox, Tuxedo or Newport, winding up the giddy whirl by a few weeks " season " in dear old New York, where they ht ! Still her combined manceuverings, with those of hand- some Ethelred, who aired his ultra-fine garments at several clubs on the avenue at proper hours, whose' (filViJ' • •) K?s^~ 156 LOOKING FORWARD. • r, •ill ill - Ei; '.it- presence at their box at the opera, and leadership at drives, germans, etc., etc., had failed mysteriously in placing the name of " Wentworth " on the " Social Register." Mr. Ethelred's talents for the useful having, so to speak, prematurely run to seed, it was an under- stood fact that the ingenuous gentleman should turn his attention exclusively to a culture of the beautiful, so far as his person was concerned. Eeflecting one day upon the tale of his success in that particular direction which his mirror flatteringly told him, he came to what he called a " brilliant conclusion !" The era of the popular, social, dramatic and profess- ional beauty craze was at its height. Numerous indeed, were the passfee drawing-room belles, who flaunted their fading roses before the footlights ! " The women have held the ropes long enough ! A Inale beauty — an Adonis is the winning card !" he soliloquised, stroking his silken moustache before a long dressing glass 1 " ril be hanged if 1 don't think I'm the boy 1 F show the girls a Romeo, romantic enough — a Claude Melnotte, killing enough ! I'll to the continent — do the customary act, get nobility in the shape of som beauteous countess or princess who will obligingly lend a • coronet' to my advertising cards ! Shade of Rocious that's a happy thought !" Shortly after arriving at the above sage decision, the aspiring gentleman took a trip across the ocean blue ; but in his peregrinations abroad, alas 1 he failed to find the infatuated princess of his dreams and schemes ! LOOKING FORWARD. 157 A he the At Aix-les- Bains however, chance threw him in the ■ way of a per8onal^ I needed none I think." He ,ceased, restlessly racing up and down the riverside as he spoke, then came toward Garcya with outstretched arms. " Come to me my own — come to me ! " he pleaded. A sound of tinkling sheep-bells came from the hill above. Garcya looking up affirightedly saw pere Sarrasin driving his thirsty flock down toward the river where they stood. Nearer, nearer came the sounds ! Turning her scared face to Reginald— clasp- 176 LOOKING FORWARD M ■S;;: i ';!Sllii ing her hands on his arm she said under her breath, — " Reginald if yo^i do love me go this moment, they are coming from the farm." "On one condition only, that you write your decision when you'll come with me, to me to-night to the — Hall. I'll leave on no other ! You will write ? Swear it !" ■. ^-^ -■ ' ■.■-:,-, -.■■<■ '* Yes, yes I'll v\ rite to-night." " Until to-morrow then, love ! " Wentworth held Garcya passionately to his heart a moment then sprang lightly into his boat, which lay on the beach under over-hanging bushes near by, then with a steady stroke shot out midstream — while the woman he loved so well stood with aching heart looL ing at his receding form through the gathering twi- light shadows ! What a mirage-land is that of " to-morrow ! " how lofty its mountains — how opalescent its lakes — how blue its heavens ! All night after leaving Garcya, Wentworth lived in its mystic atmosphet'e ! He doubted not the passionate longings of his own heart found their echo in his loved one's soul ! Recognizing only a standard of right and wrong of his own erection, independent of creed or dogma, he naturally underestimated the value of religious convic- tion in others ! Disposed to yield magnanimous toleration toward those who were swayed by it, he felt no doubt LOOKING FORWARD. in *' to-morrow's letter " from Grarcya would prove a pretty womanish effusion, enumerating conflicting duties, ate. terminating however in her yielding up herself hence- forth and forever to his keeping ! Glorious thought I If his devotion to a dead ideal of his youth had been deep enou«;h to make him unlike his kind, to blight his young heart, silver his young head before its time-^ what could he call the sentiment which now sent his blood madly coursing through his veins till his senses- were plunged in a wild " tarantelle " of ecstacy, as- he saw his Garcya a beautous reality of warm flesh and blood lying helpless on his arm, as she had lain that very afternoon. * ^^ ^^ \^ %t^ ^^^ ^9^ ^^ ^^ People marvelled the following-morning at the restless- manner of the foreign looking stranger who paced up and down the corridor of the Hall, repeatedly consulting his watch — their audible comments making no impression upon him ! '*A letter for No. thirteen " said a bell-boy, as Kegin- aid Wentworth passed the hotel-clerk's desk for the fiftieth time. . " Wentworth the name, did you say ? " " Yes sir ' Wentworth.' " Before the astonished lad had time to recover from his surprise at having the letter snatched from his hand, Reginald had reached his room, torn off its envelope, and was reading : " Reginald ; — Calm and prolonged reflection has only con- vinced me that the decision I arrived at the first day 178 LOCKING FOEWALD. that I kiuAv you lived again, was the only one which should guide us. Spare us both the agony of another parting I beg you. Make no attempt to see rae, I can only repeat what I so feebly tried to make you under- stand yesterday ! Love, life's choicest gifts may yet be yours. We never could have been truly happy know- ing we had injured the innocent 1 My life henceforth will be one long sacrifice ending only at the tomb. Reginald, perhaps after all the greatest obstacle to our -earthly happiness would have been the supreme danger that I should have loved you better than my God ! Nothing can alter my decision. Never seek me. My last breath will be spent in prayer for you ! Reginald my heart is broken ! Help me to be brave and ■do what I know is my duty, if you love me truly I ■ GARCYA." . Went worth looked again and again at the letter! iiis teeth chattered, he shivered a^^ though an icy blast had blown in through the open door! He tried to cross the room and reeled like one drunken ! . "Ah ! " said he " Tve had a chill ! I'm waking from nightmare. Ugh ! but it's most horrible ! I'll have some brandy — anything to still these ([uivering nerves! This letter though seems real enough ! A moment ago the sun shone ! Who withdrew it, making infernal .blackness ? Am I mad? Yesterday I held something in my arms which had my wife's face; its soul and jmine were formed for one another. Cori?nlete we were together ; a,part, we each are nothing ! Let me LOOKING FORWARD. 17^ see — it was yesterday I longed for ' to-morrow ! ' ' To- morrow ' is her a — it has brought me this letter. 'nothing can alter my decision — do what I know is my duty 1' Her 'duty,' her duty to leave mc ! Curse a religion which could raise barriers between two- married hearts — if religion does it ! No, I see it all !- she does not love me ! She loves de-la-Koche, she fears harm may come to hiiii when he returns — that I might disturb their happiness! I know the value of this holy love — of duty; this tender care for the honored name of the man who owns her heart ! This man whose every act is outrage to the woman he has won — this low-born villian, whatever may be his boasted ancestry — whose unmanly conduct is common topic even in tliis very hotel — for him she pleads, casting aside one who would barter his soul for her if need be ! Judas-hearted woman I will not soil my hand with its own blood for your sake ! I'll live to torture you ! '* All the latent elements of evil in Wentworth's nature were roused by jealousy. Soon as he could command sutHcient control of his nerves to write coher- ently, with bitter mockery depicted on his scornfully curled lips, a cruel glitter in his dark eyes as of one who tortured "self" beyond expression in torturing what"self " loved best on earth, with unsteady hand the half- crazed man penned the following note to "Mrs. Reginald Wentworth," enclosing it in an outer envelope address^ ed " Mad. W. de-la- Roche, Riviere-des-Prairies." ai;«l 180 LOOKINC^ FORWARD. mi Ml . »GARCTA WlNTWORTH: You have made your choice ! You abandon your husband — to live with the fortunate possessor of your I heart. Allow m« to congratulate you upon the suocess of your efforts to rid yourself of a disagreeable — if not dangerous — presence 1 You might have saved yourself rtrouble however, and myself the agony of this hour, by having left me to the merciful justice of the law ! When you receive this note, I shall have accepted an offer made me yesterday — shall have entered upon a journey far enough North to satisfy any rigid demands as to the limit of distance you may wish placed between 1118 ! Reginald Wentworth. The following day farmer Sarrasin, at Rivi^re-des- Prairies, handed Mad. de-la- Roche a letter, post-marked ■*" Montreal." With trembling hand its seal was broken ; it must be read unseen ! Softly stole the missive's owner to her room upstairs, while intuition sounded death-knells in the prophetic bodings of her sinking heart! Not a moan escaped her lips as she read the unjust, .cruel words of Wentworth ! Only God who gave her strength to bear the blow, knew the depth of the wound they inflicted ! He only, saw 'the silver cord was loosed " — that hope and health and happiness KM flown forever ! that only faith and love remained to feed the flickering lamp of life in the fragile 'orm of the woman who gazed from her casement \ jjat the -wooded isles, where a dark, loved boatman rowed out of lier sight and <»xt of her life but yesterday ! LOOKING FORWARD. 181 " Far enough North /" she repeated ! From that mo- inent the " north " became a lodestone where centered the aims aud supreme interests of her life 1 thtre only «hone the pole-star of her universe ! To the lonely watcher at the window it seemed the dazzling sunshine of the' summer day faded on the instant, giving place to winter dread and chill I Before her tearless eyes rose visions of an ice-bound land — " a north * where : stars gazed vague-eyed, frozen, down on mere and w« Id ! It was the winter of her aching heart — the world was -Norseland, its one inhabitant — her Reginald I The temporary f orgetf ulness gained in sleep was all the :^peace Garcya knew. Her awakings were but to the horrors of new days of agony. Song birds who carolled matins ao blythly of old beneath her window, now were mute ! Sunshine had lost its brightness I Nothing could tempt her toward her whilom haunts — a spectre lurked in every one of them. A }pall of deathly biackn«»ss hung over the once beautiful stream whose murmuring waves* were now to her more bitter than the " waters of Marah ! " She dared not look upon them lest some terrible object, some tall man's form her heart would recoi^nize should be found floating over them ! ^Jj Might not this second banishment rob Reginald of iiw'^.im courage, 'til despair should tempt him to a rsuicide's grave ? " " Oh ! the cruelty of his misunderstanding my mo- tives ! " repeattd the self-tortured woman, asking herself over and over, " if, after all, she had done wisely ? If, after all, there might not have been some other way ? :■:• ■■■::; I it £' m 182 LOOKING FORWARD. God sent him back to me, perhaps I usurped His prerog-^-^ ative in taking Reg's fate into my own hands ! This suffering may be punishment for my presumption !" Unable to tolerate sight of the spot which had wit- nessed her greatest joy and her deepest anguish, she sought her city home. Unable to confide her sorrow, . which seemed too deep, too holy to be shared, Garcya hoped against hope for weeks that Reginald would relent and send some tender word. Daily at the postman's appointed hour, the lonely woman watched for news that never came ! 9|c ♦ :ic * ^ :(( He The first days of winter, Wilfrid returned home, his conduct seemingly more depraved than ever, his ex- cesses almost exceediog excess ! Curt allusions were made as to the fate of " that shorn lamb Wentworth," and the subject ol" the unfortunate American was dropped between de-la-Roche and his wife forever ! As the season advanced, Garcya's often untasted breakfasts were always served in her room. When she came down stairs later in the day, her step was slow and heavy. The little hacking cough which called forth many expressions of "how it annoyed" him, from Wilfrid, had now a hollow racking sound, its paroxysms leaving Garcya much prostrated. When; the sun began sinking in the west daily, her eyes grew so bright, their lustre startled, and tiny scarlet spots on her cheeks (like roses blossoming for the tomb), told the practiced eye of Dr. Gueritout a tale which took no testing of the fluttering pulse to confirm ! LOOKING FORWARD. 183 step' hich him, its- »rew ts on Itold' na She rarely left the house now, and unwilling to abandon her meditations of the sanctuary she had a small altar erected in an unused upper-room— a room whose windows looked nortkwardi Ther« she could indulge her grief secure from piying eyes. When the weather was not too cold she could lift the window- sash, lay her head against the casement and listen to weird music made on the wind-swept telegraph wires below on the street ! Wild strains they were, 11 Ue uncanny notes of eolian harps touched by unseen hands. Listening, she would wonder fancifully " if the breeze that swept from rime-tipped northern forests might not have fanned the dark cheek of her beloved !" Over her altar hung a painting of the " Magdalen." The sunny tresses which bathed our Saviour's feet floated like golden mist round the pathetic face. The band of loving disciples slept from fatigue after long vigils ; even the eyes of the Divine Mother had closed in weariness, but to the Mafjdalen sleep came not ! No sweet repose relieved the suppressed agony pictured on iher beauteous features 1 " In the early dawn when it was not yet day " came Mary to the deserted sepulchre ! There stood she in the brightening of the new day waiting (although she knew it not) for the enunciation of the first voids framed by the lips of the risen Lord- "Mary!" How quickly came the answering, "Master!" Divine romance ! Consecrated idyl ! Holiest sanction and sanctification of the highest type of human love ! "Tempted in all things like unto ourselves" why mi 184 LOOKING FORWARD. should the crowning sentiment of noble manhood — love- of woman, be denied the Perfect Life 1 So dreamed Garcya, with no shadow of blasphemy or irreverence^ naught but purest veneration hallowing the tender associations with which she surrounded the saintly picture in her oratory ! CHAPTEE XIX. The winter of 189- was distinguished by unususal' severity. When the traditional " January thaw " had fairly set in, Montreal's streets were thronged with pleasure seekers from among her own population, as well as the annual influx of pleasure-loving Americans, who made it "quite the thing to run up to the great northern winter city you know." As a matter of course Mr. W. de-la-Roche's horses " Sultan," and his later purchase " Rajah " were called out to show their speed. One of these exceptionally fine afternoons it had been deemed advisable for Garcya to be driven out. Accordingly "Sultan" was placed at the coachman's disposal for her use, while his owner took "Rajah" for a "spin" alone down the city. Almost con- cealed by her heavy wraps Garcya sat in her sleigh. When they reached St. James Street, so many vehicles thrcnged that thoroughfare, advancement be- came next to impossible. While they waited their chance to make headway through the numberless crowd of sleighs, a loud-voiced man shouted with full strength of his lungs — "Stand back !" Looking through the LOOKING FORWARD. 185 lany be- |heir lowd igth the crowd of faces surroundiDg her, Garcya discovered the owner of the voice to be a burly policeman. Suddenly the ominous ring of an ambulance-gong out-sounded the merry tinkling of sleigh-bells. Wish- ing to avoid the crush of vehicles Madame de-la-Roche ordered her coachman to proceed, but the command was useless ! Horrified, and somehow familiar faces peered at her T An old woman with her head wrapped in a faded red "cloud" cried out in broken English "Go the other way ! It ees hees wife ! " Too late! another glance, the ambulance door opened and Garcya saw men bearing toward it the body of a man whose limp hands drooped, whose gashed and blood-stained face was borne past her ! She looked an instant at the figure with a horrible fascination, recognizing the mangled victim to be — Wilfrid de-la-Roche I )ie :{: i|« sK ^ * * "'Tis a fearful thing to see a human soul take wing in any shape, in any mood I Twice in Garcya's life had she been confronted with' the ghastly vision of sudden death ! The first experi- ence had been robbed of most of its terrors by lapse of time — but this last one — this horror — this white face with its blood-streaks, which the men bore toward her on that fatal day, would it never disappear ? There it was, ever before her, sleeping or waking! All the pomp and circumstance" of the funeral pageant which attended Wilfrid de-la-Roche to his last resting place, beneath the pines of Mt. Royal, were meaningless to Garcya ! ml mi IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 lis ™l^ 2.0 1.4 IIIIII.6 V} (^ o ^. ^>M ^? -■^Y '>' % '% /. O^, /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14580 (716) 872-4503 fA ^ 186 LOOKING FORWARD. i I*; It I ■ I* ■ I' i. \ii ''») i^^ The muffled sound of footsteps hurrying through the corridor — the sickening odor of tube-roses resting on that black- draped object reverent hands bore from the drawing-room — the tolling of a distant bell coming through the open door — then the sudden and dreadful silence! How appalling it all was! Two dark taced women in sombre garments sat either side the young widow's couch — their eyes red and swollen from weep- ing ! A gentle " sister " held her white hand, when she half raised herself and with questioning look glanced from one to the other, then, as if the terrible reality half dawned upon her mind, sank back senseless on her pillow. Some one murmured " ' Tis well, God is mer- ciful!" Those first days of widowhood, liow sad they were 1 of such a widowhood I Comparutive health returned gradually and with it realization of the magnitude of her new grief ! The grave mantled all the young husband's faults — hallowed his graces ! To the widow, he was again tlie fair young lover of her saddened youth — the lover who gave name and home to a nameless orphan. He had gone down to an early grave with all his imperfections unatoued. Blessed consolation the Catholic faith now offered her, in prayer for the departed. Not fading as the blossoms on his casket, was the memory of her dead in the light of her new belief! She could and did make intercession for him daily ! How dear tlie very objects of her former chiding had become ! A half colored meerschaum on Wilfrid's smoking table, full of half-burned ashes LOOKING FORWARD. 187- lay just as he had left it ! Nameless sportsmanlike belongings lay scattered about the room (wher« so many times his boisterousness had called forth disa- greeable feelings on her part! How mutely they appealed tww for pardon for their dead owner — pardoUi she could never breathe ! CHAPTER XX. ^ jssion her laum lashes One of those early March days whose morning hours gave promise of spring warmth and sunshine, the after- noon failed to fulfill, the snug little sanctum of M. de Gallonrougo looked particularly cheerful with its open-grate fire brightly blazing before an old-fashioned oaken desk. Mouldy documents, delightfully new and crisp marriage-contracts decorated with tremblini^ly- made signatures, leases, all the various legal looking etceteras which go toward making up traditional surroundings of notaryship, lay neatly tied in packages to be put away for safe-keeping during the night. Just as the round-faced little gentleman finished arrange- ment of his last parcel, the office door swung open and' his ancient young lady clients the Misses de-la-Roche stood before him in all the solemnity of costly mourning garb I As their convictions assigned their late- lamented brother to Purgatory, the devoted twins with mucli zeal had decided to devote an entire afternoon to efforts at obtaining his release from that; warm region, if prayers for stipulated amounts could avail anything. Consequently their portly retainer. Napoleon Bona- 188 LOOKINQ FORWARD. t 1 'M, parte de-Montmorency (not yet superannuated), had 'driven the ladies from chapel to chapel, where propiti- atory masses for the deceased had been duly paid fcr. That duty settled, they were now prepared for other business. Although M. Grallonrouge considered himself as well versed in the idiosyncracies of the young ladies before him, as he was with the wills, deeds, etc., of their late ancestors, his boasted knowledge received a check when they entered his office that afternoon, and Alexandrine threw back billows of crape from her face, making a teint of wiping something from her eyes intended to T!onvey the presence of tears ! He had never believed the lady possessed talent as an actress, and felt quite Convinced the sharp edge of her grief had worn off the day of her brother's funeral. " Voyons ! Alexandrine, don't blubber like that I beg," he said, as greeting, with more frankness than courtesy. Euphrosine (shrewdly perceiving it waste of time to indulge in transparent ruses oefore the chubby- faced and wily student of human nature before them) came to the point at once, and began searching for certain little documents carefully bestowed in her hand- satchel. "Ah, put away those papers Throsine ! I know what information you seek ; I had your letter of yesterday relating to it," said M. de-Gallonrouge. " You would know, if in the absence of a will or marriage contract, whether the 'moveables' revert to your brother's widow or yourselves I Voila 1 They are as much yours^ if you LOOkINO FORWAmx 189' ibby- em) for ^and* Iwhat [rday rould ract, idow you wish to push the matter, as is the eatate, which you know to be indisputably the entailed succession of the de-la-Roches ! So dry your eyes Alexjandrine (unless . you wish to respect whal you know would have been your late brother's wishes could he have expressed them), the beautiful widow at Les Lisliis will eat the bread of charity every day she remains there !'* With a merry twinkle in his mischievous ol^' eyes the notary continued : — " But knowing your charitable disposition . as I do, I am sure you both desire me to make out a .. deed of gift to her of all the furniture — and you will give her permission to live under your roof, so long as . the American lady desires to remain there !" " Thanks, M. de-G^ I'm obliged to you for your * plaisantries ;* but Vd thank you more to keep them to yourself ! No one else would dare say what you do. . As for the American though, she broug t nothing but her indolence, sentimentality, and insolence into the family — she can have them for her inheritance I Not a rag that I can prevent her having shall leave Les Lislas I Come, 'Phrosine ; good-day, sir." With what was intended as a withering glance at the little notary. Miss Alexandrine flounced out of the door, , followed by her obedient sister and familiar spirit, M'Ue Euphrosine. " Whew I milles diables !" said the notary, when the young ladies were well out of hearing. " Two poor men somewhere in the world have escaped dreadful fates in getting out of the matrimonial clutches of such., viragos as those girls! Like the women of Sidon,, m 190 LOOKING FORWARD. i^ ii ' m' . *4 * their mourning over/ they are ready for any devil- ishness 1" Meantime Montmorency's orders from the Misses de-la- Roche were — " to Les Lislas !" •^^ •^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^ "The Cosmopolite." " Bien madame ! three days more and we shaii reach terra firma !" said a tall clerical looking gentleman who stood on the deck of the " Cosmopolite," looking far out over the blue waters of the Atlantic. "After visiting all lands under the sun, and witness- ing the glories thereof, after all the heart yearns most for ■the one in which we have first seen the light." Alter a brief pause the gentleman added : — " I dare say I am guilty of possessing an uudue amount of amor patriae ! A * wearer of the cloth ' should find his altars equally dear, whether reared in the wilds of Siberia or on the summit of the Andes " Not I, mon pere/' said an unusually stout lady who reclined on a couch extemporized from two large steamer chairs literally covered with cushions. " No such lofty sentiments sway my practical heart ; its not the mal-du-pays, but the mal-de-mer that troubles me," said the lady. " If I had not fear 3d you'd think me as deficient in charity as I am in patriotism, I would never have left my state-room until we were under the shadow of the Statue of Liberty ! " " I am fortunate in knowing how |Unju9t Madame la-Fontaine is to herself," gallantlyj^replied thej'first LOOKING FORWARD. 191' speaker, whom we at once recognize as Father Bonange. A rather fretful demand for " Fantine " (the natty little Lyonaise maid of the lady), brings that servant to her mistress's side. Cushions are shaken up, smoothed, satisfactorily disposed — a shivering little spaniel (half concealed by an enormous bow of scarlet ribbon tied round his fluffy neck) placed on madame's lap, the maid dismissed, and her mistress declares herself in readiness for a chat with M. le curd. '* Come father, sit down beside me, we can talk with some show of comfort now. Upon my word I'm just wild to tell the old twins the news ! But do you know that girl always did carry herself proudly ! I always said there was something unusual about her. I am very discerning in character you must acknowledge, father," said madame, vigorously applying her vini- grette, heaving a sigh corresponding in volume to the chest whence it issued. " Yes, yes ! ah ! but if the earl had only lived ! My ! my ! what a strange world it is after all 1" " In the long run, a very good world I take it," said father Bonange. " Providence never more clearly mani- fested intervention in human affairs than He has done in this instance ! In the denouement of our little drama; see how the actors have been summoned together from the ends of the earth 1 Had my superior at Eome not decided to send me home in this particular steamer I should have missed you, and all the necessary infor- mation which only you could contribute toward un- ravelling the mystery of Garcya de-la-Roche's early 192 LOOKINO BORWARD. Wm life i Without this certainty, the miserable old eart would have died unassured that the great wrong be had linflicted upon his wife and child could ever have been righted ! Then, too, had he not been so near death's •door he would have delayed that last confession which has led to such a glorious result 1 I seem to see the hand of Providence leading us all toward this goal in a .remarkable manner 1" i Two days before the above conversation took place on the deck of the "Cosmopolite," the body of "Robert, fifth earl of Bymtmere," had been committed to the deep. ^ . . . With his man-servant he had sailed from Queenstown much against his physician's orders. The second day at sea he had become alarmingly ill ; the third, the ship's doctor suggested the advisability of procuring the services of a clergyman. Knowing his master to be a Roman Catholic, the earl's servant had called father Bonange to his state- Toom. The priest saw at once that the invalid was a dying man, and with tenderness and tact so won his confi- dence that before he left him he had learned the story of his life, and the early sin which had darkened it, whose consequences he sought now to atone. Father Bonange learned how the sick man had been infatuated with a Brazilian actress called "Garcya Mendez," at Madrid ; had married and then deserted her, lest the fact of his " mesalliance should endanger the good-will of his titled father." The sick man told how the poor LOOKING FOBWAED. 193 abandoned young wife had given birth to a daughter on her death-bed in America, to which place she had been traced by agency of a detective service. He learned from same agency that the child had been adopted by a clergyman named " Wyndhame " in some obscure New Jersey village, but beyond this, all trace of her was lost Disheartened at the futile efforts of other de- tectives he hademployed to discover new facts, the earl had summoned all his waning strength and courage to <}ontinue the search for his daughter himself, and was on his way to America for that purpose. Bitterly the poor man bemoaned his increasing weak- ness. Father Bonange was almost continually at his side, only leaving him to get a breath of fresh air on deck, where he often met his country-woman, Mfvdame LaFontaine, and naturally made her the confidant of his anxiety for the invalid. As the sick man's strength grew less and less, Madame L asked permission to visit ais state-room, and for the first time learned just where the evidence in the chain of facts relating to the search for his child was missing. To the astonishment of all present she made the invalid slowly repeat, then spell the name of his daughter's foster parents. " W — y — n — d. W-y-n-d-h-a-m-e " — came with labored breathing Jrom the sick man, as she said excitedly : " Mon Dieu ! I know the child father, and so do you ! It is my proteg^ — the child you bap- tized into the church ! Wilfrid de-la-Roche's wife ! ' The joy which shone on the dying earl's face, as he realized beyond all doubt that his child could be found, 194 LOOKING FOUWARD. !M and that father Bonange (entrusted with his will, an(f full power to execute it in her favor) could give his daughter her rightful place in the world, proved too great a tax on his waning strength. Breathing a part- ing benediction for the child who had never known his love, he died that night ! "Awe-stricken passengers on the "Cosmopolite ** who listened to the solemn words breathed over the flag- draped body lying near the taffrail (where an ominous opening had just been made), marvelled at the unusual emotion displayed by the stout old Canadian lady and the priest beside her, as the signal given, a heavy splash was heard, and engulfing waves received the body of " Robert, fifth earl of Bryntmere !" CHAPTER XXI. At Les Lislas a bright fire blazed in its cozy library, Garcya sat in an easy -chair before the ruddy coals dreaming of that day of days when she and Reginald met and parted by the riverside ! How long ago it seemed ! Did the grave hold him or could some other woman have found a resting place next the heart she loved so well ? No ! that thought she would not tolerate ! A thousand times rather ho should have found rest from life's combat in the churchyard than that she could be forgotten ! It was high time ti put out of sight many little souvenirs of "Wilfrid which stared at her from many LOOKING FORWARD. 195 ill. an* jive his sred too [ a part- own his te '* who ;he flag- ominous unusual ady and vy splash I body of library, Idy coals Keginald ig ago it |me other leart she )uld not lid have iaid than liny little )ni many places. Garcya rose, crossed the room and stood near -a bookcase where she remembered little more than six weeks before, she had seen Wilfrid place a fancifully made whip in a corner which would scarcely attract anyone's attention. It had been brought in the house to show some friend. Yes ! there it was, still in its hiding place. No hand in all probability had touched it since its dead owner left it there ! Just as the young widow reverently took it in her hand her sisters-in-law entered the library and without further preliminary produced note-books and pencils. " It's quite cold " said Garcya, dumbfounded at the silence and peculiar manner of her uninvited guests, not knowing exactly what welcome the circumstances demanded. " Yes it is, but you seem quite comfortable here. '' *' Yes" said Garcya, looking at the whip she held. " I thought it time to put away reminders " "Of your freedom eh ? " interrupted Alexandrine. " Alexandrine ! " "Alexandrine then. Don't * Alexandrine ' me, if you please, mistress insolence ! " "Alexandrine ! " " That's enough of your repetitions 1 You know what we intend." "I do not!" " To make a list of the furniture. What we don't care to keep we intend selling at auction. What's that in your hand ? Well I declare if it's not my brother's whip. Give it to me madame 1" 196 LOOKING FORWARD. Ignoring her command Garcya said "but Alexandrine^ I don't intend to sell anything I " " You do not ! Listen to her ' Fhrose ! She dosen't mean to aeU anything' — She! Shel Every rag but your own clothes shall go, Madame TAmericaine ! We'd have you know that which perhaps you do not, my brother left no will Madame —this very moment you are- living on our charity I " Hurt beyond expression at the insolence of her ex- relatives Garcya stood irresolute with hot blood of indignation mantling her cheeks. " Look at her ' Phrose ! How well she can feign ' la malade' when she wants to! You'ie not the puny thing you'd have us believe madamel You " The torrent of unpleasant words came here to an' abrupt termination. Succeeding and violent pulls at the street-door bell brought an answering servant at once and immediately two visitors were announced in the drawing-room, whose cards read respectively ** Madame H. LaFontaine" and "F. F. Bonange." lu a moment Garcya had glanced at the cards, rushed into- the drawing-room and laid her head on the capacious shoulder of Madame L. and was sobbing as though her heart would break ! " My child, don't give way like this ! This is not my • brave hearted little convert, is it ? Surely not ! Lift up her face Madame La Fontaine till I see it well ! "' said father Bonange, clearing his throat in a very un-- necessary manner it seemed, at the same time wiping his glasses while he kept up a peculiar lifting of hia. LOOKING FOUVVAHD. 197 )t my Lift fell!"" un- liping \i his- eyelids as thou*^h he feared something was about escaping from tliem which he would like to prevent ! " There now, big baby ! I know just what you want, you want to talk about your sorrow. Don't now, that's a dear ! You just unbutton my cloak, it's so stiHing warm in here. Now let me tell you how strangely father Bonange and I came iiome together , quite by accident, was it not father ? '' continued .^'>s. La Fon- taine, with a glance over her shouhler at the priest, intended to be very arch, " how we learn- d all o.bout ;, ju, and by previous understanding have niot here together to have r. chat with you this afternoon ! " The good natu.ed creiture could noo have adopted bjbter means of distracting Crarcya's mind from herself than she used. " So you see there's nothing for you to say to us — but my dear if you were just as good and brave as you used to be, perhaps — I don't say surely you know, but perhaps father Ijouange and I might have something good to say to you ' " "0, I am so glad to see your dear, kind faces ! I am so happy to see you ! Please forgive my childish behav- ior, won't you ? " interrupted Garcya, gaining a little self composure. " Have you strength to bear good news my child, very good news?" said father Bonange a little falteringly. "Good news !" repeated Garcya wonderingly, could it be from lleginald ? Her heart gave a wild bound at the thought; no other news seemed "good " but news of him ! 198 LOOKIKG FORWARD. l\\ *^* " Be calm my dear, k7iow that the news is good, the lest I think that earth can give you ! " Remarking Garcya's increasing pallor and having gone thus far it would be impossible to retract what had been already said, father Bonange continued "suppose 1 told you that Providence led me to th j death-l)ed of yo?«' ouii father \ That he had breatlied his last in full confidence of eternal pardon in these very arms which I outstretch to your's ! — Come to me little friend, let me pronounce your dying parent's blessing to his cliild ! " Garcya glanced wonderingly from one face to the other — then a wild laugh echoed through the rooms, bringing the Misses de-la-Roclie from their hiding place in the library behind the portieres, just in time to hear Madame La Fontaine say, " Get restoratives quickly for * Lady Bryntmere I' " •JC *f* ^ ?(? 5|C 3|C 3fC " Lady Bryntmere " had scarcely been made aware of her identity when an article, entitled " The wonderful romance of an aarl's daughter," figured prominently in the latest edition of the " Montreal Evening Lantern !" ** Such transcendant beauty, grace and intelligence, as the fair heroine possessed, had rarely if ever been seen !" "A lengthy account of " her ladyship's " vast posses- sions followed, complete in detail, as the gushing reporter (who had spent the afternoon diligently ang- ling for points) could make it. " It was understood on the authority of one of her ladyship's immense (I) circle of friends, the unentailed * 1" 1" L'joking forward. 199 portion of the Bryntmere heritnge would shortly become the property of the church, as the heiress contemplated entering a nunnery !" ■* Not if I can help it !" secretly communed with him- self many an eligible widower and bachelor who read the mighty announcement of the "Lantern" that night. People began wondering, for the first time, why this wonderous flower had " blushed unseen " among ther.i so long, never once gracing swelldoms frequent enter- tainments ! " Invitations " demands that " lier ladyship would graciously condescend to allow herself to become patroness of this, that or the otlier fashionable charity ?" poured in from all quarters. "Cards of condolence " for her ladyship's bereavement (rather late in the season) floated in from people un- heard of before. *■ Thus runs tlie world away !" — wide open is its door, and on its threshold stands " society " wreathed, in smiles welcoming good fortune in almost any guise ! In the religious world, that crafty insinuation anent the destination of the " vast Bryntmere possessions " — • did insidious work ! " Churches in debt, churches in need of altars, and bells ;" convents in the same predicament, ran up their several quotas of petitions ! Her fame suddenly spread from Ottawa to Vancouver*! Owners of recently discovered " mineral springs '' (in unheard of places), yearned to baptize t^ieir discoveries ili m w r 200 LOCKING FORWAL] It"- with the noble name of " Bryntmere." " Would not her ladyship subscribe a few paltry dollars toward their several rising companies ?" etc., etc. Suddenly " Les Lislas " became a Mecca where jour- neyed pilgrims, in all the varied stages of woe and social decomposition ! While its front door was almost besieged by the '' deserving poor," tramps of all sorts i and conditions sought the kitchen entrance, where the "maimed, the halt and blind" kept them company! Even to Mountlaurier Lady Bryntmere's popularity extended. Wonderful to relate (with a.l their well known devo- tion to church) when the slightest allusion to Garcya's entering a convent was made in hearing of the Misses de-la-Iioche, tlie possibility of such an event met with lit:le enthusiasm on their part! "Her health then seemed of paramount importance !" Tender, sisterly devotion marked their every act since the revelation in the library the day of father Bonange's and Madame La Fontaine's visit to Les Lislas ! Not in the least misled by the sudden revulsion of feeling in her favor, Garcya accepted with amiability the proffered courtesies of her ex-sisters-in-law ! The dignity of her new lionors sat very lightly upon her. The knowledge that now the fancied stain of her birth was removed, that she could stand at last proudly before he world and speak of her "father," entirely outweighed the accidental possession of his wealth ! Sometimes a wild hope that she would once more XOOKING FORWARD. 201 it ion lame n\ of [ility iThe her. irth fore Ihed lore loolc into the dark eyes of the man she so loved, sprang up in her heart! Then the improbability of such a thing after so long an absence and silence would appal and sadden. More feverish, more restless than ever, she would hasten to sister Cecile, excitedly discussing plans for the future charitable disposition of much of her wealth ; when she also would wear the silver "token" (as she firmly ho]>ed to do) of the Holy Cross Sisterhood ! To curt^ Bonauge, now all her trials were known. He had been moved to tears over her pathetic confession of love for lleginald. In tlie priest's heart he earnestly prayed that before the last dread scene in her life should be enacted, a merciful Providence would lead the wanderer back to her side. But it seemed no answer to this prayer would e\'er come ! In choosing' the order of the Holy Cross for her novi- tiate, father Bonange knew instinctively the motive of Lady Bryntmere's choice — its m^'mbers were frequently sent on missions to the extreme no'th 1 — he could sur- mise the rest. When any allusion was made to " lands of ice and snow," Garcya listened like an eager child, " it couldn't be so cruel after all to live there ! So nuich that was brave and sturdy came from northlands ! There, the pretty myth of Herthr, 'goddess of the heartli- stone, had its origin — doubtless her first altar had been erected, wlien loving hearts communed at the fireside before blazing fagots while a tempest raged round some northern dwelling !" she would say, and falling into sweet reverie would wonder "if ht still lingered in such ■ansHRHi 202 LOOKING FORWARD. lands, might not memories of home, and all that word meant, not bring him back some day to her ? Thus would she dream — then plan for her initiation into the convent of her choice "next spring'' — and father Bonange became too great a coward to rob her of her sweet illusions ! CHAPTEK XXII. The world had known some strange mutations since the evening, seen through a vista of many long years^ when Garcya de-la-Roche first met " cure " Bonange in the old Presbytery of the " Sault !" i Her gracious host of that rainy night could now lay claim not only to the venerability inspired by his nuigni- ficent physique, to which time had only added grace in silvering the still luxuriant "mane" of silken hair rippling back from his white brow ; and the deep study of the causes leading to human woe and poverty he had made during his sojourn abroad, lent a subtler, more pathetic charm to his magnetic presence ! When he had been summoned to Rome, the brains of the world's diplomats and philanthropists were busy in endeavor to solve the enigma of what seemed an omnipresent " socialism." * The "ban"' whicli formerly hung over Freemasonry and other secret societies, whose avowed end was " charitv to one's fellow creatures," had been removed %i ' by his Holiness. In many ways the church bid fair, in her universal sympathy with suffering humanity, under ■■■,*■■ LOOKING FORWARD. 203 ins of isv in kd an [sonry was noved lir, in mder all guises of opposing creeds, to become the great ^*Syncretist" of father Bonange's prediction years before. In the Canadian priest, the holy father recognized an unusual personality — one to be trusted with missions both difficult and delicate if need be. Many were the offers of ecclesiastical dignities made the staunch old democrat, which were promptly, finally declined. Regardless of the pomp and glitter of the Vatican ceremonial which might have surrounded him in Rome to the end of his days, he returned to the dear land of his Ijirtli (by special permission) not even " cure " — simply an humble servant in the priesthood, " father Bonauge " as of old ! During his residence in Europe, the spirit of unrest, the longing to have voice iu the governments, con- trolling their destinies that possessed the people, had made its presence manifest in every court on the continent. Only the devotion of the British nation to the person of their beloved sovereign had kept the crown on her revered head for many a year ! English capitalists, shrewdly divining the signs of the times, hied themselves across to America, investing their surplus millions — where a republican government (if not Utopian) had in itself, remedy for almost any glaring evil, in constitutional amendments, guaranteeing the stabftity of its institutions. The old difficulty over the modus-vivendi at New- foundland had terminated in France graciously abro- gating " rights " which she might well have discussed III 204 LOOKING FOKWAKD. :; : III i at length with apparent justice to her own interests !' The submission of them however had not strengthened any tie of affection between Er gland end herself, particularly at a time when her descendants in Canada were looked down upon by their English compatriots 9S of a " race inferieure " — even their native tongue leg- islated against ! Naturally sympathizing with the re- public to whoL'e establishment she contributed no small share of assistance, France looked on at the political game on the i\merican chess-board with keenest interest, — and the game was well worth it ! The mutual interests of Canada and the U.S. had become more and more identical as time wore on. Their several nmltiplex railway systems, intersected at a hundred points, giving rise to interminable bonding, custom, and otlier difliculties. The oft-recurring lisbery disputes were no longer tea-pot tempests as in former days ; each arbitration they necessitated being fraught with danger to national courtesy, if n ot actual peace, at Washington and Ottawa. « Politicians at Canada's capital busied thenjselves in the unnatural occupation of erecting tariff barriers until the vital nature of their legislations roused the people throughout the length of the Don)inion and bordering American States out of their apathy ! The alchemists of politics at Ottawa, alive to the danger threatening them in the waking up of the masses to the true state of things — sought in making new promises to the nation, a philosopher's stone that LOOKING FORWARD. 205 iiiiier .tioii mal awa. (es in Kiers the and The Inger fS to new that would turn the tide of popular demand for union with American interests, into the pure gold of British loyalty — instead they found the reins of government departing from them forever ! " Corruption in Yankee politics " had been a long-standing argument against American legislation, which the " pure-souled Canadian represen- tive " had wielded skilfully ; but in the development of unsightly scandals, abuses of power, etc., that mys- teriously leaked out at Quebec and Ottawa, putting the"boodler" of Yankee celebrity to blush — the"white- souled party" argument found its death. The "Annex- ation league " which had lain dormant under contrcjl of some of the K. C. Clergy for many years, sprang Minerva-like into fame — becoming naturally the mouth- piece of the malcontents. When the United States education laws, allot ing one hour for daily instruction in his faith to each catholic pupil (when priest or layman wished to give it him) was understood by some of the rural clergy, who had opposed annexation, the last optn foe to the cause in the church was silenced! At first the inroads of English capital in the U.S. were little thought of — less discussed. Too busy were patriots from both Kepublican and Democratic ranks discussing the danger menacing the nation, in combines, trusts and monopolies among their own countrymen, to seriously consider what seemed at worst, a far-removed possibility of evil from foreign sources ! Not until an English syndicate monopolized the entire » ?li 206 LOOKING FORWARD. r U salt-industry west of the Mississippi, had purchased enough farm mortgages in the west to become landlords of a tenantry almost as dependent as Ireland's, did people awake to the magnitude of a new evil threatening the republic 1 Not until another similar syndicate erected mysterious buildings over the Missouri state- line, purchased all the available corn in the over- glutted Kansas market, openly avowing their in- ention of distilling it into whiskey — was a culminating point reached ! The Kansas prohibitionist, most alarmed of the alarmed at the prospect of the fruit of his toil being turned to such an unauspicous account added the the fuel of his wrath to a conflagration of indignation that swept from Maine to California! Protests against the "organ' /ed invasion of foreign capital," demands that the " nationalizing policy, with its unique schemes for government control be given fair trial,'* poured in upon President Depew at Washington, until under pressure of public opinion a special session of Congress was called for consideration of measures to allay the general consternation I Such was the situation political in Canada and the United States when father Bonange returned home ! CHAPTEE XXIII. When it was announced father Bonange would address the " Annexation League " at their new hall, its im- mense salle was filled at the promised date with the largest, most intelligent and representative audience ever assembled in Montreal. LOOKING FORWARD. 207 cess lim- jthe Ince The priest, had been a pioneer of the League ; had openly avowed its principles with the courage of con- viction when many citizens of every rank — knighted M.P.'s among their number — secretly shared them, too weak, too partizan, to voice their sentiments ! It was an open secret that the ex-cur6 stood in close communion with the Vatican — he came direct from the loved France of his compatriots I When the reverend speaker ascended the stage, where- on several members of the American G. A. R., whose scarred faces and empty sleeves told tales of matchless eloquence, were seated beside a well-known vener- able cripple, who in early manhood shouldered his musket in his country's defence in the revolt of '37, the intensity of the priest's emotion — born of the occasion, and its poHsihilitics, banished words ! An electric con- viction that the night was fraugiit with supreme mean- ing shot through the expectant multitude before him, so awe-inspiring in its influence, applause had seemed desecration before the grandeur of that orator's silence 1 " Friends !" he said at length, " an old man, whose three score years and ten are fast approaching, stands before you, made young in heart as the youngest — by the joy of being Iwme again ! Years ago 1 left you at the call of duty — duty kept me from you ; but if obedi- ence to her mandates led me from shrine to shrine in foreign lauds, my heart was alwai/s here ! To my fond fancy the soft Italian breezes sweeping over the Cam- pagna rustled through the maple branches of my native land ! Bright skies of sunny climes suggested only ■•;:■'! w i 208 LOOKING FORWARD. m li' brighter ones that arched above my boyhood's home Year after year rolled by, bringing no reassuring tale of Canada's prosperity ; my heart, so full of love for her, overflowed my lips to sympathetic ears, and a glad day came that brought this message from the Vatican : — ' return then to the land you love so well if conscience counsel. He serves Clod best, who serves his country well !' How eagerly I bid adieu to the lands of my exile you all know !" The speaker paused a moment, and the pent-up feel- ings of his auditors burst forth in mighty shouts of " Welcome !" " Friends," he continued, " the spirit of '76 is again abroad in new guise, no longer panting for that much- abused principle, 'liberty,' — but a spirit grown stronger, more vigorous from a century's experience ; one which recognizes that the fundamental principles of Am- erican independence, glorious as they were, lacked the far-sightedness distinguishing the patriots of to-day ! The master evolutionist, Time, who has stamped the seal of stability to ' government of the people,' has shown conclusively that Presidents too often are but * shadow- kings,' and Houses oi' Kepresentatives, Connress, weak imitations of ' Lords ' and * Commons ;' that their days of usefulness, their occupations, will soon be dead as the Social conditions which gave them birth ! "Eeanimate '76 in the light of modern thought, shows banishment of the incubus of costly machinery-govern- ment at Washington, superseded by single State repre- sentation under such limited conditions the repres«n- LOOKING FORWARD. 209 lay 1 seal lOWU low- reak the Idayi lows |rern- ^pre- tative must seek his country's weal, not his 'own or party's — else give place to those who will ! The tariff agitations have served great ends in wresting from daring and dastardly partizana' hands the people's e^xlusivc right to dictation in matters of vital interest to themselves. The verdict of the hallot only, as dictator^ has been the triumph of tliis decade ! This new light shows us, typical of tlie old world and new, the attitude of Socialism on two hemispheres. On the former, organized revolt, sapping the foundations of society ; on the latter, graftings from these same baneful sources — like tlie f.imoiis tropical tree whose lower branches distil poison most deadly, while its leafy top is crested with goodly fruit for hungry man, the Socialistic organizations on this Western soil, through education of the masses is fast becoming an honorable, self-respecting power. Thus, friends, as the Church is mother universal in the religious world, so are these United States of America parent to the world political ! That charity 'that puffeth not itself up,' that * concealeth from the left the doings of its right," is literally fulfilled by her philanthropists, who, recognizing the truth that 'the poor shall ye have- alway!' seek the only possible remedy — amelioration of the sufferings of humanity in establishing numberless beneficent institutions throughout the country for their relief ! *'A land that can wring glory from defeat, can send the veteran soldier of a conquering Grant to decorate with immortelles of the garden and the heart — the monument-honored tomb of a conquered Lee — a nation* 210 LOOKING FOUWAIJD. which has placed tcoman, where the God-Head intended she should be, when He made her mother of His First- Begotten, must be the * Land of Promise ' where the millennial twilight of the world's great Day of Chris- tianity — that Day whose Sun of Righteousness and Light rose in the East to set bouuath the Western w.ive, shall find on her beautiful shores the cross of Christ enfolded by tlie Stars and Stripes ! On tlie broad field of American thowjid shall be shortly fought a battle of contending opiuions,of mysticism, atheism and infidelity never before witnessed! Buddhism, with its 500,000,000 adherents, has advanced in fair disguise ahnost to the vanguard of Christ's army ! We must and shall repulse it ! You, French-Canadians, with your sturdy trust in home-sanctity and faith in God, must needs stand -elbow to elbow in the fray, with your American brothers. This annexation of thought and aiim will follow the coming one, which shoidd have taken place when the Nationaliste party first gained astounding victories several years ago, proving how completely balance of power rested in the hands of the Province of Quebec ! When Bombasto Boulanger was placed at the helm of the ship-of-state of that party, he neglected the golden possibilities of the hour — his opportunity of becoming history's hero, slipped from his grasp ! "Although in giving you bridges, railroads through wildernesses, and (to his honor be it said) a higher education for the lower classes, he seemed a-la Napoleon IIL to acceed to popular demand for progress, his vacil- lating fear of ecclesiastical opposition led him to a finale LOOKING FORWARD. 211 gher ileon acil- inale of much confusion ! The oritlamme so proudly held aloft the early days of his career was emblazoned with glowing characters indeed, but their interpretation suggested nothing beyond the name of illustrious Bombasto himself I And here you are, steered by your gallant captain upon the reefs of national bankruptcy I It was no time for absolutism in politics or religion a few years ago — it is less so now 1 The Vatican acknow- ledges that fact and seeks no interference beyond direc- tion of one's conscience, certain that when that con- science d" 9 net make a coward of one— one can defy the world ! None admire old England from her barbaric days of Hengist and Horsa to her Victorian era, more than we all do ! She has been to us a fair enough foster-mother, but we need her care no longer— we left our swaddling-clothes in the cradle of 1837 ! " America no longer desires her presence here. The British Lion should seek new conquests in his Eastern jungles — on the Dark Continent — or let him run to earth the cruel Bear of Russia if he dares ! Children of la nouvelle France does it seem treachery to your tri-color to sing the praises of another flag — to that mother-land who sold these miraculous * few acres of snow' into alien hands ? If so, let me breathe toyoa the French President's words at the unveiling of Domr^ray's statue, wlien France declared * fete Jeanne d'Arc ' fete Rationale ! * Republic to Republic ! The United States has been and is our national ally,' he said. * In her first struggle we gave her Lafayette ; we ratified our national friendship with a century's sanctioil when we sent ^!S|l:, ^mmmmmm 212 LOOKING FORWARD. E-' Bartholdi's statue ; and now, both best and last, we would bequeath our beloved children to her keeping ! ' " From arctic to antarctic circle the God of nations and the church has made America one. ' What He hath joined together, inan must not put asunder 1'" Deiifeiiiug applause greeted the speaker. A dram- atic gesture from him silenced the uproar as he leaned forward in listening attitude : " Hark !" he cried ! " The southern breeze comes freighted with song ! Hear you it not ? softly — softly ! Sweetly, sadly familiar is the strain as it comes — nearer — nearer ! ' Un Canadien errant, hannit de scs foyers!' Yes ! yes ! that is it ! sung by warm-eyed maidens in their far-off American factory-homes! ' Bannit !' Brothers, fathers, husbands, I appeal to you this night — this moment — to shorten the period of that banish- ment — to declare allegiance to the Haij which floats over them, which will bring here ihe conditions they were forced to seek over the border !'' Father Bonange turned as though he would leave the stage. He might as well have sought flight through the vaulted dome of the salle ! A solid mass of excited humanity hemmed him in ! A mighty volume of sound echoed deafeningly ! Men tossed their hats high in air in mad exhultation ! shouting thiimselves hoarse with bravos for the "^United States of^Jrmerica /" LOOKING FORWARD. 213 CHAPTER XXIV. The day succeeding father Bonange's address io the " league," it seemed early summer held a feast of blossoms ! every tendril, every young leaf on vine and tree seemed aquiver with delight! buttercups and nodding daisies played hide-and-seek in the breezes dancing over country liedge-rows, and the sky itself breathed poesy ! Lady Biyntmere threw wide open the blinds of her boudoir window, exclaiming softly : "Oh, how bright the day is ! It does seem almost beautiful again — but it will never be quite as it was that day ! Be still my heart, and let me think of it • If I could but go out to the river-side once more ! If I dared do it — aared stand there, and think, how he looked, when I said, ' I would write !' Oh, I did v/rite ! I did write '" In her great eyes which looked ever yearningly, Uways seeking what they found not — those eyes ever heavy with weight of unshed tears — great crystal drops gathered and fell as she leaned her pale cheek on her hand, at ' recollection of that misunder- stood letter. " Oh, I must go! I will go !" she said at length, rising and summoning a servant to order her carriage 1 Her toilet was made for the drive in a short time, ii':i| '::'il 214 LOOKING FORWARD 11: and she was soon walking leisurely toward the front hall-door of Les Lislas. The postman had just made his contribution to the- iron letter-box fastened inside the vestibule, and negli- gently glancing at the unusually small number of letters it contained that morning, Lady Bryntmere's attention was suddenly attracted to an envelope addressed : — "Mrs.W. de-la-Roche, c/o. Sister St. Cecile, Convent of the Holy Cross" — whence it had evidently been re- mailed. ' In another moment her face blanched, her slender form swayed like a broken lily in the summer wind ! Tearing off the envelope, and grasping the bannister for support, she read : — "Garcya ! " When I left Montreal I miscalculated my strength. This silence must end between us. Breaking it may be my death-blow — surely will be if I never hear you for- give me for sending you my cruel letter after we parted ! Like the moth, I long to linger round the blaze till it scorches ! Willingly would I consummate the sacrifice of my worthless life to see the familiar writing which would prove my Garcya lives and pardons me ! Our mail station, 'Camp Curtis,' is a most inaccessible one • — letters frequently going astray on account of the unreliability of our Indian couriers. In sending this letter, and trusting to get an answer, I place all my hope on one die — and cast it ! " Keginald." LOOKING FORWARD. 215 .D.' Had the earth slipped from under her feet? Did she tread the golden streets of Heaven ! Whence this lull of the senses — this absence of the gnawing pain which had racked her heart so long ! • the sweetness of the rest ! "Most unworthy is thy servant, Lord!" burst from her lips, as she fell upon her knees pouriuf^ forth the gratitude which filled her soul, regardless of the respectful thougli much astonished servant who now stood beside her. " You are ill, Madame ; what shall we do for you ?" " Xotliing — nothing. I am vjcll, well — never so well before,' said Lady Ih-yntinere, her pale lips, that seemed so long to have forgotten laughter, parting in a strange sweet smile ! " My cariil^ge is at the door ; let it be driven down to the Seminary for father Bonange. I must see him at once !" A half- hour elapsed before the priest's arrival. When he came, L)r. Gueritout was with him. The imperative order, without further explanation, "to go to Lady Bryntmere at once," alarmed nim so, he had called upon the family physician, and brouuht that gentleman with him in the carriage. With the privilege of his years and position, father Bonange left the doctor in the drawing-room and mounted at once to the boudoir. Lady Bryntmere heard his first step on the stairs. With long sable draperies clinging round her slender nilMnHIPP my own lips, and I vmst have his pardon. Love will give me strength to fight death a little longer, I know — it mu''* ind mo in my husband's arms !" Finding it impossible to argue or persuade, father Bonange made a virtue of necessity in seeming to acquiesce in Lady Byrntmere's wild project, leaving her to join the doctor (who still awaited below), firmly believing she would never attempt her journey north after serious reflection upon its difficulties. " I never saw such determination ! Who would believe that frail creature had such courage 1 Why, doctor, her love for Wentworth is an apotheosis —she has deified him ! You will do your best to dissuade her, will you not ?" " Not I !" "How is that? You forbade my alluding to the scenes of last night, knowing her patriotism, lest it would needlessly excite her; and you would let her undertake such a death-trip as that ? I must confess I can't see through your logic !" "Well, father — two such excitements might harm where one would not. To thwart her now would do more injury than the possible rigors she would encounter on the journey. You will see, she'll go to some comfort- able station — as near as she can to this hero of hec ' I ! ■il ! 'fi ^iiil 218 LOOKING FORWARD. ■^r - j: dreams — and there she'll wait for him ! I never met so strange a character. I wouldn't be a whit surprised to find Love a better physician than all the M.D.'s in the country ! That rogue of a medico took his degrees in Eden, you know, and his practice has been very •extensive. By the by there's a point for you, father — you, who advocate so much from nature, conditionally !" " Surely you don't think there's hope for my poor little friend's recovery ?" " I couldn't say that — oh, no ; but I'll tell you she's the Arab's ' reed painted with steel !' and nothing is certain in this world!" said the learned doctor, as he and the priest left Dorchester street together. * ^ * :i« ;jc * * "Dr. Gueritout's diagnosis of the ca^a proved fairly correct. The invalid's hope and spirit buoyed her wonderfully ! Now that every barrier to concealment of her love for Wentworth was removed — love over- stepped all limits and did seem to keep death at bay, as she piophesied ! Two day's after reception of Wentworth's letter, an evening up-train of the C. P. B. carried Lady Bryntmere as through passenger to St. B , an insigDificant station in the far Northwest — the place nearest in com- munication with Camp Curtis. *^M \^ %^» ^t0 *lf ^S ^^ *f» ^P *^ Away sped the train over the pine-timbered low- lands of the Ottawa Valley, until the Capitol past, low hills began to rise, gradually heightening into giant LOOKING FORWARD. 219 ver met irprised [.D.'s in degrees 3n very 'ather — Qnally 1" ny poor she's the s certain 5 and the ^ed fairly yed her cealment )ve over- it bay, as Letter, an [•yntmere roificant in com- ced low- )ast, low [to giant mountains whose sides were seamed with deep ravines \ then over bridges spanning deep gorges where swollen streams dashed angrily beneath them I "The wheels cannot go fast enough," said Lady Bryntmere, while it seemed from the swiftly flying lar,dscape seen through the car window that the speed of lightning was urging them on 1 Every shriek of the engine denoting arrival at a new station, and so much gained in the annihilation of space between herself and Reginald was sweetest music to her I During her first day's journey, Lady Bryntmere's attention was attracted to a respectably attired old man who lingered often and very unnecessarily she thought, near her chair in the car. His presence ceased being obnoxious however, notwithstanding his having intro- duced himself unasked as " J. B. Leduc," when he announced his destination to be " a place in the woods known as Gamp Curtis /" On the instant he became a welcome, even eloquent conversationalist to the ears of Lady Bryntmere, who asked with breathless interest : " Did he know anyone at the Camp ; was it possible for her to reach the place ; would he advise how best to make the trip ?" "I know no one there," he said, "but he ivoidd assist — nay, even guide and protect her to the end !" A second glance at eyes beside him, grown radiant with expectation, shook the old man's discretion to such degree he betrayed the secret he had been well paid by n 220 LOOKING FORWARD. father Bonange to keep : that he had been sent north with no other purpose than to be his listener's protector on the journey. What a tender revelation of her reverend friend's solicitude 1 Her heart swelled at the thought ! " How my Keginald will thank him !" she said softly. What mattered all the terrors of the way her honest guide predicted, if in the end it led to Reginald, her husband -lover's arms ! " Nearer, nearer, I come love ■ only a few more days, and then " There was no hope or plan beyond that meeting ! Leduc's attentions were unceasing all through the three days' ride by rail that brought them to the end of their journey. Lady Bryntmere noticed with some curiosity all the stations along the route had been filled with groups of excited people, and at each stopping of the train " Leduc " mysteriously disappeared. Although these vanishings of her friend seemed a little peculiar (as he would dart from the car in the midst of conversation, etc., without apology or warning), her confidence in the old man was unshaken until the evening of the third day brought them to St. B , whence they were to start for the camp. When thetrain pulled out of that station, and the chivalry of her aged guide should have been most mani- fest in taking charge of wraps, satchel, etc., Lady Bryntmere stood alone on the platform. "What if the man were not what he professed to be V flashed through her mind I Here, as elsewhere, groups LOOKING FORWARD. 221 north )tector 'fiend's softly. honest [ild, her le love • was no igh the 3 end of h some en filled ping of jemed a in the [arning), intil the md the lit mani- Lady I to be?" groups of rough looking men, and some Indians, shared the universal excitement agitating other towns along the route. The prevailing confusion added not a little to the traveller's anxiety. In the midst a of crowd near by, someone harangued the multitude in a voice whose tones sounded familiar, and liis efforts seemed meeting with marked approval — if one might judge from the hearty applause greeting them ! Peering over men's shoulders. Lady Bryntmere dis- covered the orator to be " Leduc " — who, as she looked, with one hand threw open his coat, disclosing a glitter- ing shield ; with the other uplifted a statf from which slowly, gracefully, unfurled the Jlag of her cou7itry I Cheer upon cheer broke ilie stillness of that northern twilight hour ; and Lady Bryntmere's heart having been tutored many years in the hope that such a day as this would come, needed no interpretation of the scene I With a joyous impulse to possess the "first born " of the Stars and Stripes to float over these northern fast- nesses of her dreams, and bring it to lieginald, she pressed forward within speaking distance of the standard bearer, begging he might give the flag to her — and the request was granted. *|C ^ "^ •I* 't^ 'T^ n* Surely boreal stars never before were beacons to such travellers as urged their frail canoe up silent lakes, " portaging " it over mount and dell, as did an Indian guide, his ag^d companion, and the fragile pale-faced figure leaninf? on the latter's arm ! T 222 LOOKING FORWARD. Four dawns had glorified ravine and rugged stream while they toiled wearily on their journey. Now rest- ing, where no feet save those of velvet-shod deer or stealthy bear had pressed the mossy earth since the Almighty first looked upon the scene and called it " good !" — now resting beside their camp-fire, when the setting sun declared the majesty of his God in the eternal silence of the mountain's crest ! Their fifth evening's pilgrimage found the travellers near Camp ■Curtis. A brisk breeze sprang up on shore and tiny breakers poured over the beach from the lake, where their boat tossed playfully. " A few more hours of hard pulling at the paddle would end their journey," the guide indiscreetly ad- mitted. Oh ! the eloquer.t pleading of the great eyes, whose owner drank with holy avarice each syllable, breathing possibility of gaining time ! " Oh ! shall we not attempt it !" she cried, must ! we must !" We " Lady, it would not be wise to-night — believe me," said the guide, looking around liim mysteriously. " Yes — yes," pleaded Lady Bryntmere, applying her handkerchief to suppress the cough which had racked her delicate frame all day, until her tight-drawn lips were blue in futile attempt at concealing pain 1 In the deepening twilight, Leduc and the Indian LOOKING FORWARD. 223 itream V rest- 5er or ce the lied it leii the in the ir afth Camp reakers }ir boat I paddle 5tly ad- whose :eathing "We interchanged significant glances, while both strong hearts were touched by the pathetic spectacle of silent heroism before them ! Stronger grew the breeze as onvs ard sped the canoe ; and Lady Bryntmere, with her white face framed by her shining hair the wind had wantoned from her hood, sat in the dying twilight's glow like the creature of another sphere, and when the night air grew cooler and cooler, as though there lay concealed within its folds protection from all elements of harm, she encircled herself with the revered Stars and Stripes given her by Leduc 1 " Reginald shall lind me enwrapped in oiw Hag !" she murmured. " Not in weeks, or even days, but m a few short hours now /" Dulcet harmonies, unmixed with minor chords, swelled through her soul 1 " Reginald, Ref^nald !" sang soft waves dreamily ! Her spirit wandered in the fields elysian of her early youth. " Reginald, Reginald !" for lullaby, twittered birds in pine-tree tops ! Earth sky and lake breathed to her no other name, while nearer, still nearer the swift-flowing waters bore them on toward ^ the Camp. Ive me, |ing her racked m lips I Indian CHAPTER XXV. " Camp Curtis." A collection of shanties inhabited by " trappers," a few government railway surveyors, and " timber limit " men, is situated on the shore of Lone Lake. Mountains on whose cavernous sides tempests nest and brood, that sweep a continent's breadth, on whose hoary 224 LOOKING FORWARD. •i i heaven-piercing summits Day weds sombre Night and gray-eyed Twilight lingers in misty haunting shadows 'til the birth of Dawn, hem in the lake's upper shore, while the silence of its southern side is broken by unceasing clamours of a catarrct a few miles distant. This summer evening, 18 — , tliough the hour was not late, the merry songs of shanty men who lived in cabins near the water's edge were huslied earlier than usual — their deep-drawn breathings telling of rest profound ! " Best " there was for all save one — a man who sat outside the door of a liut — larger, more commodious than the others — a hut he had made all his own. To him, solitude was luxury ! Where danger lurked and others shirked from innate sense of self-preservation, this man was foremost, courting death so often his com- panions almost believed he led acliarmed life !" Often when the earth was covered with her winter's winding-sheet (jf snow, this man would rise and traverse ravine and mountain in tlie cold glitter of the northern moonlight — walking until footsore and weary — while the shadow of that slender figure which flitted before him on the hills of Palestine, seemed softly falling on the trackless paths of ice and aiow before him ! No one questioned tJie object of thise ghostly wanderings of the strange man, who seemed wrapped in silence im- penetrable ! None knew whence he came or who he was ! Although almost repulsively stern in bearing, when accident or sickness visited the little camp, his LOOKING FORWARD. 226 ;ht and hadows : shore, ken by itant. was not 1 cabins Q usual ofound ! who sat modious ,vn. To ■kcd and tion,this is com- N\ inter's traverse Northern 1 — while before tiling on 11 ! No [rings of Vice im- Iwho he )earing, Imp, his hand, which kept the forest's beasts at bay with an unerring ritle, became tender as woman's in its ministry to the stricken ones 1 Then would he ait pnd listen to the history of each humble life until they spoke of " lionie and loved ones," then thestrong man's eyes would fill with mist — abruptly • would lie leave them. * # ♦ ♦ # This summer night Wentworth sat despondent before his cabin, his silv