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Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s ^ des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mithode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 POPULAR IS^OVELS. BY MAY AGNKS FLEMING. 3.- 4. 5. C. f» 1. 8. 0. 10. n. 12. 13. H. 15. 16. -OUT EARLacOUnX'S WIFE. -A VVONDKUrUI- WOMAN. -A TKRRIBI.K S[<:CUKT. -»ORINK'.S I{KVKN(iE. -A MAI) MAKRIAOK, -ONE NrtiHTS -MYSTERY. -KATE DANTON. -SILENT AND TRUE. -HEIR OK CHARLTON. -CARRIED nY STORM. -LOST FOR A WOMAN. -A WIFE'S TRAGEDY. -A CnANGED HEART. -PRIDE AND PASSION. -SHAltINO IIER CRIME. -A WUON(iED WIFE (.\Vw). "Mrs. Plcmin^'i' ntorios nrc ixrowiiif; more and more popniar every day. Tlicir dclinpntlons of character, llfe-likn coiivcrHiiiioiiB, flaslics of wit, con- stantly varyiiii? ("ccncsi, and d«oply Intcr- cstiiiR plots, combine to place tlu^ir atillior in the very first rank of Modern Novclii^ts." All published miiform with this volume. Price, $1..50 each, and sent free by mail on receipt of price, BY G. W. CARLETON k CO., Publishers, New York. WPtONGED WIFE, ^ Jfoucl. BT MAY AGNES FLEMING, ACTiion OF OUT KAIlLSCOUnT's WITR," "a WONDICRFCf- WOMAN" A TEIIRIULE 8ECURT." " SILENT AND TllUE " ' "A MAD MAnUIAGE," " LOST FOR A WOMAN "' "one monr's MYSTERY," ETC., ETC. ' "What will not woman, gentle woman dare, When strong aflfection stirs her spirit up ?" Southey, <&t NEW YORK: COPYRIGHT, 1883, BV G. IV. Carleton & Co., Publishers, > LONDON : S. LOW A CO. MDCCCLXXXIII. » L6H VHG Stereotyped by Samuel Stoudbb, 00 Ann Stueet. N. Y. OONTEN-TS. ORAFTKR pj^Qj I. The Man in the Cloak 7 II. A Christmas Gift 20 III. The Brothers 42 IV, The Apple of Discord 62 V. The Hazel woods at Home 76 VI. The Wcdding-niglit 88 VII. The Tragedy Blackcus 107 VIH. The Last Dark Scene 12.5 IX. A Revelation 135 X. Stolen 148 XI. Eve 1G5 XII. The Pension nairi's' Fete 180 XIII. Tlie End of the Fele 107 [V] ▼i CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAOa XIV. A Tempest in a Teapot 210 XV. Eve'8 First Proposal 229 XVI. Ilazelwood Ilall . . 248 XVII. Two Old Friends 207 XVIII. Eve's Second Proposal 280 XIX. A Moonlight Interview 800 XX. A Stormy Day.. 316 XXI. Black Monk's 829 XXII. TLe Cloud 849 XXIII. The Silver Lin'ng 856 XXIV. Measure for Measure 303 XXV. The Story Told in the Deathroom 875 XXVI. Jubilate! 387 XXVII. APurtingPcep 400 WEONGED WIFE. CUAPTER I. THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. HE drear and dark December day was ending in a drearier and darker ovening. A bitter frost blackened tlie earth, wrathful clouds blackened the sky, leafless trees rattle i their skeleton- arms in the long and lamentable blast,?, and the river, rolling along, turbid and troubled, tossed its black Bnrgcs and moaned dismally up on tlie black sands. Ererything looked ghastly and dismal, in the gray,' spcctnsl twilight ; the lonely little river-sido village lying lifeless under the gaunt, stripped trees ; the long, lonesome country road, winding in and out among de- serted fields and soddy marshes ; the bleak hills in the 8 THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. I background, and the bleaker sandy level in the fore- ground, with nothing of life near but the solitary little way-station, on wJiosc i)latform a rod light burned. Of all lonely way-stations, undisturbed from dawn to dark except when the train came screaming through, there could scarcely be found one lonelier than the little station in the sandy level at the village of Ilivcr- side. In the pleasant summer-time, when the sun shone on the white sands, the cows grazed in the grass meadows, and the birds sang in the waving trees, it was a pleasant spot enough ; but now, with the December snow falling ghostly around it, you miglit have searched long before you could find a more solitary or deserted spot. In suramei'-time, the train from the city never arrived without stopping to set down sporting young Gothamites, armed with fisliing-rods and tackle ; for Riverside was famous for trout and pretty girls, and young New Yorkers found it a very enlivening way to pass the dogdays, angling for one and making love to the other. But in December, when tlic trout streams were ice-bound, the pretty girls unwilling to redden their dear little noses by exposure to Jack Frost's kisses, and the opera and tlicatcr in full blast in the Empire City, young New York stayed at home, and the THE MAN IN THE .OAK. train passed tlirough, cvciiiug after evening, without landing anyone at the lonesome station. On this particular December evening, the clerk sat in his little den, witli one or two especial friends, smok- ing clay pipes, while waiting for tlie last down train. A few passengers sat in tho waiting-room, reading the "Riverside Mercury," or talking, to while away the tedious interval, or looking at the snow falling in feathery Hakes on the frost-blackened ground. The cylinder-stoves in the clerk's office and waiting-room were heated red hot, and the lamps were llaring cheer- ful defiance to the growing gloom without. "I say, Mr. Station-master, ain't the cars late to- night ?" asked a burly passenger, putting his head in at the office-window. Tho clerk looked at tho little clock fastened to the wall, and took his pipe from between his lips. " It's only half-past four. Sir ; they'll be along directly. Oh, here they come now." Everything was in commotion dirccdy. Everybody was on his feet ; overcoats were donned, carpet-bags and valises were seized, and a general stampede made for tho platform. With the unearthly yell of a demon, the expected train rushed in and stopped, and the faces 10 THE MAN m TIIK CLOAK. of the passengers looked out through the steamed and blurred windows ut the Riverside station. The people in the waiting-room bustled in and the loafers smoking with the clerk watched thom go. ** Xo one for Riverside, I'll be bound," one of them said ; "city folks don't think it worth while to stop at our village when the cold weather comes." The si)eakor was mistaken. Before ho had ceased speaking, a man stepped from the cars on the platform, and entered the waiting-room to light a cigar. With another frightful shriek the train sped on its way, and the clerk and his friends came in out of tho cold win- ter-air to the warm inlluence of the red-hot cylin- ders. The traveler who had stopped was tall and com- manding of figure, with the unmistakable air and bear- ing of a gentlenuxn. IIo was young, too, and very good-looking ; and the long traveling-cloak he wore, with its deep-furred collar, became his fine form well. A fur cap was pulled over his eyes ; and as ho drew off one of his warm traveling-gloves, the clerk and his friends had their eyes dazzled by the blaze of a dia- mond ring on a hand white and shapely as a lady's. His sole journeying-equipage seemed to consist of hia TJIE MAN IN THE CLOAK. 11 cigar-case, from whicli he leisurely selected a weed, and lit it at one of the flaring Iuik'^s. " A sliarp niglit, sir," Mn clerk suggested respect- fully, a lilUe awed by the striking figure and flas liug diamond, "won't you sit down and take an air ol l)io fire ?" " I m not cold, thank you," the tall stranger said, pulling out a superb gold hunting-watch, and glancing at the hour. " Twenty minutes to five, and dark al- rc;i(ly ! Good night to you." Drawing on his glove again, and puffing away ener- getically the gentleman walked out of the waiting-room. 'J'lio clerk and his friends went to the window and looked out after him — in the gloom of the winter-night they could see him striding through the falling snow, with tremendous sweep of limb, in the direction of the village. "An uncommon swell, that," one of them said, going back to the stove. " Did you notice that ere ring on his little finger ? It cost a few dimes, did that llushcr, I've a notion." "What brings him to Riverside, I wonder," re- marked another. "There's no fishing or partridge- 12 THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. shooting now, and ho looks too grand to come on any otiicr business." '' Sooms to mo I've seen that young chap before," Bald tlieelerk, meditating. " It ain't his first visit to Riverside, or he'd nevei' know the road to the village so well. ShouM like to know where he's going when he gets tlicrc." "To the Gulden Swan, most likely," said the first speaker. "Go on with that story you were telling us, Johnson, when the train came in." The '• Golden Swan" was the only hotel in River- side, and the gentleman's suggestions were correct : it was to tliat establishment the stranger went. It was nearly a mile from the station to the hotel, over the bleak- est of roads, with thegliostly snow falling noiselessly and the winter-wind rattling tiirough the bare trees, but the young man walked on, heeding the cold and the darkness very little, straight to where the red light streamed out from the crimson curtained Avindows of the bar-room. As Je opened the door unceremoniously, the blaze of illumination from lamp and tire dazzled him for a mo- ment accustomed as he had become to the outer dark- ness. Some half-dozen men, with the landlord at their head, playing cards round a table, looked up, and stared Tllh] MAN 7.V THE CLOAK. 13 cniiously at tlic new-comer, who was stamping the snow oH his hoots in the doorway. "Good evening, stranger," tlie landlord said, laying down his cards and standing up. " Walk in and take a chair." 'TU take something more snhstantial, Mr. Jarvis." answered the stranger, advancing; "my supper, if you have no objection. Traveling such a night as this is hungry business." The landlord looked puzzled and curious. "You seem to know me, sir," he said, eyeing the tall stranger in the cloak. "You have the advantage of me, for I don't know your name." "You used io, then," said the young man, "and not St) long ago, cither." He lifted his f cap as he spoke, and Mr. Jarvis gave a shout of recognition at sight of his handsome face, and came forward with extended hand. " Bless my heart, Captain, is it you ? Who'd ever thought of seeing you here at this time o' year ? How uncommon well you are looking, too." " Thank you, Jarvis ; I feel tolerahle well, I allow. How is ^Irs. Jarvis and pretty Lizzie ?" " First-rate, Cap'n, and rare glad they'll bo to see 14 THE MAN m THE CLOAK. you, too. I say, old woman," Mr. Jarvis yelled, put- ting liis head in at an open door, from which issued a powerful odor of fried hum and a clatter of cups and saucers, " and you, Liz, come and see who's here." A dumpy little woman, with a white muslin cap and brass-rimmod spectacles, followed by a dumpy little damsel, with rosy checks and bare, plump arms, re- sponded to this call, bearing the odor of ham and tea in every fold of their check ajirons and gingham gowns. Mrs. Jarvis gave a little cry, and Lizzie uttered an ex- clamation at sight of the visitor, who stood, chapeau in hand, smiling before them. " Land of hope 1 Cap'n Forrest," Mrs. Jarvis shrilly cried, " where on airth did you drop from, this time o' night ?" " I knew she'd bo flabbergasted on sight o' you," remarked Mr. Jarvis, nodding delightedly. "Lizzie, why don't you come over and shake hands with Cap'n Forrest ?" Lizzie, her rosy cheeks considerably rosier than their wont, came shyly forward, holding out a plump hand, which the good-looking young captain shook with a warmth a trifle greater than he had given to papa and mumma. THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. 16 "Very glial to see you again, Lizzio, jiud as bloom- ing as ever, too, I couldu" t forget yon, you see," low- ering his voice, and giving the ))lump hand a parting squeeze, " and so had to come back to Riverside." "And how's all the other young gentlemen, Cap'n, and Avhcre have jou been ever since last summer?" inquired Jlrs. Jarvis, dusting a chair with her apron for him to sit down. "They were all well when I left them, Mrs. Jarvis ; and as for me, I have been knocking about the world in my old vagabond style, never very long anywliere," "And you haven't gone back to England, yet ?" Captaiu Forrest laughed, displaying a set of brilliant Avhite teeth. "I have not gone back to England, yet. I like New York too well for that. But, ^[rs. Jarvis, I'm hungry, and smell cooking within there, so — " lie made a lauglnng motion to enter, and all the hostess was aroused in dumpy little Mrs. Jarvis at once. "To be sure, Cap'u ; to be sure. AVhatever could I be thinking of, not to know you must bo hungry. Come right in, and you'll have your supper in five minutes. Lizzie, run and look after those biscuits. I expect the ham's burned to a crisp by this time." IC THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. Lizzie and her aiotlier flew back to the inner apart- ment, and Captain Forrest lingered for a moment tc epealc to mine host. "I am going back to New York by the up-train, Jarvis, what time does it pass ?" "Nine o'clock, Cap'n ; but ain't you goin' to stay all night?" "Can't, unfortunately. I came down on business. Can you have the gig in readiness by the time I get through supper ? I have a few miles to go, and shall not stop this way again. I can leave it in charge of the clerk at the railway station." " Certainly, Cap'n ; but I should like to have you stay. It's too bad you should leave us in such a hurry." "The loss is mine, Mr. Jarvis; nothing would give me more pleasure than staying, but business befo . pleasure, you know." "I did not think Captain Forrest ever had any weightier business tlian fooling silly girls," said Mr. Jarvis, with knowing eyes ; and the handsome young Captain laughed. " I'm a reformed character, Mr. Jarvis ; don't look THE MAN IN THE OLOAK. 17 so dubious, it's the truth, I assure you. And now for something to satisfy the inner man." Throwing his cloak over the back of a chair, and his cap and gloves thereon, he strolled into the next room, humming an air. The moment his back was turned, Mr. Jarvis was besieged with questions. "I don't known much about him," that gentleman said, resuming his scat and his cards, *' except that ho is an uncommon fine young gentleman, ready to spend money like a prince. He came here last summer with a lot of other young gentlemen, to fish and shoot, and stopped with us for three weeks. Ilis name is Captain Forrest, and he is an Englishman, more's the pity ; and that's everything I know about him. Dobson, tho deal's yours." While Mr. Dobson shufSed tho cards and Mr. Jarvis summoned his only servant to him, who was eat- ing peanuts and overlooking the game, to go out and fetch the gig and mare, tho young gentleman, whoso biography he had been giving them, was seated before a taljle, laden with tea and toast, ham and eggs, home- made cake and pies, discussing tho viands with the appetite of a hungry traveler, while good-natured littlo Mrs. Jarvis stood with her fat hands on her fat sides, 18 THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. overlooking tlio performance with a face beaming "with hospitable delight. "And so Riverside is the same old story," Captain Forrest was saying; "no changes at all, I suppose? Nobody dead or married, or left or settled, eh ?" "Notman}^, Capt'n ; folks when they settle down here don't care to leave, and new folks don't much care to come. Try the pie. I made it myself, and I know it is good." ** It must be if you made it. And so there have been no changes at all ?" Lizzie turned round from the cookstove over which she was bending, with a scarlet face. "There's some folks moved into one of them doll houses on the marsh lately, mother. Ain't you heard of them ?" Mrs. Jarvis turned up her nose. " Oh, they're of no account. They must be poor as Job's turkey, whoever they are, or they wouldn't live there. Have another cup of tea, Capt'n, and try the cake." "I daresay they're poor enough," said Lizzie, going on with her cooking, "but the young woman that's there looks like a lady, and everybody says so. She's TEE MAN IN THE CLOAK. 19 handsomer than anybody I ever saw before in my life." " What's her name?" asked Captain Forrest, looking interested. " Nobody knows. They came a few weeks ago, four of them — an old woman and a young one and two children. It's the young woman that's so handsome, and tlie two children ; and I do say she looks like a lady, if slie is poor." " Has she ever been here ?" *' No ; she don'c go out much, but I've seen her onco or twice. The old woman comes to the store some- times for things, but nobody knows her name, or where they come from, or anything about them." " And I don't believe they're any better than they ought to be," struck in Mrs. Jarvis, with the usual cliarity of her sex ; " where there's secrecy there's guilt, that's my opinion. Do try the cakes, Cap'u, won't you?" " Couldn't possibly. I have done ample justice to your good things, I think, Mrs. Jarvis, and now I must bid you good-bye and be off." Mrs. Jarvis protested loudly, and Lizzie looked un- gpeakablo things under her eyelashes, but Captain For- 20 THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. rest wad proof against both, and returned to the bar- room, where the card party was still in full blast. " The boss and gig's at the door, Cap'n," Mr. Jar- vis said, "but I don't see why you can't come back am atop with us a week or so. It seems kinder bad to have you come one moment and fly off the next." '* Can't be helped, unfortunately," said the young man, throwing his cloak over his shoulder, and putting on his cap and gloves ; "good-bye, Mrs. Jarvis ; good- bye, Lizzie ; don't get married till I come back again. There's no telling but I may take a fancy to have a wife one of these days. Good-bye, Mr. Jarvis, a thousand thanks for the use of the gig. You'll find it all safe to-morrow morning at the station." Shaking hands all round, the young man went out, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis. The gig stood at the door, and he sprang lightly in, seized the reins, touched the horse with the whip, and shouting a last good-bye, flew off and was lost in the darkness of the December night. The snow was falling rapidly now ; and the road, running between rows of tall black trees, looked like a silver lino set in ebony. The darkness is never very dense when it snows ; and though neither moon nor THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. 21 etars shone to show him the way, he kept the horse at full speed, and rattled rapidly on over the frosty ground. His ride was not long ; half an hour brought him to the end of the village, and the end of his jour- ney in that direction. It was a lonely not to say dismal spot in which he chose to alight ; on one side, the river rolled turbid and black ; on the other, miry marshes epread, sloppy and sodden. Before him, the path lost itself in a frowning cedar-wood, a. hero murders might have been committed in broad day-light, and no one be the iriser. Yet, dismal as the marshes were, a few wretched houses were scattered here and there, from whose crooked chimneys smoke curled, and from whose broken windows lights gleamed. Only the very poor could hare remained there, and fever and ague must l>een the bosom-friends of their wretched inmates. The handsome young English captain, with the diamond on his finger, one would think could have little H) do with the dwellers in such a place. Yet here he choose to alight, and, tying the horse to a trpe, took a survey of the four or five miprrable dwellings around. " One of the houses in the marsh, they told me," he Baid to himself. "I wonder which of them it is ; per- haps 1 had better take them as they come." 23 THE MAIf IN T3B GLOAK. There was a path through these miry, treachoroas marshes — ho knew it well, and struck into it at once ; for in the snnny days gone by ho had wandered there often, with his gun on his shoulder and his dog at hiy heels. It led him straight to one of the miserable dwellings — a wretched place, with tumble-dowu chim- ney, rattling doors, broken windows, and leaky roof. Lights shone from two of the ruined windows — very feebly from one in the gable, and brighter from another in front. There was a white muslin shade over each, but so short and torn that the casements they adorned would have been quite as well without them, either for ornament or use. Standing on the outside, you could see, if you chose, everything going on within ; and Captain Forrest evidently found the view interesting, for he stood gazing steadily and long The exterior of the building was wretched enough, but the interior was wretched in the extreme. Abject poverty reared its ghastly head everywhere ; it stared at you in the rickety chairs, in the rough deal table, in the rougher trundle-bed in tlie corner, its miserable straw pallet covered with coarsest bedding. A tallow candle, gut- tering in a dirty brass candlestick, shed tears of fat on the table and its dim red light on the two women who THE MAN ly TllR CLOAK. wore the only inmates of tho baro nnd cheerless room. There was a wood fire, smolclering and smoking vi- ciously on the hearth ; and they sat on two low stools, facing each other, one in each corner. From tho posi- tion in which ho stood, one was directly facing Captain Forrest, tho other had her back to him. Sho whom ho saw was old, ngly, hideously wrinkled, wretchedly clad, and was emulating tho chimney by puffing forth clouds of smoke from a short, blackened clay pipe. Tho other, with her back to him, appeared youthful of figure ; and a great clond of golden hair, such as we see in pictures of Mary Magdalene, hung loose and dis- ordered over her shoulders and down her back. Her dress was as poor as that of tlio other ; and she cow- ered over tho fire, in a strange attitude of pain. It was a gloomy picture Captain Forrest saw, whether he looked within or without; the bad black night; tho ghastly white snow, ever falling, falling; the bleak and lonesome marshes, tho dismal night sky, and more dismal river, roaring sullenly along, the empty and comfortless room, and tho two lonely watchers over the smoky fire. No wonder he turned away with something of the surrounding gloom darken- ing his face. - • . 24 THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. L\ "It is hor own fault," ho said, frowning; "why will sho be a fool ? But now for tho children — there ia no time to lose." Ho turned to the side-window, from which tho feebler light shone, and looked in us he had done at the other. Here there was neither fire nor furniture, only another trundle-bed in u corner, and another tallow- candle, with a long red wick, flaming on the floor. Evidently ho had found what he wanted, for ho tried tho window — it opened easily, and ho stepped into the chamber. On the trundle-bed two children lay asleep, their peaceful faces looking up through a tan- gled profusion of black curling hair. He scarcely stopped an instant to look at them ; but drew from his pocket a bottle and sponge, poured some of the contents of the one on t-ic other, and held it to tho nostrils of tho sleeping children. The breathing deepened ; the sweet slumber of infancy was changed to a heavy, death-like insensibility, and the young man replaced his bottle und sponge. " What a blessing chloroform is, judiciously admin- istered !" he muttered. "I don't think they will give much trouble for the next two hours. Now then !" THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. 25 Tlicro was m qniU. or bliinkot over the poor little bed, only a heavy plaid shawl, gaudy once, but faded and threadbare now. The young man wrapped the lit- tle forms closely in its ample folds, took them easily in his arms, and stepped out through the window, closed it softly, and without waiting to cast one parting glance bcliind, made for his gig on the roadside. Taking his seat with the children on his knee, shel- tered from the cold and storm by his fur-lined cloak, ho started o£E at a break-neck pace for the railway- station. Tlie last up-train was just dashing in as he reached it, and he had barely time to secure his ticket and leave Mr. Jarvis's property in charge of the clerk, before it tore off again, shrieking like a demon. lie had the children, both rolled up together in tlie shawl, under liis cloak. The sleepy passengers scarcely looked at liini us lie took his scat, and in ten minutes Riverside and the house on the marsh were far behind, and ho and his sleeping prize were flying along to the city. A CHRISTMAS GIFT. CHAPTER II. A CHRISTMAS GIFT. milSTMxVS evo, ami a cold, clear night. Bright stars shining in a blue wintry sky, a crescent moon threading its silvery way up the blue-black concave, whore the con.stcllations were flaming ; a clear, bright, bracing night, full of promise of a cloudless coming day. Christmas eve, and Broad- way crowded. All gaslight, and glitter, and throbbing life ; every shop window a picture at which you might stand entranced ; cars and stages, Avith their brilliant colored lights, flashing up and down like overgrown fire-flies ; the pavement crowded with pedestrians, pushing, elbowing, jostling ; for Christmas eve comes but once a year, and the veriest miser must unloose his purse before the tempting stores. A man buttoned up to the chin in an overcoat of sealskin, with a scarlet comforter wound about his neck, and a crush hat pulled over his eyes, strode along through the surging sea of life, pushing and jostling with the best in his hurry, but never stopping as the other folk did to enter the toyshops and confectionery and jewelry A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 27 stores. No ; this man eyed all such places, as he trot- ted by tlicin, with a sidelong glance of sour disdain, and pursued the even tenor of his way for a mile or so up the thronged thorouglifare. He stopped at last under a street lamp, and pulled a card out of his pocket, which ho perused with deliberation by the aid of a pair of old- fashioned, silver-rimmed spectacles. He was a little man, you could see ; thin and dark of face ; with small, piercing eyes ; lliin, compressed, cynical lips, and a rapid, energetic way of doing even tlio smallest thing, that would have made a quiet person nervous to behold. "Number — , Fiftli avenue," tlic little man read from the card. "I ought to bo near the place now." Turning out of bustling Broadway, he made for the qnicU'r avenue beside it, and walked along that aristo- cratic place, looking at the numbers on the houses as ho wont. A few minutes rapid walking, and he drew rein before a stately brown-stone front, with two lamps burning in front of its aristocratic portal. On the silver doorplate was inscribed the name " Hazelwood "; and the little man in the sealskin overcoat and red woolen comforter, nothing awoil by its magnificence, ran boldly up the stops and rang a stirring reveille. A young man 28 A CHRISTMAS GIFT. in livery auswereJ tlio smnmons, and stared supercili- ously at the crush hat and sealskin coat. *'Is Mr. Hazel wood at home ?" asked the little man, in a sharp, quick, imperative voice, no more awed by the tall young man in livery than ho had been by the imposing exterior of the mansion. "Yes, he is," said tlic tall young man; "but I rather think he is engaged. Did you want to see him?" " Give him that," replied the little man, shortly, pulling out a card. "Ill wait hero until you come back." It was no gilt and glittering visiting-card, but a veritable piece of pasteboard, with "Jeremiah Lance" written on it in a stifl;, cramped hand. Tlie young man in livery looked at it dubiously, and tlien at its owner, whose peculiar brilliant e3'e3 were beginning to flash r'<,ther ominously behind his lunettes. Perhaps it was the iiery brightening of his glance that taught the tall young men he had better do as bo was ordered ; 80 he turned away with a slow and stately step, leaving the visitor in the doorway. He could see a grand entrance-hall with corniced ceiling, its walls adorned with rich paintings and pretty A onarsTMAs or ft. d» statuc3, lit wit.h l)l;izing cl'a.s'A'rs of gas ; a wide marble staircase, with gilded railing, going up in great sweep-s to tlic regions above ; and the warmth coming delight- fully up through the register (hat cold December night. Before the dark l)right eyes behind the spec- tacles had done noting all tliis, the tall young man re- turned, and behind him a tall old man, with a hand- some, fresh-colored face, white hair and beard falling over a rich Turkish dressing-gown of many colors, slip- pers on feet, smoking-eap on liead, a smile of cordial welcome on his lip?, and his baud extended in warm greeting. " }.Iy dear old fellow! 'My dear Lance I what a pleasant surprise for Chrislmas eve! Conio in! come in ! who in (he world would ever have thought of see- ing you !'' The tall young man receded into tho back-gronnd rpiite cowed, and tho little man suffered his hand to bo shaken, and himself, red comforter and all, to bo drawn in, wilh constitutional i)hlegm. " How well you arc looking, too, not the least changed since wc parted ten years ago 1 Take off your hat and overcoat and ct)me up stairs." By tho aid of tho tall young man tho visitor, who nil 80 A CHRISTMAS GIFT. this timo had sjioken never a word, was divested of his outer garnieufc, aud stood under the gasjets in a decent suit of black broadcloth, a bald-headed, keen-looking gentleman, of some forty-five or fifty years. " This way, Lance," Mr. Hazelwood said, leading the way up the grand staircase. " Of all men in the world you are the one I most wanted to see, to-night ! What will the boys say at sight of their old tutor ?" "Are all your sons at home, Mr. Hazelwood?" asked the visitor. "I heard some of them had gone abroad." " Conway has ; Conway's inclined to be a rolling stone, I am afraid, and will never gather much moss. Ho has made the grand tour — come right in this way, Lance — and goes moving from one end of the country to the other still, never long in one place. Take a seat. Have you dined ?" The little man pulled out an old-fashioned silver watch, and eyed it with an expres-sion of sardonic con- tempt at such a question. "I dined five hours ago, at one o'clock, the time I always dine at. I don't pretend to be fashionable, Mr. Hazelwood !" " You'll have some coffee with mo, then," said Mr. A CIiniSTMAa GIFT. 81 Hixzchvood, ringing the bell. **I always have coffee ono liour bofore dinner." But the fastidious little man wouldn't listen to this, either. *' I don't drink coffee so late in the evening, I con- sider it a pernicious practice. I'll take a cup of weak tea and some dry toast, if convenient. I never take anything heartier after six in the evening." Mr. Hazclwood laughed, a genial mellow laugh, pleasant to hear, and folded his gay dressing-gown closer around him. "What an old anchorite you are. Lance. We used to call you Diogenes, at school, and I find you are Dio- genes yet !" '* And you Alexander, I si^oposo !" said the small gentleman, looking round him cynically. "The world seems to have gone well with you in the lapse of years." If one might judge by Mr. Ilazclwood's looks and surroundings, it certainly had. The dining-room in wliich they sat was adorned with every comfort and luxury money could purchase. Brussels carpet, satin curtains, softly-cushioned lounges, and easy-chairs, inlaid tables, exquisite pictures, and a carved sideboard glittering with silver and cut-glass. In a steel grate a 82 A CHRISTMAS GIFT. bright coal fire burned ; for Mr. Hazel wood, despite his furnace, insisted on a fire the whole winter through. It was pleasant to see as well as feel the heat, pleasant, too, to watch ihe briglit red cinders and dream over tlie pictures therein. The two men sat opposite each other, in two carved and cushioned armchairs, and formed a striking contrast. TJie one with his fresh, florid com- plexion ; his tall upright figure wrapped in the gay dressing-gown ; his snow-white hair and beard giving him the look of an old-time patriarch ; his kindly eye, and smile, and vIwood, sipping liis coffee, laughed good na- turedly at the bitter speccli. " Yon are a little severe, Dr. Lance — boys will bo boys, you know, and mine, I trust, are pretty good boye, a5 g«>o«ines3 goes among iXxa jeunes (/ens of New YorL Conway does nothing, I must confess, beyond yachting, ami rambling up and down the world ; but Arthur has a studi(j in Broadway, where ho smokes cigar.? and drinks lager, and daubs in paint all daylong, and calls htniself an artist ; and Eugene bas taken out his dii«!oma, and hung up his shinglo, with M. D. after his name, on the same tlioroughfare, and I dare say is licensed to kill with tbc best." Doctor Lance grunted. *'It"5 eiactly like tbem — the characters of three lie in a uar^biLdl. Conway bad brains and never would use them ; Arthur had none to use, and Eugene had them and usK,-d tbem. He has more sense than the other two together." *' We won't quarrel ovci it. Lance — have another cup of tea? They'll bo surprised beyond everything at Bight of yon. 1*11 send thcni word to come in hero be- fore they go out. ** Dresiing^ I believe, for a> Christmas party, at old 80 A CIIRTSTMAH QTFT. Thornton's — Una'ci ftoinf^, too. Oil, by the way, yon don't know Una, do you?"' *' I liaveu't that honor."' " To be snre, you don't know her ! I have only had her about four years, nor name is" Una Forest — an orphan, poor little thing ! the daughter of my wife's only brother. Wc took her when her parents died, to keep her out of the workhouse, and she has been here ever since. "Wait till you see her, Lance, and you'll see the best and prettiest little girl in Now York." "Humph!" remarked Dr. Lance, in his usual sar- castic accent. "Yours is a sort of private almshouse, I find ; an impoverished sister and two nieces — how many more are there ? " "That's all," said Mr. Ilazehvood, with his good- natured laugh, "and nothing would tempt mo to part with either of the throe. Appropos of Una, I some- times think she and Eugene will make a match." "Don't !" said P •. Lance, raising a Avaruing finger, " don't, I beg ! Of all tho things on the face of this earth, a habit of match-making is tho most despicable." "My dear fellow, what are you talking about ? I am not match-making. I never thought of such a thing ; but I can't prevent the course of events. It's the most A CIinH^TMAS GIFT. 87 iiiitiiral tiling in tho world tliat Eugcno and Una should UKirry. They're cousins, to bo sure, which is a draw- back ; but still I tliink Ihuy could hardly do bettor." '• And why, pray, should iliss Una select cs])ccially you- youngest son ?" " Will, for several reasons. lie is nearest her own age, nu.)re suitable in dis])osition ; and then, Conway, I fancy, has already chosen, and Arthur is too lazy to think of iinything but smoking and painting. lie ought to be a Gorman student at once." "And who has Conway honored by his preference ?" "A very pretty girl, Iloleu Thornton, one of tho greatest heiresses in the city Come in." Tills last invitation was given in response to a tap at the door, which opened immediately after to admit a a cluirming visitor. A youthful angel, of some fiflocn years, slender and delicate of figure, as became her age, and robed in floating misty white. There Avas some- thing striking and peculiar about the girl — it consisted in the snowy whiteness and purity of her complexion. The whole face was perfectly colorless ; yet no one could li.tvo pronounced her sickly, but no Albino could have boasted of a more perfect absence of color in the skin. Under tho clear surface you could trace every 88 A CnmSTMAS GIFT. blue vein, and tlio Iiair, worn in profusion of braids, WHS of lliixcMi liglitnoss. The eyes wore riithor small, and of the very palest blue; the features smali u'mI pretty ; the hands and feet tiny, and tho ma .ner self- possessed and easy, to an extraordinary degree, for that ago of transition. Her dress of white tulle, looped up with bands of pale azure ribbon, was low-necked and short-slcevcd ; and she wore a wreath of blue flowers in her pale hair. All white and azure, no one could look once without turning to gaze again on that singular face. Every human countenance, it is said, is cither a history or a prophecy — hers was a prophecy, and a startling one, too, could either of the twain looking at her have read it. Doctor Lance was evidently struck, for he bout his black l)rows and fixed his weird eyes on her in piercing scrutiny as Mr. Ilazclwood presented her. " ]My niece, Una Forest, Doctor. Una, my dear, my old friend. Doctor Lance." Little Miss Forest — she was small of stature, dropped him a pretty courtesy, filling the air with per- fume as she flirted out her translucent skirts. "Will I do, uncle ?" she asked in a sweet, childlike voice, turning round, that he might tho better survey A OimiSTMAa GIFT. her. " I dressed myKelf v/itliout any one helping mc Utilll." "You look us jn-etty as a picture — doesn't she, Doctor ?" But the Doctor only gave n contomptnous ginint. "Don't tiro yourself dancing, and don't stay too late. Wliat time will Jenkins go after you ?" " Wliatovcr time you like, uncle. Will two o'clock be too late ?" *' Oh no — two will do nicely. Where's your aunt ?" "Down stairs, I tliink. I must find her — she wants to see mc, too, before I go." " Have the boys come down yet ?" "No, sir," laughed little Miss Una. " They take longer to dress than I do ! Why, what's that ?" It was a slirill scream from the hall below. Una turned to see the cause, and ran against Snsan, the chambermaid, flying in, with eyes and mouth wide open, and consternation in every feature. " Miss Una ! Sir. Ilazclwood ! Come and see what's in the liall ! Oh, do come— quick !" " What's in the hall, Susan ?" asked Una ; but Susan, in a wild state of excitement, ran headlong down-stairs, reiterating her entreaty to come quick I 40 A CHRISTMAS GIFT. Una ran after her, and tlie two gentlemen, rather startled, followed a little less quiekly. Tlio sight that greeted them was not very startling though, after all. Directly under the hlazc of the gasjets, two little children stood, tiny creatures of very little over a year, apparently ; their small figures draped in little fur cloaks, and scarlet woolen hoods on their heads. But the faces under the hoods were of exquisite heauty, rose- checked, hlack-eyed, and cherry-moutiicd, and an ex- uherance of black ringlets fell over the fur tippets. The babies were twin,^, and the pretty faces were so much alike that it was impossible to tell the smallest difEercnce between them. There tlu-y stood, gazing around them out of their large black eyes, evidently as much astonished as to how they got there a? those who stood in amazement looking at them. Una uttered an exclamation, Mr. Hazel wood uttered another, and Dr. Lance took of! his si)ectaclcs and •wiped them, to bo sure his eyes were not deceiving him. No; it was no optical delusion. There the children were ; and where they had come from, and who they might be, was now the question. All turned to Susan, in silent inquiry. **I don't know the first thing about 'cm," protested A OlIIUSTMAS GIFT. 41 that haudmiiiden, with widely-distended eyes. "Ten minutes ago I came down-stairs, and there was nothing ill the hall ; and five minutes after, when I was coming up, I hero they wore, as you see 'em. The bell didn't rill,:,'; tlicre was no noise; but there they stood. I screamed out, and ran up-stairs ; and that's evorything 1 know about it !" '' llerc's a letter !" cried Una, seizing a large buff envelope lying on the table. "Read it, uncle. Perhaps it tells." "The letter was addressed in a disguised hand to "Mr. Hugh Ilazelwood "; and that gentleman, in a be- wildered state of mind, tore it ojien and road : "Mil. ]lAZKL\V00D—8ir:— Those children arc sent to you because you have the best right to (ake charge of them. They arc your grandchildren. They arc twins, and just 11 f teen months uld. I send them to you as a Cliristnias-gift, whicli I know you will not refuse. You Avill ad()]it and cilueato tlieui as your own. Give them your own name, if you choose; it is rightfully theirs ; but if you prefer it, you may call them by their moth- er's, Starr. The one dressed in blue is Rosamond ; the one in ])ink, Evangeline. I repeat it, tliey are your grandchildi'on, /is you v>\\\ learn to your cost should you attempt to disciird (hem. " Yours, respectfully, Sajsta Clau-." :::i\.'',\i\^.'tf;^,;>C ryiii^is;,[iia &'f?i 40 THE BRO TITERS. CHAPTER III. THE BROTH El. ,. HE quartet stood aghast. Mr. llazclwood had read the note aloud, and ''Bless my soul !" was all the comment ho was able to utter in his consternation. *'They are your grandchildren," quoted Doctor Lance, with malicious emphasis. " Kcmember that." A crimson flush of anger and incredulity rose to the face of the old gentleman. "It's a vile slander ! It's the work of son> ^ iniij ii- ous being who has taken this means of eocuri'j, : 'i.)ii > for the offspring she will not rear. Anything like Ji'' cool impudence of the whole thing I never heard of ! Christmas gift, indeed ! I'll send them to the alms- house to-morrow. Santa Glaus, whoever ho or she may be, will find Mr. Hugh llazclwood is not quite such a fool as they take him to be !" Such an outburst on the part of cxc-t npored, good-natured Mr. llazclwood was even more exuraordi- nary than the mysterious appai'itiou of the children. TEE BROTHERB. 48 Doctor Lance shrugged his shoulders, and scrutinized [the two little faces through his spectacles. "Black eyes, hlack hair, fresh complexion, and good features — all characteristics of the Hazelwoods ! IJpou my word, I begin to think there is some truth in the letter, after all !" "Lancer Mr. Hazchvood was breaking out in a high state of temper ; but Doctor Lance only pointed with composure at the two little creatures. *' Look for yourself, then ! Take off their mufflers and see if I am not right." Una oboycd the command by at once undoing the fur cloaks and scarlet hoods ; and the twins emerged at once from caterpillars, so to speak, into brightest butterflies. Tlicir dress was of the richest texture and most fashionable make ; everything they wore showing plainly that money had not been spared in their outfit. The one first undressed wore a short frill dre^s of blue silk ; the other pink ; the short sleeves and low corsago tiiinmcd with ermine, necklaces of coral and gold around their plump throats, fancy boots with shining buttons on their feet, richly-embroidered underclothes 44 THE BROTHERS. peeping out beneath the silken skirts, and their profnso jetty ringlets falling nearly to their waists. A prettier tableau than they made it would have been impossible to find, as they stood side by side, looking round them with great shining wondering eyes. Una and Susan, woman-l"' 3, uttered simultaneous exelamations of delight. Mr. Hazelwood melted at once ; and oven the cyni- cal little Professor who believed all beauty to be a fleet- ing show and delusion, was betrayed into something like a glance of admiration. " Oh, what pretty little things !" was Una's cry. **0 Uncle Hugh ! ain't they sweet !'' *' I wish they had taken their sweetness somewhere else 1" grumbled Uncle Hugh, in a subdued ' jue, how- over. "They're pretty enough; but what am I to do with them, I want to know ? I say I Ciiu Ihcy speak ?" " What's your name, dear ?" Una asked, taking the little hand of the blue twin, and caressing the pretty curls. The two children turned their black eyes on Una's fair face, aiid only stared in reply. THE BROTHERS. 40 " Tell mo your name," persisted the yonng lady. h Can't 3'oa speak ? "What's your name ?"' "Eosic," answered the little one, ia a sweet infan- tile lisp, "Rosic what ?•' asked Una, encouraged. *' Ilosie," repeated the blue twin, still staring hard tat her interlocutor. " And wlicre do you come from, Rosie ?" Una hesitated, still toying with the long curls. But Miss Rosic had exhausted her coniniand of the speech of Albion in that ono "word ; and the jiink twin, wlio-;e eyes had been attracted by (he wreath in Una's hair, liere made a sudden grab at it and tore it from her head, Susan screamed, and Una rose up. " You little monkey ! You have hands if you have no tongue. AViiat do they call you ?" "Sec, Rosie! Sec, Rosie!'' the pink twin cried, with a gleeful laugh, holding up the flowers in triumph. *' Oh, she can speak, too ! You're Evangeline—, ain't you. Miss ?" incpiirod Mr. Hazelwood, lifting the pretty culprit up in his arms. But ]\Iis3 Evangeline, averse, perhaps, to this sum- mary mode of seizure, set up a jjrolongcd yell, by way 40 THE BROTHERS. of reply, and struggled to get free. Mr. Hazclwood put her precipitately down again. "I'll answer for the strength of your lungs anyway, my little virago ! What under Heaven am I to do about this, Lance ?" " You had better consult your sons on the subject." " Stuff and nonsense ! You don't seriously mean to say you believe the infamous slander contained in this vile anonymous letter ?" " I believe the evidence of my senses ! Look at the faces of these infants, and see if they are not Hazel- woods." "Una!" exclaimed Mr. Hazelwood, struggling to repress his rising indignation, "go up-stairs and request your cousins to come down at once. Their own lips shall deny or confirm the charge. Susan, you may go." " Do you really imagine for a moment, Mr. Hazel- wood," sneered Doctor Lance, "that either of these young gentlemen will plead guilty to any proprietorship in these two young ladies ? Why, the greatest of crim- inals answers * not guilty ' when tlie judge goes through the formula." Mr. Hazelwood, his usually serene face very red, drew himself stiffly up. THE BROTHERS. 4n "My boys know liow to tell the truth. Doctor Lanco, poor :i3 your opinion of them is. You may bclicvo them or not, and I shall do the same." Doctor Lance smiled contemptuously, and still stared through his spectacles at the little ones, who stood wonderfully quiet, gazing around them. Una had darted off to obey orders, and the two gen- tlemen were waiting in silence, when, with a strong rustling of silk, a lady swept down tlic staircase, her ribbons fluttering stormily in a breeze of her own mak- ing. A pretty lady ; fair, fat, and forty ; her ample form robed in stiff black silk, her black lace cap adorned with a plenitude of black satin streamers ; a diamond breastpin, the size of a small cheese-plate, on her broad breast ; jet eardrops in her ears, and jet brace- lets on her plump wrists. It was Mrs. Wood, with her brother's florid com- ])lexion, and the black eyes and hair of the Ilazlewoods. lie r black eyebrows raised very high, her black eyes ex- ceedingly wide open, her mouth in the same state, her hands ujdifted, and her whole face full of utmost cons- ternation, she swept in between them like a whirlwind. " What is it, Hugh ? What on earth is this ? Where in the world did these two children come from ?" 48 TUn BROTHERS. "Tluit'ri just "wliat 1 want some one to tell myself. I'm as nnicli in the dark as you arc !" "Susan said tlicro was a letter ! Where is it ? What does it say ? " "My dear Emily, don't get in such a gale ! The letter is here : but before you read it, look round you and see if you cau recognize an old friend !" Mrs. Wood for the first time turned her eyes on Doctor Lance, who made her a grave, stiff, old-fashioned bow. "0 my goodness! Doctor Lance! Why how do you do ? " shaking hands with the umost effusion. " What a stranger you are ! When did you come ?"' " Half an hour ago. I trust I pcc Mrs. 'Wood well ?" " Very well, thank you ! And where on cai'th," cried i\[rs. Wood, forgetting all about the children imme- diately — "have you been all these years, I declare." Whithout waiting for an answer ; " You are not the least chancred ! I should have known you anywhei*e." " And I would not have known you at all !" said Doctor Lance, in a tone that conveyed no compliment. "Ton years have changed you sufficiently !" "Do you hear thai, Emily ? ho means to say you are TOE BROTHERS. 40 growing old and fat," laughed Mr, Hazel wood. " Not much trace left of the sylpli-like Emily Ilazelwood — oh, Lance ?"' Doctor Lance gave a snort that might hayo implied anything, exe-ept perhaps dissent; and Mrs. "Wood, who inherited her brotiiiers good nature, shrugged her broad shoulders a)*d heaved a little sigh of resignation. " Years improve none of us, I am afraid ; and it's better to grow Moat and substantial than shrink into tlic 'lean and slippered pantaloon' Shakesperc or some- body else talks about. You have come to make a long visit of cour&e. Doctor Lance ?" " Business rcqaires my presence in New York for a few weeks. I tha«l stop no longer than is absolutely necessary, madam T " Tliat is too Jxaifl of you. At all events, yon will be our guest for thoK- lf<^w weeks ?" "Of course he w III !'' exclaimed Mr. Hazelwood. "He will not off«?n>i U3 by stopping anywhere else." " If such a trifle offends you, you must be offended then ! I remain at the A.->tor House while here ! It's of no use, Mr. Hazelwood," raising a warning linger as that gentleman was aboat to break out in expostulation. " You ought to know me well enough to be aware coax- 50 THE BROTHERS. ing will bo a waste of breath. Show Mrs. Wood the letter and sec what her woman's wit makes of it 1" Mrs. Wood took the letter, and ran her eye over it, setting up another scream of consternation at its close. "Your grandchildren ! Did you hear that, Hugh ? Good gracious me ! Can it be true ?" " Emily ! how can you ask such a question ?" Mr. Hazelwood sternly cried. " Of course, it can't be true !" " But, dear me, brother, it's so odd ! and young men arc such a set ! It's really the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of I" "Not so very extraordinary in this city. Such things happen every day," said Dr. Lance. "Come here, my dear," insiimated Mrs. Wood, holding out her motherly arms. "Come here and tell me your name ! Can they speak ?" "They can speak enough for that! Tills blue one calls herself Rosie. The pink one does nothing but yell. I took her up a moment ago, and she screamed blue murder ! I'll answer for the strength of her lungs, at any rate." "If there were only one, now," said Mrs. Wood, THE BliOrnERS. 61 a the \rer it, at its lagli ? ?" Mr. jaw't bo d young ordinary Such . Wood, licre aud :hi3 blue nothing and she strength ra. Wood, thoughtfully, " but two ! Such pretty little pots, too, and so bouutifiilly dressed I I wonder who their mother is ?" ** You had better ask yon nephew," suggested that spiteful Dr. Lanee. ''The whole affair is absurd and mysterious enough for a three-volume novel. Oh, here comes some one who may throw some light on the subject, perhaps." They all looked around. Una was coming down- stairs with a young gentleman in stylish evening- costume — a tall and handsome young gentleman, with dark bright eyes, black curling hair, and his father's pleasant face. It was Mr. Conway Hazelwood — grace- less Conway — whom Dr. Lance remembered as head mischief-maker at school, always getting into unheard- of scrapes, and always getting out again scot free by some mysterious sleight of hand of his own : half his time rusticated for his mad pranks : handsome Conway, whom everybody liked for his laughing black eyes and sunny smile : dashing Conway, with whom young ladies fell in love at first sight : daring Conway, who ran with the firemen, and had risked his neck a dozen times, climbing up burning ladders to save the lives of unfortunate forgotten wretches : gay, easy, 63 THE BllOTIlKRa. mirth-loving, hot-headed Conway Hazclwood ; one of tho "curled darlings of nature," the pride of his father's heart, who came running down-stairs now with eager face and outstretclicd hand : ** Dr. Lance, by all that's glorious 1 Morry Christ- mas, Doctor! It's ages ago sinco I'vo seen ou, and how has the world been using you all this tin "I have uotliing to complain of since I got rid of Mr. Conway Hazclwood," replied tho little Doctor, jerking away his hand from Conway's enthusiastic grasp; "what pranks have you been up to lately, young man ? Look there !" Conway looked, and gave a shrill whistle of sur- prise. " Two babies I You never mean to say. Doctor Lance, you have taken to matrimony in your old age. By Jove ! they're your very image !" "Well done, Conway!" cried his father, laughing, while tlie little Doctor turned his fiery eyes wrathfully on tlie speaker. " No sir ! don't try to shift tho burden of your own evil-doing on other shoulders ! They are not like me, but they are like Conway Hazclwood !" " Tliank you for tho compliment, sir. The little THE niiornEits. S3 ones aro uncommonly proity. I say, father, what talo of wonder is this Una tolls mo about ? — these two little items Ix'ing found in the hall. " "I know nothing more about it than Una does. Where are the rest ? " " Coming, sir," answered Una. And as she spoke, the younger sons of Mr. Hazel- wood made their appearance, coming down stairs. Except that both were well-dressed and of gentle- manly bearing, there was not the slightest trace of re- semblance between the brothers. Arthur was tall like Conway, but much slighter ; with fair, delicate features like a girl ; large light-blue eyes, something like Una's ; light-brown hair, worn long on his neck ; an irresolute undecided mouth, and altogether an effeminate appear- ance. Languid and listless, slow and lazy, a carpet- knight in every sense of the phrase ; very little of the stout Hazelwood blood had descended to him. Ho looked like the fairhaired woman whose portrait hung in the dining-room ; he inherited his nature from her as well as his looks and had been her pet and favorite all her life. Young ladies who visited his luxurious studio, where ho lounged in velvet slippers and cap, and oriental 54 THE BROTHERS. dressing-gown ; smoking cigars and painting charming little landscapes in the Chmdo Lorraine style, with romantic milkmaids in short red petticoats and pails on their heads, pronounced him the incarnation of the adjective "sweet," and went into raptures over his melancholy blue eyes and delicate, insipid characterless features. lie was looking very well just now, gotten up regardless of expense, and his blue eyes, were opened very wide in wonder at sight of the assemblage in tho ha]l. As much unlike his two elder brothers as it was possible to be was Doctor Lance's favorite, Eugene. No young ladies ever went in ecstacios over him or })ro- nounced him sweet. "Bear," "Monster," "Orson" were their jjct names for liim, and no one knew it better than the young gentleman himself. Low of stature and rather inclined to be stout, with a peculiarly short neck that gave him the appearance of being deformed, lie resembled ncitlier the tall handsome ILizclwood nor tho effeminate Saxon typo of his mother's race. But the dark face was full of character ; the thin, firm, com- pressed mouth ; tlio large, well shaped nose ; the rest- less, fiery eye ; the Inroad, pale brow projecting above — intellect was proudly written on all. Tho com])lexion THE BROTHERS. 65 was (liirk to swiivtliincss ; tl;o thick 1/lack brows meet- ing over the nose lent additional piercingness to tlie dct'i)ly sunken eyes : and the muscles around the thin bitter lips seldom relaxed into a smile. People said Conway had absorbed all the beauty and Eugene all the l)rains of the family; and Conway was ])ctted and caressed, and flattered and spoiled wherever he went, wliile Eugene was praised, and admired, and shunned as a proof which of the two gifts the world values most. And Eugene, knowing this, had grown up a sort of Islimael, with a morbidly-exaggerated sense of his own personal defects, his hand against every man'o, and, most of all against his tall and stately brothers, whom lu) envied with an intensity that was very like hatred. I'roud, fiery, sullen, passionate, cruel, and vindictive, he had one real admirer — and, perhaps, only one — Doctor Lance, with whom genii ^ was the greatest gift of God, and who desj)ised tlic never-do-well Conway and (lio languid Arthur with an honest heartiness that Would have delighted that stcrm lover of good-nature, Doctor Johnson. Una, on her way, had made them both aware of the arrival of their former tutor ; and given them a 56 THE BROTHERS. hasty sketch of the singuhir apparition of the twins, so that neither took them unawares. Eugene, who ai)pre- ciatcd Doctor Lance quite as much as tluit gentleman did him, hekl out his hand with unwonted cordiality. " Welcome to New York, Doctor ! I am very glad to see you ! What's all this hubbub about ?" " These babies don't belong to you, Doctor," lisped Arthur, staring languidly, wliilo he shook hands. " They're very pretty indeed. Look like two of Cor- reggio's smiling angels." " Angels some one of you three are accused of own- ing," said his father. " Ivead that letter aloud, Emily, and let me hear what they have to say for themselves." Mrt-.Wood, notliing loath, ready the pithy epistle from beginning to end ; and its effect on the three brothers was characteristic. Conway set \\\) an inde- corous laugh. Arthur's face was the very picture of lielpless bewilderment, and Eugene's dark brows knitted into a swarthy froAvn. "Now, then," their father demanded, watching them searchingly, "which of you does the letter mean." "I should say it meant we held a joint-i)artncrship in the affair, the three of us," answered laughing THE BROTHERS. 5T Conway. " Upon my word, tliat's the coolest piece of composition I have heard this many a day." *' By Jove !" said Arthur, still staring in helpless- ness, "it's the most astounding thing, isn't it ? Like a thing in a play or a story — eh ?" ** I don't see that there is anything so astounding about it," said Eugene, his blaek brows still knitted. '' There are more things in heaven and earth than you dream of in your simple philosophy, my good father." "By George ! Eugene's going to own up !" cried Conway, while every eye fix itself on tlio youngest son of Mr. Hazelwood, " still wafers run deep, they say, and after this I shall believe it ! LeL mc be the first to embrace my niece." He lifted the nearest one, the pink twin, in his arms as bespoke, and pressed his mustached mouth tt its cherry lips, and the little one, who had screamed at a like act from the father, nestled sociably in the arms of the son. " Young or old, the girls liko Conway," lauglicd his father, "the little vixens wouldn't look at me !" " Nature speaks loudly in the infant mim.1," sneered Engcne, with a look and tone of indescribable meaning, "it's a wise child knows its own father." 8* 58 THE BROTHERS. I ^ Conway's fjice flushed indignant red, and, putting down the little one as hastily as he had taken her up, he took a step forward and confronted his brother, with a dangerous light kindling in his dark eye. " Speak a little plainer, Eugene ; innuendos are cowardly things. Do you mean to aay — " " I mean to say," interrupted Eugene, returning the fiery glance with cool contempt, " that I believe the letter. Mr. Conway Hazelwood may translate this as best suits him." " Don't come to fisticuffs here, you two," drawled Arthur ; you'll spoil your clothes and disheyel your hair, and make frights of yourselves before Miss Thornton. By the way, Una, don't tell her what Eugene says, Conway's cake will be dough." "Which my dear brother Arthur would very much regret," said Conway, slirugging his shoulders and turn- ing away with a short laugh ; "you always were a pru- dent fellow, Arthur, and I'll take your advice. Eu- gene and I won't spoil our clothes about trifles ! After eight. Una," pulling out his watch, "are you almost ready ?" " I am quite ready," Una answered, but she lingered still, looking at her undo. That gentleman was stand- THE BROTHERS. 50 tting up, hvith are ing looking in perplexity from one to tlio other of his sons, and luilf indignantly at the keen smile on Doctor Lance's cynical lips. "And have you nothing to say to this charge before you go?" lio inquired, "none of you have denied it yet." "That's very easily done," said the smiling Conway ; "of course, we all deny it. Does the chirography throw any light on the subject, Eugene ?" Eugene had taken the letter from his aunt's hand and was examining it closely, lie folded it quietly now, and put it in his pocket. "I think it does — I think I have seen writing like this before. It is well disguised, but with the ])onnission of the company I will keep this document for a few days, at the end of which time I think I shall have found out all I want to know." " God speed you in your search ! Now be oflf and don your wrappings — I want to be early to-night." " Are you going to propose to Miss Thornton ?" asked Arthur. "No," said Conway, smiling ; "I shall wait until she has refused you first." "For shame, Conway!" exclaimed Mrs. Wood, 60 TEE BROTHERS. " what will Dr. Lance think of you all, bickering in this manner ?" **0h don't mind mo, I bog," exclaimed that little gentleman, in his blandest tones, *' I beg tlio young gentlemen will go on as usual, and never mind me." "And what am I to do Avith these little waifs, then?" inquired Mr. Ilazelwood ; "I hate to be im- posed on, or to seem to obey the impudent person who left them here ; but one hates to send such pretty little things to the almshouse." " So they do ; but if they were pug-nosed, and red- haired, and dressed in tatters, you could send them without the least compunction, now, I dare swear," said Doctor Lance, with his customary cynicism. " Oh, don't think of the almshouse," said Eugene. "It never would do for the future heiresses of the Hazelwoods to go there. Lot them stay, by all means. They will make very nice i)arlor-ornaments at a small price." His hat and overcoat were on his arm. Ho be- gan putting the former on, and Arthur to follow his example. Una came running down-stairs, in shawl and rigol- lette, carrying Conway's ; and Jenkins, the coachman, THE BROTHERS 61 made his appearance to let them known the carriage was waiting. "All right, Jenkins ; so are we," answered Con- way. " Come along, Una. Yes, father ; keep the little ones. There is no telling, as Eugene says, but they may turn out to be your grandchildren, after all." Uis laugh was puzzling, but there was no guilt in his face. Arthur, buttoning up his greatcoat, turned to fol- low Conway. " Are you not coming with us, Eugene ?" he in- quired, seeing Eugene standing watching the twins, as if fascinated. " No ; I prefer to walk. I don't doubt but that Conway will enjoy the drive quite as well without me." Conway, standing in the doorway, turned round with a smile on his face, and the eyes of the brothers met. Doctor Lance read the glance — defiance in the dark eyes, hatred and triumph in the light ones ! Then Conway, still with that doubtful smile on his handsome face, was gone, and Eugene was standing like a statue gazing at the children. " Loving brothers I" Doctor Lanco was sneering, 63 TEE APPLE OF DISCORD. inwardly. "What a beautiful thing is family-alTection I Mr. Couway had better take care. I would rather have a sleuth-hound on my track than Euguene Hazel- wood 1" CHAPTER IV, THE APPLE OF DISCORD. LONG drawing-room, liandsomely furnished, ablaze with lights, resounding with music, and occupied by a crowd of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen. Not too large a crowd. Miss Helen Thornton had too much good taste for that. There were not over thirty persons present, and all bosom-friends of Miss Thornton's. Judging from appearances, it was the most sociable of sociables — a sort of Liberty Hall, where every one did as they pleased, and. made themselves altogether at hq^me. One group at the upper end had formed a set, and were bow- ing and dipping through the Lancers ; the card-tables in the cozy recesses were occupied by a very noisy lot of elderly ladies and gentlemen ; further down, a damsel in sky-blue, with very powerful lungs, was seated at a THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 68 grand piano, hallooing some shrill operatic gem, with piercing accuracy, to whoever chose to listen ; some stood in little knots here and there, flirting and laugh- ing ; Bome lounged on the sofas, playing wall-flower, and a few were wandering in and out of a conservatory opening out of the drawing-room. Over all, a German band, jiercbwl up in a gilded gallery, among the glar- ing gaslight?, were thundering forth dance-music ; and a vast Christmas tree near the centre of the apartment, perfectly dazzling to look at, with Santa Claus, gray, withered, and frosty, guarding it, told what the festi- val was thev were celebrating. Standing beside the Christmas tree, a fairer guardian than old Santa Clans, flrting with half-a-dozen young men, was a liright-eyed, rose-cheeked, piquant little lady, arrayed in flowing amplitude of thick satin, under white tulle, blushroses in her brown braids and corsage, and a fan fparkling with its jeweled setting in her coquettish band. It was Miss Helen Thornton, beauty, belle, and hesre:s, and u coquette born. You could see it in the diplomatic way she gave a smile to this one, a brilliant glance to that, a speaking droop of tlio eyes to the other, and a merry word to all ; but any one inter- ested in watching her could have seen she was wait- M THE APPLE OF DISCORD. ing impatiently for some one yet to appear. Her eyes wandered every moment to the door ; and by-and-by her little foot began beating the devil's tattoo on the carpet, and tlic flusli that impatient waiting brings, began to grow hot on her cheeks. It grew so palpable at last that one of the admirers about her spoke : "Are yon watching for the Marble Guest, Miss Thornton, that you look so often at that door ? Who can the favored one bo, for whose coming that im- patient watch is kept ?" Miss Thornton did not reply, but her face sud- denly brightened, and a quick smilo and flusli rose to her pretty face. The waiting look disappeared — the watched-for one had evidently come. The acute gentleman who had spoken looked round to see a slender little girl, dressed in white as became her years, with a face more remarkable for its utter absence of color tliau its beauty, and a gentlemanly but languid-looking young man, suflBciently well-looking, with blonde hair and complexion, like the girl. Was it for these two Miss Thornton was waiting, then ? Hardly, for her eyes wandered with a look of expectation once more to the door, even while she took an eager step forward to meet the young girl. THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 60 ** You diirling Una !" was her cry, kissing her with young lady-like vim. " Why did you nut come earlier ? I am tired to death waiting for you, and began to give you up. How do you do, Mr. llazelwood? Merry Christ- mas to you !" " You might treat us all alike," said Arthur, as sho shook hands with him. " I hope you have been wait- ing for me, too !" "Miss Thornton has been waiting for some one — I'll answer for that !" said the young man who spoke before. " Come along llazelwood — let's have a look at the dancers." "Are you two alone ?" asked Miss Thornton, looking at the door again. " Where's Eugcuo and — Conway ?" " Conway's down in the cloakroom, talking to your father, and Eugene will bo here directly. He did not leave the house with us. What a pretty Christmas tree that is !" Miss Thornton's most radiant smile was on her face now — what in this last speech had evoked it, sho best knew. Ilcr Jeweled fingers began playing with the glittering trifles dangling and scintillating from its branches. ee THE APPLE OF DISCORD. *' Yes, isn't it ? I had tho greatest time choosing gifts and arranging them over was. Wluit kept you so late ?" "Oh, tlie most wonderful thing ever was heard of I Do you know some one left two children in our hall to- night !" " Two what F" inquired Miss Thornton, opening her eyes. " Two children !" " Yes, two children, twins, and tho pretiest ever were scon ! Wo don't know how they ever came there, or a thing about it. Susan, the chambermaid, found them as she Avas going up stairs." *' Well, I declare ! Some poor person who was not able to take care of them, and knew how good your uncle is, did it, I dare say." "Oh no — they can't belong to a poor person ; they were beautifully dressed, in silks and furs, and their underclothes embroidered lovely ! Besi'^os, there camo a note with them — that is tho oddest part of the affair ; and what do you think was in it ?" "How should I know ? Perhaps it told who they were ?" " Yes, and that is where the wonder comes in ! It told uncle they were his grandchildren !" THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 67 " What !" cxclaimtU Miss Thornton, vividly inter- ested. " You never mean to say — " " Yes, I do, too ; and uncle called down the boys, and we all had a council of war over it before we came out. That's what detained us !" said Una, laughing. " my goodness, and what did they— what did Conway say ?" " Well, you know Conway. He laughed as he does at everything, and began nursing them, treating the whole thing as a joke ; and Arthur, he stared and said * By Jove,' and Eugene turned as black as a thunder- cloud, and got into one of his tantrums. I do believe he suspects Conway." "Oh, Una!" cried Miss Thornton, turning crim- son, " it can't be true !' " Of course not ! but it is just like Eugene to sus- pect Conway for everything. He is as jealous as a Turk !" ''What is he jealous about ?" asked Miss Thornton, putting on an innocent look. "You ask!" said Una, significantly. "I should think you knew better than I do, a poor simple little schoolgirl !" They both laughed. Certainly she did not look 68 THE APPLE OF DISCORD. very simple just then. Miss Una Forest was wise enougli in her generation. " Bat about the children," said Miss Thorntorn, coming l)ack to that interesting subject. ** Was that all the letter said ?" " It told their names — Evangeline and Eosamond — pretty, are they not ? Also that theii nother's name was Starr, and that they were sent as a Christmas pres- ent by yours respectfully, Santa Claus. That was all !" 'MVell, it's the strangest thing I ever heard of. Of course, the assertion m the letter is false ? Your cousins denied it at once, did tliey not ?" " It was too absurd to deny. It was just a ruse of the person who left them to make uncle keep them. I heard Conway laughing over it with your father, down-stairs." "It takes them a good while to talk it over, it seems to me," said Miss Thornton, rather pettishly ; '* hero comes Arthur back again — what does lie want ?'' Arthur wanted a partner — there was going to bo a waltz, would Miss Thornton favor him with her hand ? Yo>!, !Miss Thornton was always ready for a waltz; but as she was taking the proffered arm she suddenly halted. Mr. Thornton, an old man of the THE APPLE OF DISCORD. eo same stamp as Mr. Hazel wood — "frosty but kindly" — was just eutoring with Conway Ilazelwood. "Wait one minute, Mr. Artliur," was Miss Helen's cry, "I want to speak to papa." Had Mr. Conway Hazelwood not been with papa, it is doubtful whether the young lady would have found it so necessary to stop on the verge of the waltz. The question she had to ask was not very important ; but she got for her pains a little thrilling hiiiidclaijp from his companion, and a glance from the dark bright eyes that brought all her roses into play. "What arc you all about hero?" inquired Mr. Thornton. " Wliy arc you not dancing, Mr. Arthur ?" "I am going to, sir, as soon a.-? Mi-ss Helen is ready." "I am quite ready now. Oil, hero is the other truant at last !" Eugene was lust entering. Conway glanced at him, and then at Miss Thcnton moving away with Arthur. "Engaged for the n)xt quadrille? No? Glad to hear it ! may I have the honor ?" Miss Thornton, who would have been only too happy to have danced through life witli the speaker, Bignilled her assent, and was wiiirlcd away by Arthur. Half the people in tiu; room were spinning round lile 70 THE APPLE OF DISCORD. teetotums ; and they floated in and out among them, until tired, and giddy, and fluslicd, they subsided on a sofa. It was in a shady corner, and Arthur, with the inspiriting music of the German band in his ears, and a pretty young lady beside him, grew inspired. "I like a nico firtation By tlie light of a chandelier, With music to fill up the pauses, And nobody very near," he quoted. " N. P. Willis should be in my place now." " To flirt with me ! You forget it takes two to make a bargain ! How do you get on with my portrait ?" "Better than I ever got on with a portrait in my life ; but such a sitter would make a Rubens of the veriest dauber that ever smeared canvas." " Thank you, sir ! I was perfectly sure you would say that," said Miss Thornton, settling one of her brace- lets with infinite composure. "You have made the same speech to every young lady whose face you have immortalized, of coi rse." "No — I always mean what I say I" Miss Thornton laughed outright, a most musical and most incredulous little peal. Arthur looked at her thinkiug how proity, and graceful, and rich she was, TUB APPLE OF DISCORD. 71 and what a charming thing it would be to carry her off from her host of admirers, with his two brothers at their licad. "You don't believe me ?" he said. "Oh, to be sure I believe you ! Who could doubt a gentleman who always means what he says ?" " Miss Thornton, I mean more than that ! Will yoa believe me when I say I love you ?" "Mr. Ilazelwood!" "It is true, Helen— I do love you ! May I venture to hope I am not absolutely hateful to you r Ho had gone through the formula with remarkable composure for a man whoso heart's best affections, and so on, were at stake, and attempted at the close of his last speech to take her hand. But Miss Thornton drew back and rose up precipitately. "I am very sorry, Mr. Arthur, that you should have said this ! I shall always be liappy to be your friend, but— Oh, here is your l)rother ! Pray excuse me." It was not the brother she wanted ; it was Eugene who came to her relief ; but she took his arm with an alacrity not very usual with hor sex, when Eugene Ilazelwood was concerned. Eugene's keen eye glanced from face to face, from 73 TEE APPLE OF DI300RD. the flushed and excited countenance of the girl to the deeply-mortified cue of his brother, and saw at once what had passed. It was a characteristic and striking trait of the Hazelwood brothers that one of them never wanted anything but the others were sure to cast a covetous eye on the same. A look of determination settled on the dark face of tlie vonngcr brother. "ItisA'ory hot here — come into tlie conseiTatory a moment. You look flushed, Miss Thornton !" "I have promised to dance with Conway, but I sup- pose I have a few minutes to spare, and it is rather oi^pressivo here ! Is that Una singing 'Love not ?' No, it is Fanny Grant — how well slie sings it !" ** 'Love uot ! love ]u)t ! Avarning vainly said !'" Eugene repeated after the singer. "Mrs. Xorton never wrote anything truer in lier life. It is an old fashion the world will adhere to to the last." Miss Thornton looked at him an instant without speaking, and glanced away again ; but those piercing eyes read what her lips had not courage to speak. "Yes, Miss Thornton, I know how to love, tiiough my dear five hundred friends will hardly give me credit for it. I am not the heartless Orson they take me to be, for, Ilelen Thornton, I love you I" THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 73 Miss Tliornfcou absolutely screamed — it was so unexpected to her, so almost shocking, from such a quarter. "Is tliat tlie way young ladies listen to suclx things, Helen ?" he asked, bitterly, reading bis fate at once in lier undisguised terror ; "or is it only when an ugly hunchback proposes that tlicy shriek ? I repeat it, I love you, I wish to make you my wife— I will do my best to make you happy ! Am I accepted ? Have the goodness to answer me — yes or no." It was rather a savage, and altogether an uncom- fortable way of making sucli a tender proposal. Helen, witli a white face and startled eyes, looked around her, as if for some means of escape, but Eugene held her tight. '* Speak !" ho said, breathing hard, for he was of a most excitable temperament ; "• speak ! yes or no !" '* 0, Mr. Uazehvood, my— oh, please don't be angry, but— but— " " You refuse me, tlieu ! Is that what you mean ?" "0, Mr. Ilazelwood, let me go ! Conway, I am glad you liave eome !" The cry came from her friglitened lieart and so did the eager spring she made toward some one who stepped 74 THE APPLE OF DISCORD. from behind some tull plants. It was Conway Hazel- wood, cool, easy, nonclialant as usual ; and Uelcn, really exceedingly terrified by Eugene's fiery eyes, clung to him as a woman will to the man she loves. That little act, involuntary as it was, told her secret. Conway smiled a little as ho drew her closer to him. "I beg you will excuse me, Eugene," he said, looking at his brother, '' but I overhear your conversa- tion with Miss Thornton. I could not help it, and I beg you Avill not make a scene, as I see you are about to do. If you have anything to say to me, wait until we are alone. You have startled Miss Thornton sufficiently already. Come, Helen, I have been searching for you !" There was no mistaking Helen's eager willingness to obey, and they were gone almost before Eugene knew it. He did not follow them directly. He stood by the win- dow Conway had so lately left, looking out on the bright frosty night and gaslit street. The sounds of music and dancing, laughing and merry-making, came to his listening ears from the drawing-room ; but how these revelers would have started had they seen the black scowl on his brow, the terrible fire in his weird eyes ! For nearly half an hour he lingered there, brooding over his own ominous thoughts, and THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 76 thcu ho turned aud walked slowly back to the ballroom. The first he mot were Conway and Helen ; the girl cling- ling fondly to his arm, her pretty face face all aglow with 'love, and pride, and happiness ; he smiling, graceful, handsomer than ever. It was quite plain he had been following the exam- ple of his two brothers, and had met with a very differ- ent answer. Helen Tliornton had got all she wanted, and was for the time being perfectly happy. But per- fect happiness in this world is a plant of very fragile growth, and seldom lives over half an hour at a time. As her eyes fell on the face of Eugene, darkened by a look that was almost devilish in its hatred and envy, she recoiled, as she had done before, with a suppressed shriek. He spoke to neither, only glanced at them for a second, and was gone. Conway broke into a laugh. " High tragedy, upon my honor ! That look would make Eugene's fortune on the stage of the Bowery Theater." "0 Conway ! how can you laugh ? I am frightened to death of him. I am afraid you and he will quar- rel !" " We do that every day of our lives, petite. Dr. 76 TnE HAZEL WOODS AT HOME. Wnits sings of brotherly love — I wish he were in onr house for a Avliilc to sec how we practice it." "0 Conway, don't quarrel with him. Mercy, don't 1 Promise me you will not." *' I will not if I can help it ; don't make mo prom- ise any tiling more. Come and sing for me, dearest ; there is notliing to wear that frightened face about." Is there not ? Let your bride sing for you while she may, Conway Hazelwood, for her singing-days are nearly over. CHAPTER V. THE HAZELWOODS AT HOME. T was after dinner in ^Ir. Ilazcl wood's. In the pretty dining-room, "curtained, and close, and warm," a bright fire burned cheerily; and in his cushioned arm-oliair, in genial after-dinner mood, the head of the Ilazelwoods sjit. To bo genial was Mr. Hugh Hazelwood's mood at all times ; but this evening, in slippers and smoking-cap, one leg crossed over the other, and the ruddy brightness of ilie THE HAZELWOODS AT HOME. 17 I'tl To fire casting its warm reflections on liis face, he was looking even more genial than usual. Pcrluips the fact of his whole famjk being assembled around him had something to do with Lis state of felicity ; for his three sons were present. A very uncommon sight indeed it was to see Messienrs Conway, Arthur, and Eugene Hazelwood dmmg together at home ; and the fact of their being tiac-re this particular evening was probably owing to the dreiiini«tance of their father having given a dinner-party imm which they could not very well stay away. Tiie dinnc-r was over, and the guests all gone now, and Mrs. Wood and Una had just made their appearance t-o mf^uhc how the dinner had gone off. "Capitally, Emily/' ilr. Iluzelwood was saying, "notliing could hare been better. The dinner, thanks to you and the c»>ok, was perfection, and thawed out even our crusty friend Lance. By the way, Emily," with a mellow little laugh, "lie used to be an old ad- mirer of your.?. wa?n'E ho ? lie's a rich man now, and you a fine woinaa yet ; who knows what may come of this visit, eh r Mrs. Wood, seated in state in another armchair, opposite her bixjther, her ample form robed in black silk, stiff, siiilelj and rustling, filling it as if it wore 78 THE UAZELWOODS AT HOME. made for her; the firc-liglit and gaslight glistening on her watch-chain, and round, rosy, good-natured face, her plump white hands, cased in black-lace mits, folded one over the other in her lap, actually blushed like a girl of eighteen Conway, leaning against tho mantel, his handsome face flushed with the heat of tho fire, and liis father's crusty old port, looked over at her with a laugh. "I thouglit the old fellow had somo deeper object in coming hero than merely to renew his acquaint- anceship with the governor. So ho used to be ono of your beaux, auntie ! By Jove ! the idea of old Lance in love is as good as a play !" " Nonsense, Conway, hold your tongue ! Why shouldn't Dr. Lance fall in love, if ho chooses, as well as anybody else ?" "Conway thinks," said Una, who, robed in pale blue, and looking very pretty, seated on an ottoman, jit her uncle's feet, with her profuse light hair all combed back off her face — " Conway thinks no one has a right to fall in love but himself, and it has become a chronic complaint with him." Conway looked at the childish-looking figure of the girl with an odd look. " What do you know about love. THE III Z/'JL WOODS AT HOME. TO Mademoiselle ? Little girls should mind their horn- hooks instead of talking of tlio grande passion. Per- haps you have heen taking private lessons, though, from — Eugene, for instance?" Eugene, who sut at tahle playing solitaire, and say- ing nothing, looked up at his handsome brother. *' You would make tlie better teacher of the two, my good brother," he said. " It is your trade, y )U know. As nature never creates anything utterly good for nothing, tlie few brains she gifted you with, you did well to devote to some purpose, even though it bo to the imbecile one of becoming a hidy killer. It's the regular profession of half the kid-gloved idiots of Broadway, and Conway Ilazelwood makes as good a simpleton as the best of them." " Now, you boys, stop quarrelling," interposed Mrs. Wood. *' Can't you be agreeable for once ? We don't enjoy your united society so often that you need fight when we arc so blessed. Arthur, what are you doing ? Writing love-letters ?" "Drawing Conway's portrait," lisped the artist, who had been sketching busily for the last few mimitcs. "Eugene, what do you think of it ?" "An admirable likeness," said Eugene, with his 80 THE HAZEL WOODS AT HOME!. bitter smile, and Una jumped up and peeped over his shoulder. " What a shame, Arthur ! You ought to have your cars boxed ! What do you think, Conway ? he has drawn you with a donkey's head, kneeling before a set of simpering idiots, who are laughing at you behind their fans I Give it here, Eugene, until I tear it up." The smile on Conway's face never altered. *' Don't trouble yourself, Una ; it's only the old story of the fox and the grapes over again. I can afford to be magnanimous, after the way they both came to grief the other night at Miss Thornton's. How does it feel to bo jilted, Eugene ? Was it you or Arthur she refused first ? Ah ! you feel hurt, do you ? The old proverb which says, ' They laugh best who laugh last ' is a wiae one after all." Eugene's face turned as dark as a thundercloud, but Arthur only shrugged his shoulders and went on draw- ing caricatures of his elder brother. Conway turned his careless, smiling face to his father, who sat looking uneasy and distressed. " I have a piece of news for you that I think you will like, father. You have been wanting me this long time to quit my roving life and THE IIAZELWOODS AT HOME. 81 settle down into a sensible married man. I am about to take your advice. I am going to bo married." " My dear boy, and to wliom ?" Conway ran his fingers tlirongh his luxuriant, curl- ing hair, and looked at his brothers with that galling smile of triumph, both in his eyes and on his lips. "There is only one girl in the city I would marry, father ; and I think you will approve my choice. She loves me and I love her. The young lady's name is Helen Thornton." There was a moment's silence. The eyes of Conway and Eugene met in a long and ominous glance ; the one shining with that smile of triumph and defiance, the other terrible wilh hatred and menace. Arthur, trying to look easy and indifferent, went on with his drawing, but his hand shook and his face flushed. Una's blue eyes glanced stealthily from one to the other, and she alone saw the deadly menace in the fiery eyes of Eugene. Mrs. Wood, to whom it was all news, opened her eyes in innocent wonder, and Mr. Hazelwood hold out his hand to his eldest son in undisguised delight. "My dear Conway, I congratulate you with all my heart. You could not have chosen a bride more accept- 4* 83 THE UAZELWOODS / T HOME. able to me, had yon tried until doomsday. LitUo Helen is the best and prettiest girl in New York, and old Thornton is worth a mint of money. My dear boy, this is indeed pleasant news. AVhen is the affair to come off ?" " Do you mean my marriage, sir ? "Very ehortly, now. The precise day has not been fixed, but it will be within a month, at the furthest." " Then it is all decided. Have you spoken to Mr. Thornton ?"' "I had an inteiYiow with him this morning, sir. He is as much pleased as you are." " Xo doubt ; how could ho be otherwise, having such a son-in-law," said Eugene, whoso face had turned fearfully white, though his voice was as calm as ever. "Did yon cell him, Conway, of our Christmas present ? Who knows bat the mamma of those interesting babes may drop in to wish you joy on your wedding-day ?" "With all my heart ! I shall bo very happy to see her, as any one should be to sec his — sister-in-law ! She ought to be pretty too, judging by her offspring, and I am never so happy as when in the society of pretty women. Tell her to come, Eugene, by all means !" THE HAZELWOOBS AT HOME. 83 "Now, you boys!" Mrs. ^oocl once more shrilly interrupted. " Can't you stop fighting ! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you two, worrying your father to death, and leading us all such a cat-and-dog life ! If Miss Thornton knew the quarrelsome set you arc, she would jump into the fire, or cut her right hand off, before she ever would sign her name Mrs. Ilazelwood." Eugene turned his dark, bitter face to his aunt, with au ominous smile, prophetic of future evil, light- ing it still. "Eest easy, my good aunt! Miss Thornton may remain ignorant of the heavenly life of brotherly unity we lead here, and still never sign her name Mrs. Conft-ay Ilazelwood. When there are two moons in yonder sky, my dear elder brother, she may be your bride— not before !" Conway laughed carelessly. "The age of miracles is passed, Eugene. The wedding-day will be in less than a month ; and there is ii wise old proverb which tells us barking dogs seldom bite !" " And there is another proverb, equally wise, which Bays, there is many a slip between the cup and lip." 84 rilE nAZFA.WOODS AT noMF^. " Quite Irup ! We may all die, and be in our graves, before that time ; bnt unless something of that kind occurt!, II((len Thornton will as certainly be my wife before another montli, as tliat Eugene llazclwood was jilted Ijy her on Christmas eve. Spare your threats, Eugeno, I am not afraid of you ; for whatever wonder- ful event stops our marriage, it is most assuredly not of your power to do it !" " That remains to be seen ! A great deal may hap- pen in a month! Helen Thornton did refuse mo, did refuse Arthur, and did accept you on Christmas eve ; but it is all labor lost. She rnay not bo my wife. I would not marry her now if I could ; but,'' and he rose from his seat, with a wolfish glare m his fiery eyes, " but, Conway llazclwood, she never will be yours ! Do you hear — never !" The rest stared aghast, but careless Conway, leaning negligently against the mantel, still retained his provok- ing smile. "Quite tragic that, ui)on my word ! What are you going to do, Eugene — murder us both ?" There is many a true woi.l spoken in jest ! Not one there but reincinl)ered Ihul (jucstion so ligiitly spoken, in the terr ble after-days. Eugene did not answer, only THE IJAZErWOODS AT HOME. glared at his brother in silence, and in either eye pat a devil. Even languid Arthur, despite the flimsy state of all his emotions, looked ratJier pale and startled; and Mr. Ilazelwood rose from his chair, white and stern. "Bo} ■' he said, in a tone seldom heard from those kindly lips, "no more of this ! I command you by the authority of a father to never repeat this scene in my prosence. Shame on you, Conway ! It is well jour mother is in her grave before she ever lived to hear her first-born, her favorite son, talk to his younger ])rother like this ! Shame on you. Eugfue, to allow your jeal- ousy to carry you so far ! Where is your boasted Avis- dom now ? The best thing you both can do is, to go to your rooms, take your Bibles, and read the story of Cain and Abel. Go ! I am ashamed of you both !" Ho sank down in his seat, with one trembling hand over his face. Dark, moody, sullen Eugene stood, but Conway was bending over him directly, with a remorse- ful face. " Father, forgive me. I should have remembered before wiiom I was speaking. Come, Eugene, forget and forgive. We botli of us s;iy more than w(> mc;in, I am sure !" lie held out his hand, but Eugene turned gloomily away. 86 THE UAZELWOODS AT HOME. "So bu it, then," said Comvay, ''war oi- peace ; itia all the same to me,, but I .sliall obey vou, fathc. In your presence such a scene shall never take place again." Tiiere was a taj) at the door, and a rosy little nur- sery-maid presented herseli' with a curtesy to Mrs. Wood. "If yon please, Ma'am, I wish yon would come up to the nursery. I can't get Miss Hazel to bed, and she kee})s them twins awake with her noise, and I can't do nothing with none of them." " There's English for you, Una," said Conway, chuck- ing that young lady under the chin as ho jiassed. " Come along, auntie, I'll go with you to the nursery. I haven't seen ' them twins ' since the night of their arrival, and I want another look at them." " Perfectly natural," said Eugene, in a low, mocking voice, " who would wish to sec them if their father would not ?" Conway glanced at him coolly, no way daunted by his fiery stare. " At it again, my good brother. I don't think you will stop until you tempt me to thrash you within an inch of yonr life — a feat yon know I could easily accom- TUE HAZELWOODS AT HOME. 87 plish ! Come along, uuiitio— accei»t my arm to tlic nur- sery ! Lead the way, Jane, we follow ! G(jo(l night all, and pleasant dreams !" *' Good night, Conway," Mr. Ilazolwood said kindly. " Good night, cousin," Una repeated, nestling close to her uncle's side, and looking fearfully at Eugene. Even Arthur wished good-night, but the younger brother never spoke ; no effigy in marble could have stood more dark and motionless than he. But hand- some Conway only smiled at him, and went out hum- ming the refrain of an old French song : " To-day for mc, To-inorrow for tliee 1 But will tliat to-morrow ever be 1" " And if ever 1 saw the old demon in any human face," said ^hs. Wood, going up-stairs, and speaking in an awe-struck undertone, '*it was in Eugene's to-niglifc. Be careful, Conway ; he is savage any way, and tlicro is no telling what jealousy may tempt him to do. Hero we are at the nursery. Do hoar the roars of those young ones ! and it's all my Hazel's fault, for the twins are as good as gold. Come in." 88 TEE WEDDING-NIOUT. CHAPTER VI. THE WEDDIXG-XIGHT. N that same pleasant room where tlie Hazel- wood family had been assembled the night before, Mr. Hazelwood, his sister, and nieco pat at breakfast. A pretty little bronze clock on the mantel was just chiming eight — for the head of the Hazelwoods liked early hours — and the yellow wintry sunshine streaming warmly through the curtained win- doAvs fell brightly on the glittering silver and china service : brightly nn the ruddy, kindly face of Mr. Hazelwood ; bri lilly on !Mrs. Wood's satin ribbons and golden trinkets — for Mrs. Wood made a point of being always resplendent to look at ; and no less brightly on the pale-gold hair, delicate white face, vauX pretty morn- ing-dress of blue merino, trimmed with white, worn by the half Albino, Una Forest. The junior Messrs. Hazelwood wore not tlioro ; it would have been most astonishing if they had been, and altogether out of the usual order of tilings. Eugene, though invariably, winter and summer, up at five, rarely left his room before eleven, and had his break- Till'] WEDDING-XranT. 89 fast sent up to liitn at ten. Artlmr never rose before nine, and then loiingod down-lown to lii.s studio, and took his niatiniil meal tlicre. Conway, like Eugene, '.vas an early bird ; but he was off, according to custom, for a breezy morning ride through tiie park, and might possibly drop in to !Mr. Thornton's to breakfast, or patronize a restaurant, or come home any hour before mid-day, as the humor took him. The trio, then, at the breakfast-table, had no need to wait for the three truants, and went on drinking their tea and eating their muffins without them, qtiite as a matter of course. Mrs. AVood, at the head of the table, was holding forth to her three auditors with an energy and volubdity that made her round, good-natured face, red enough at all times, ten degrees redder than ever. " And Avhatever I am to do with her I can't tell," she was saying. " I've talked to lier, and I've whipped her, and sent Iier to bed witli a spanking and no supper, and it's all no use. It's worse she's getting, instead of better, and she'll be the torment o '. my 1 i f e- -I know she will ! Why don" t you try the beefsteak, Hugh ? It's not too rare." "The beefsteak's well enough," said her brother, . 90 THE WEDDIXG NIOHT. helping himself ; " {incl so is little Huzol. I like her all the better for ]iiivin2f a little life. I never ditl like Solomons in pinafores, and never will. Let the child be lively and have her fling ; the world will sober her soon enough." "Ilave her fling!" cried Mrs. "Wood, in tones of indignation. "That's all very well for you to say, brother, that has none of the bother ; but if you had to change her clothes five times a day, and then have her always looking as dirty as a little pig, and if she matted her hair all in a bunch, after you curled it, with molasses-caudy, and smeared her face with soot and mustard till she looked like a — like a — " (Mrs. Wood hesitated for a simile forcible enough) "like a live kangaroo, after you'd washed it, and if sh'^ screeched and kicked till she turned black in the face because you wouldn't let her soak her shoes in her soup, perhaps you'd sing another song than * let her have her fling !' Fling, indeed ! It's nothing but fling she does from morning till night, and from night till morning. Una, pass me me your cup, and 1*11 give you some more coffee." Una, looking quietly around, obeyed ; and Mr. Hazelwood, quite quenched for the time being by this THE WEDDINOmanT. 91 eloquent ontbarst, ate liis stciik and toast in pen. ive silence. Mr5. Woo<], liaving replenished the empty cup, let her t^ifil'mgA get the better of her, and burst out again : "And there's them twins! The life thoy lead with that little limb is too horrid to tliinlc of ! Siie wouldn't leave a spear of hair in their heads, or an eye in their face she womldn't claw out, if she had her way ; and if she does not starre them yet, it Till be a mercy, for they never i^t a thing she doesn't grab from them. Her fling, ind'eed ! And it's all Conway's fault ; he will fetch her cartloads of candy, in spite of everything I can Bay, and teach her to dance jigs and double-shuffles, and EiDg ECgro songs and all sorts of wickedness ; and she minds fcim, and pays no more attention to me or Jane than if we were two old shoes ! Let him wait till he gets children of his own, as I tell him, and see how he likes it ! But, then, it's of no more use talking to Conway tlaan it is to Ilazcl — he only laughs in your face and behaves worse tlie next minute than ever ! Come m V This last invitation was in answer to a rap at the door and Susan made her appearance with a little three-cor- nered note. 08 THE WEDDINONIOHT. "It's foi' you, Miss Uiiii," slie said, delivering it, **tlie postman lias just gone." Una tore tlio perfumed note open and ran over its contents. ** Who is that cocked-hat from, Snowbird ?'' inrpiircd Mr. Ilazelwood, "not a love-letter, I hope." Una lauglied. " It sounds like one, uncle. Listen and I'll read it for you." "My own Dear Darling Una :— I suppose Con- way — dear, dear Conway — has told you all before this. Oh, I am just tlic iiai)piest girl in the Avorld, and I want you to come and see me riglit away. You are to be bride- maid, you know. Won't that be charming ? Wlien you come, my dearest, bring tliose darling twins with you, if possible. I should like to see them, of all things. Adieu, love. Be sure to come to-day to see " Your loving friend. Helen." "From Miss Thornton, eh? Well, go, of course, and take Jane and the little ones along. It's quite natural little Xelly should want to see them. I say, Emily," leaning over tlie table, his face all agloAV, " isn't it fortunate Conway is going to make such a match ? Do you know, now, I always was afraid of that boy's going and throwing himself away on THE WEDDINO-NTOnT. 98 an opcrii-iliincer, or an uctrc-'s, or something of that sort. Tliaiik Heaven ! liiri clioico has fallen on Helen Thornton I" *'Aii(l it never would have fallen on her," said Mrs. Wood, f-hortly, "you may depend, only his two brothers wanted her. Oh, they're a preeious lot of 'em, figiiling for everything, like so many curs over a bone !" Mrs. Wood, despite her good-nature, was inclined to use very forcible language sometimes, and had, when roused, a decided temper of her own. Keep on the right side of her, and she was sweet as summer cher- ries ; cross her, and — well, you must take the con- Bcquences. Mr. Hazel wood, being a sensible man, never i)resumed to contradict her at such times, and now linished his coffee, and arose. ** I believe I have some letters to write to-day, and it is time I was at them. What a nuisance letter-writ- ing is ! Una, give my love to little Nelly, and tell her I'll be lown in the cour>:'e of the day to give it to her in pert' in." ;Mr. Hazelwood sauntered to the library, Mrs. Wood bustled oil to attend to her housekeeping duties, and Una went up to the nursery to tell Jane to dress tlie IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / / V..V ■" % 4Si ^ .^^% 1.0 I.I 11.25 1.8 .^. Va <^ /: y /A Pholographic Sciences Corporation J3 WfST MAIN STRBBT WfBSTER.N.Y. M5«0 (716) 873-4503 ^ <^^ 'i cS^ > 04 THE WEDDTNQ-NIGHT. twins, and hold ' orself in readiness to accompany her to Miss Thornton's. Then she tripped np to her own pretty chamber to array lierself in street-costume, and half an hour after reajipeared, looking very fair and charming, in a most becoming hat witli blue ribbons and white plumes, a dark-bluo velvet cloak trimmed with white furs, that set ofE her satin-smooth skin and redundant light hair to perfection. "Are you ready, Jane?" she inquired, opening tho nursery door. Yes, Jane was quite ready, and so were Misses Rosa- mond and Evangeline. Very lovely the two latter young creatures looked, in short frocks and capes of rose-colored merino elaborately braided, their long black ringlets freshly curled falling from beneatli crimson hoods, their eyes like black stars, their cheeks rosy flame. IIow to tell one from the other seemed a mys- ery at first, but Una's keen blue eyes were never at a loss. She had discovered that Evangeline was a little bit taller, a little longer every way, and had much more of a temper of her own than her sister, but tho strong likeness puzzled every one else. They followed Jane now down-stairs after Una, and got into a little carriage that Conway had sent home for their use. Tho dis- THE WEDDING-NIQET. U tanco to Mr. Thornton's was short, tho day mild and sunshiny, and Una was a good walker. As they went down iho avenue, every one they met turned to look after the pretty girl in blue, and the two beautiful cnil- dren in rose and crimson. Una returned every look "with an American girl's cool stare, until she reached her friend's house. A servant in livory admitted them. Miss Thornton was ut home, and as Una was sending up her card, came flying down stairs, in a white morning- wrapper, and in a state of deligiited excitement, and, catching Miss Forest in her arms, kissed her raptur- ously a dozen times. "You darling girl I how good of you to come right away after receiving my note ! Una ! isn't it all de- lightful, and ain't you glad !" " Very glad, Helen, and so are all at home. Uncle sends his love, and says he will come to sec you some- time to-day." " What a kind soul he is ! isn't he, Una ? Oh, are these tho twins ? Why, what a pair of beauties they are ! Una ! they are perfectly lovely !" " Yes, they arc very pretty. Do you think they look like any one you have ever seen ?" Miss Thornton looked up with a sly little laugh. 06 THE WEDDINO-KIOHT. " They look like the Iliizol woods, Una ! I begin to believe thut note after all," " Oh, nonsense ! Jane, you can wait here. Let us go uivstairs, Helen ; you can inspect the little ones there at your leisure." Miss Thornton, holding one of the twins in her arms, led the way to her boudoir, wliile Una led the other by the hand. Here, propitiated by slices of plumcake, Miss Evangeline and Rosamond allowed themselves to bo inspected without protest. ** Oh, they are perfect loves !" Miss Thornton, who was a little of the gushing order, cried rapturously. "Such splendid eyes, such beautiful curls, such a lovely complexion ! Do you know I admire brunettes ever so much more than blondes ; don't get angry. Belle Blonde, at my saying so." "Not I ; Conway is dark !" " Dear, dear Conway ! Una, isn't he divinely handsome, and won't Fanny May, and Rose White, and all the girls go mad with envy when they hear ot it ; half of them were dying for him, I declare !" Una knew very well that half of the young ladies in her set would have given a year of their lives to stand in Helen Thornton's shoes, and she laughed : THE WEDDING-mOBT. 97 ** More fools they ; ho isn't such a prize. There, don't trouble yourself to get angry, Helen, I know him better than you do. When is it to come off ?" "The wedding ? Oh, the d;iy has not been named yet ; but it will be soon, I suppose. Conway is so imi)aticnt, you know ; and you, my dear, darling Una, are to be bridemaid, first bridcmaid, too ! Won't that bo nice? One wedding makes many, they say; who knows but it may bo your turn next ?" ** Bah ! I am only a schoolgirl ! What would uncle and auntie say if they heard you talk like that ?" " Your uncle talks like that, himself. Papa says he intends you for Eugene." The milk-white skin of Miss Forest could by no possibility redden, but there came a strange glitter into her pale-blue eyes at this {illusion. " Does he ? Perhaps Eugene himself will have a word to say about that. Is it true you refused him the night of the party ?" "Oh my goodness !" Miss Thornton cried, lowering her voice and glancing at the door, as if she expected to see the dark gloomy face of Eugene Ilazclwood there. " I shall never forget his look that niglil, as long as I live ! Una, I can't tell you how frigli toned I am of 08 THE WEDDmOmOHT. liim ! Don't you marry him for any one. I would as 6pon marry a wild Indian." "I won't marry him," Una said quietly, "and I am pretty sure I will never bo asked, Rosie, you are soiling all your dress with that eake — throw it away." Miss Thornton was instantly off on another tack, and in raptures again. "What a love of a name ! Rose of the World and Evangeline ! Eve-star you ouglit to call her. 01), whot pets they both arc ! Do you know, Una, when Conway and I come back from our bridal-tour, I mean to make him adopt them both. I sliould love to have two such beauties to dress and pet !" "Perhaps, too, you think like Eugene, that Con- way has tlie best right to tlicm." Helen laughed ^r'lod naturedly. ** NHmporte, wa chcre. Thoy look like the Ilazel- woods, I tell you ; anybody with eyes can see it ! Come, try and speak. Wluit's your name, love ?"' taking one of them in her arms, *' Which is which, Una ?" "That one is Evangeline ; she speaks the plainest of the two." " I don't see how you can tell them apart ! Where is your mamma, pet?" TEE WEDDINO NIGHT. 99 ** Morel" was tho little one's answer, like a female Oliver Twist, as she pointed to the cake-plate j "more cake !" " No ; she must not have any more," said Una, "she will be sick ! There,, send her home with Jane — she can't tell 3'ou any tiling about her mamma. I wish she could 1 Shall I ring for Jane to take them home ?" "You may ring if you like 1 I want you to go shopping with mo ; I have got such lots and lots of things to buy. Oh, my gi*acious ! I shall wear white, of course, Una, and you had better wear pink ; you are so very fair, it will become you bettor than anything else. Good-bye, darlings ; kiss me before you go !" The twins, grateful, perhaps, for the devoured cake, kissorl the bride-elect, and allowed themselves to be led off by their nurse. The shopping that day was a weighty affair. Miss Thornton came back with the carriage full of parcels and her purse several hundred dollars lighter than when, she started. Una staid till late in tho afternoon, and then put on her hat to go home. " Conway is coming this evening, and the time is to be fixed," was Helen's parting address. " I'll make him tell you as soon as he goes back 1 Good-bye, love ; come 100 THE WKDDINO-NIOnT. back again to-morrow. I shall bo so busy I can't got on without you." Una did not see Conway that evening. It was the "weo sma' hours ayont the twal," as usual, before his latchkey turned in the lock, and lie went whistling up- stairs to bed ; but next morning, on her way down to breakfast, she espied his door ajar and peeped in. " Is it you, Conway ? Have you any message for me?" Conway, busily arranging his cravat at the mirror, turned round. " Good morning, Mademoiselle. Yos, I believe Helen sent you word to be ready at throe this afternoon, to go shopping with her. She will call for you in the carriage." "And when is the great event to come off ?" '* In a fortnight, I believe. Oh, hang this necktie. I shall have to employ a valet, I believe, to dress mo decently." Una opened her light-blue eyes to their widest ex- tent. " Good gracious, Conway ! In a fortnight ? "What a hurry you're in. Helen co,nnot get ready in that time." " Yes, she can. She doesn't need to carry all the ' THE wEDDma-NianT. m drygoods in Now York with her. She can got a full supply in Paris." "But it's so sudden. I had no idea." ** Neither had I ; but you see, my dear 'since it must be done, 'twere well 'twere done quickly'; that's Shakes- peare. The reason is, some friends of Helen start for Paris in a fortnight, and wo want to go all together, like Brown's cows. Thoic, that tie's fixed to perfection, thanks to patience and perseverance ! And now suppose wo go down and try Aunt Emily's coffee." A little after three, the carriage of Miss Tliornton drew up before Mr. Hazelwood's door, and Una, all ready and waiting, was handed in, and the two young ladies drove off. intent on that business wherein the heart of every woman dclightoth. And that was but tho begining of tlio end ; every day during the week saw the same transaction repeated, as Mr. Thornton's check- book could abundantly prove. Upliolsters, dressmakers, and milliners filled the liouse. Una became domiciled there altogether. Miss Thornton, by no possibility, could exist without her in such a trying time. The rumor of the marriage became noised abroad, and Fifth avenue had a copious theme to gossip about fkt its morning calls and evening reunions. The course of true 103 THE WEDDTNONIGnT. lovo was flowing as smoothly as a mill-dam not even the faintest zephyr to nifllo its sunshiny surface, not one faint shadow of the Uuck cloud gathering so swiftly and terribly darkening its radiance. Eugene Ilazelwood's threats seemed to have evaporated into empty air — that young gentleman himself had disappeared suddenly from public view, had gone off on some wildgoosc chase or other, and deprived the Emi)iro City of tlie light of his countenance altogether. Artliur lounged more than ever in his Broadway studio, smoked more cigars and drank more pale sherry than was good for him, but otherwise seemed in no danger of injuring his constitu- tion from being crossed in love. So all went merry as a marriage-bell, and the fort- night flew by on rosy wings, and the happy day dawned, all sunshine and bland breezes. Eleven was the hour the bridal party were to be at church, and the yellow January sunshine streaming through the curtained windows of Miss Thornton's boudoir, saw the dainty little clock, of gold and ebony, on the mantel, pointing its glittering hands to the hour of ten. It saw, too, Helen Thornton, bewildering in bridal white, her bridal vail and wreath on her head, and Una Forest, looking like a pale rosebud, in pink and white, at the head of a THE WEDnrNO-Nranr. i03 bevy of briglit-fiicod briJcmiiida, similarly attired. Tlicy were all laughing and chatting together, when a servant came to the door with a note. "For me," said Helen, in surprise, " who brought it, May ?" The i)ostman had brought it, the girl said ; and the bride tore it ojien, and uttered an exclamation as she read it. *' What a strange note ! Read it, Una." Una took it, and read : " Lot Miss Tliornton be in the conservatory a quarter after ten on her wedding morning, and wait there for a visitor, wlu) will tell her a secirct of the utmost import- ance. She must be alone, as the secret is for no ears but hers. Let nothing i)rcvent her complying, or something will pnnont her marriage. She need have no fears. This note comes from A Friend." "Anonymous !" said Una. '* Wiiat will yon do ?'* *'I Ghould like to go," said Ili'lcn, looking intensely curious. " Is it not mysterious ? Who can it be from, and what can the secret be ?" *' 1 haven't the faintest idea. It contains a throat, too, if you do not comply. Perhaps you had better show it to your father." 104 TIIR WEDDING NIOHT. " Oh no ! Papa never would lot mo go, and my curiosity is excited. I'll tell you — don't suy anything to the rest about it, and I will go, and make Lizetto keep watch at a safe distance. I would give the world to know what .no secret is." '* Well if you think there is no danger." Helen laughed. ''Danger! You little gooso ! in broad daylight, and in my father's house ! You run and find Lisette, and tell her to wait in the music-room, it overlooks the conservatory, and I will go and see what comes of it." "You won't wait long ?" "No ; if my mysterious visitor docs not make her or his appearance by half-past ten, I will wait no longer. Be olf now, while I go to the conservatory ; it is a quar- ter past ten now." Una and Helen went out together, telling the flock of bridemaids they would soon return. Ten minutes, and Mary the chambermaid reappeared. *' Miss Helen, there is a gentleman — why, she is not here !" " No," said one of the young ladies, ** she has gone with Miss Forest to the conservatory. Has Mr. Hazel* wood come ?" THE WKDDING-NrGIIT. lOS " Yes, Miss, but it's Mr. Eugene, not ^U. Conway I In the conservatory. I'll l)riiig him u; . ' o says he wants to see lior on important matters." Mary liastoned ol!, ami Una entered a few minutes after alono. " Wiiere's Helen," the girls asked. " It's half-past ten ? Isn't Mr. Hazel wood come yet ?" " Not that I know of. It is time enough !" ** Perhaps something has happened, and his brother has come here to tell her I" "His brother I Is Arthur hero ?" " No, Eugene. IIo told the ser\rant his business was important, and she has shown him into the conservatory. I thought you were there with Helen." Una looked at the speaker. "Eugene ! impossible ! Eugene is not in the city I" " Perhaps ho has returned. May said it was Eugene ; and she knows him very well. ray goodness ! if any- thing should have happened !" Una's heart suddenly stood still. All his threats came back to her memory. What if the note came from him ? Some one tapped at the door. It was May, for the third time. 5* lOG THE WEDDIXG-NIQET. "Old Mr. Hazelwood and Mr. Conway are down stairs ; and Mr. Thornton sends his compliments, and says it is a quarter of eleven, and time the young ladies were down-stairs." "May," Una a^ked, hurriedly, "are you sure it is my cousin Eugene who is with Miss Helen in the con- servatory ?" " Yes, Miss ; but he's not there now. He is just gone ; he only stayed a few minutes." Una turned hastily, and without a Avord, in the direction of the conservatory. Its glass doors lay wide open, and as she entered she saw Helen Thornton at the further end, half-lying, half-sitting on a lounge, her face drooped on the pillows, her white bridal dress falling around her like a cloud. Her strange position and stillness struck a chill to the girl's heart. " Helen !" she called. But Helen did not stir. " Helen !" she rc]>eate«-l, drawing nearer. But the bride nv. er moved. There was a jjeculiar odor through the apartment that could be perceived even above the iicrfume of the flowers, the odor of bitter almonds. Una noticed it dis- tinctly as she bent over the still, white form. THE TEAOEDY BLACKENS. 107 « Helen! Helen!" she cried, catching her by the ■Ttti. " Holen ! wliat is the matter ?" She (li-()pi)ecl tlie arm, and recoiled in horror even ■irlLile slio spoke. No need to ask what was the matter. On hei- biiiLil morning, in her bridal robes, Helen Tlioml-on hiy before her— dead ! Quite dead ! Growing C8).M al/eady, wiLii foam-crusted lips and ghastly, dis- ttsarted face — stark and dead ! ^CHAPTER Vn. THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. JOXWAY HAZELWOOD, like a true lover, never so lia])py as w^-^n in the presence of his iilol, had spent his wedding-eve at the hm^ of his bride elect. It had been a very pleasant eueain.:!, and Conway had stayed late. Una was there, aad so were the throe other pretty bridesmaids, and ttBuree or four young gentlomen, cousins of Helen's; and tluere had been music, and dancing, and singing, and cluimpagne, and a little flirting ; and altogether, Con- way had a very agreeable time. The clocks of the city 108 THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. were striking the hour of midnight — that most solemn of all hours, the mysterious link between night and day, as he walked down Fifth avenue, with a happy glow at his heart. The night was mild and moonlit, and, late as it was, Conway sauntered past his own home, without going in. IIo looked up at it as he went by ; but one light burned in the whole front, and that, to his sur- prise, came from the room of Eugene. "Can that tender younger brother of mine have returned from his pilgrimage ?" was his thought ; "but no, I suppose it is my worthy aunt, or one of our satc- lites, the housemaids. I think I know on what wild- goose-chase the dear boy has been on — God Ri)eed him in his search !" He laughed to himself, and taking his cigar-case from his pocket, lit a weed, and sauntered on his way. There were few abroad at that hour on the aristo- cratic avenue ; ho met no one, save a solitary "guar- dian of the night," wandering up and down his beat like an uneasy ghost, in blue coat and brass buttons. He did not see the dark shadow creeping behind him, a man light and soft of stop ; wearing a long overcoat, a muffler wrapped round his throat and hiding half his face, a soft hat with a broad brim pulled over his eyes ; TUB TliAOEDT BLACKENS. 109 a man who had dogged him since lie left the house of his betrothed, skulking in the shadow always — treading with cat-like softness — slouching under the shade of houses, stopping when he slackened his pace, and never losing sight of him for a moment ; a man who followed him into Broadway when he entered that thoroughfare, keeping him ever in view, and ever lagging behind him. There was life and light still on busy Broadway, though the theaters had emptied themselves long ago, and pedestrians enough were passing up and down to enable the skulking shadow in the overcoat to follow unnoticed. He seemed to have lost the wish to do so, however ; for as Conway loitered for a second on the pavement to produce a fresh cigar, he came up and ad- dressed him : " Good night, sir ! I have the honor of speaking to Mr. Conway Hazclwood, have I not ?" Conway turned and looked at him, but the muffler, the long coat, and slouched hat baffled recognition. " You have the advantage of me, my good fellow, whoever you are," he said, pulling away coolly at hia newly-lit cigar. ** Which I mean to keep — since it is of no conse- 110 THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. quence to yon to know who I am I To-morrow is your wediling-tliiy, Mr. Ilazelwood ?" " Is it ? Have you come to forbid the mariago ?" Could careless Conway liave seen the devilish light that leaped into the eyes under the slouched hat at the question, he might have recoiled in horror, fearless as ho was He did not see it, however ; and the strange man's voice was as calm as his own, when he answered : "No; with Mr. Ilazelwood or his marriage I have nothing to do. I am merely the agent and emissary of another — a friend of yours, who for to-night only de- sires to remain unknown. That friend has a secret for your ear, a most important secret, which may influence your whole future life. That friend will be at the resi- dence of your bride to-morrow morning, to meet and tell it to you. The ceremony takes place at eleven ; at half- past ten, then, he desires you will meet him in tlie con- servatory ; .\t all events, bo there a quarter before eleven. It is a matter of lifo-and-death importance on which he would speak — it is also to be kept a profound secret — you are to tell no one of this matter until you have heard all to-morrow. The reasons for this secrecy will explain themselves, he bids me say, when you have heard what he has to reveal." THE TliAOEDY SLAOEEN'S. Ill They had been walking on side by side all this time — the stranger speaking rai)idly, and Conway's face a sight to see, in its astonishment and mystification. Now he took tlio cigar from between his lips and stopped resolutely on the sidewalk, staring at the speaker. "My most mysterious friend, what on earth is all this lecture about ? Are you reheai'sing a scone from the last melodrama, or arc you an escaped lunatic ? You liave been talking now for the last ten hwiiutes, and I give you my word I was as wise before you began as I am now at the end. Speak out, man, whoever you are, if you have anything to say. Who is this mysteri- ous unknown, and what mighty secret is to bo revealed to me ?" "You will learn that when to-morrow comes I I have fulfilled my task ; yours is a very easy one. Per- mit me to bid you good-night !" "Not so fast, my friend," said Conway, collaring him suddenly ; "you are a great deal too romantic and interesting a, personage to be parted with so easily. Come, sir ! off with that hat, and let us see what man- ner of man you are !" " You need not strangle me, then," said the stranger, iia THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. partiiilly lifting his hat and showing Conway a shining bhick face beneath. "I hope you'll know me when we meet again. Good-night, Mr, Ilazelwood, I wish you and your bride all sorts of joy !" With a sudden ellt)rt he jerked himself free, and, turning round a corner, disappeared. Conway heard an aggravating laugh of triumph, and darted after him, but the man had turned down a lonely street, and was nowhere to be seen. He looked up and down, but the street was lonely and deserted ; the man was gone. Conway Hazel wood drew a long breath as he turned back into Broadway. ** Well, here's an adventure I Now, if I were given to romance, I might think my brain was a little turned, and that I was rehearsing a scene from the ' Castle of Otranto,' or some such rubbish as that ; but this is the nineteenth confcnry, and I am in Broadway ! It can't be Eugene ; it was neither his voice nor figure ; but it may be some trick of his. By Jove ! I've hit it 1 I wonder what he means to do when he gets me in the conservatory ? Blow my brains out, probably, though Dr. Lance labors under the notion that I have none to blow out. Thank you, my dear brother," he said, half ' \ THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. 113 aloud, taking off his hat, "don't you hope I may go there ?" A Fifth avenue stage was passing — ho hailed it, and was set down at his own door. Ho looked up at the window from wliicli the light had been gleaming when he went past before : it burned no longer — the whole house was silent and dark. Conway let himself in with liis latchkey, and went noiselessly up to his room. "I will find out to-n.^irow whether Eugene has returned, or not," was his last thought; "and now to sleep, and to dream of Ilelen's bright eyes and to-mor- row's happiness !" To-morrow's happiness, iiulccd ! Well for Conway Hazclwood ho knew not what tluit momentous to-mor- row was to bring, or liis slumbers would scarcely have been so peaceful and prolonged. His watcli was pointing to the hour of nine before he opened his eyes on this mortal life, and sjjrang up in considerable consternation. " Nine o'clock, by George ! I should have been up and doing two hours ago. It will be after ten, now, before I am dressed and at Ilelen's !" Conway was his own valet ; and taking a great deal 114 THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. of pains with his toilet, as people generally do on their wedding day, it was, as he had predicted, after ten before the cermony of dressing was completed, and he lounged out very unnecessarily handsome, drawing on his gloves as he went. Mrs. Wood met him in the hall. ** My dear Conway, I thought you were dead, or had been turned into one of the Seven Sleepers ! Do you know it is fifteen minutes after ten, and you are to be married at eleven. But perhaps you have forgotten you are to be married at all. You are given to forget trifles, you know." Conway laughed.* "I came uncommonly near forgetting it, I allow. Has Eugene made his appearance yet ?" " Eugene ! Wliy, has he returned ?" "Just what I intended asking you. I saw a light burning in his room last night, and took it for granted he was here." " Perhaps ho is ! Just wait a moment and I'll see ! " Eugene's room was near Conway's. Mrs. Wood rap- ped at the door, but there was no answer. Slie turned the handle, but it was fast. " He must have come. No one ever locks his door THE TRA0ED7 BL ACKERS. 118 but himself 1 I wonder where ho can have been this longtime." Conway laughed again as he ran down stairs. "Hunting for last years snow ! I hope he may find it. Good-bye, my dear aunt ; there will bo a Mrs. Ilazclwood in the world before you sec mo again, and your good-for-nothing nephew will be a sober, sensible, steady married man." " You sober, indeed ! " said Mrs. Wood to liersclf, as his handsome, laughing face vanished. "Married or single, you will always be light-hearted, hot-headed Conway ! I hope the boy will be happy, anyway, for he is the best of them all !" It was nearly half-past ten when the bride-groom entered the house of his bride. Her father met him in the hall and held out his hands with a smile. " We were beginning to think here that the ever- gallant Hazelwood was going to lose his character, and become like the bridegroom in the song ' a laggard in love.' Better late than never, though. Come into the library and take a glass of wine. You will need it to keep up your courage in the trying ordeal before you." " An ordeal without which life would not be worth having," laughed Conway. 116 THE TRAGEDY BL AC KEN'S. "Holon, I suppose, is invisible." "For the next twenty minutos, yes. There is a crowd up-stairs in the drawing-room, and she is in the liands of her bridemaids. By the way, where is Arthur ? — very odd ho is not liere !" Conway shrugged his shoulders. "Lounging in \\\a atelier, as usual. The fellow is the very incarnation of laziness, like the rest of his Bo- hemian tribe." " Too bad both lie and Eugene should bo absent ; it looks strange on such an occasion. Where did you say Eugene was ?" " I did not say he was anywhei-e, my dear sir, for the simple reason that I don't know ! One might as well try to account for the errationess of a comet, as for that of my worthy younger brother." " Eccentric ! always was, always will be, but uncom- monly clever, smartest of the lot — begging your pardon, Conway ! Ten minutes to eleven — how the minutes are flying ! Come up to the drawing-room my boy ; the bride and her attendant nymphs will be there directly." " My father is here, I suppose ?" Conway asked, following him up-stairs. "Your father came half an — Ah 1 what is that ?" THE riiAOI'JDV n LACK ENS. 117 It was ii wild, shrill shriek from the conservatory — a girl's frightened cry. Again it was repeated, and both stood still in wonder in the hall. Once more, wilder, shriller the shriek was heard, and then a figure in rosy ganzo came flying along the hall, rending the air with piercing screams. Conway caught the flying figure by the arm : " Una ! have you gone crazy ? What is tho matter ? Has any one fainted ?" "0 Conway! Conway I" was all Una could cry, her eyes wild with horror, her whole figure quivering and thrilling like an aspen leaf. *' Miss Forest ! (iood heavens ! what has happened F" Mr. Thornton gasped. "Where is Helen? has any- thing—" lie stopped ; for Una, clinging to her cousin, burst into a wild fit of hysterical sobs. The drawing-room door flew open, and a startled crowd poured out ; tho bridemaids, in curiosity and consternation, came flock- ing round her ; the servants from below were coming up to learn the cause of the commotion. Every eye was fixed on Una Forest, whose hysterical sobs alone broke the startling stillness. Conway, very pale with some nan;o]ess dread, caught both her sloudor wristti in his hands, and looked steadily 118 THE TRA0ED7 BLACKENS. into hor eyes. That concentrated and powerful glance mesmerized the girl into calmness. " Una, speak out 1 What is the matter ?" "Helen is not here," Helens father said. "Whore is Helen ?" "Dead !" Una cried, with a last hysterical sob. " Mr. Thornton, Helen is dead !" It had been all silent enough a moment before — to describe the slirick and commotion tliat followed Una's startling announcement, would be utterly imi)ossiblo. Mr. Thornton, speechless and paralyzed, and Con- way deadly white, were the calmest of all. Ho was still holding her wrists, unconscious how cruelly hard, and still mesmerizing her with his strong dark eyes. "Dead ! do you know what you are saying, Una ?" " Oh, I do ! I do ! Conway I she is in the con- servatory, dead ! murdered !" " Murdered !" a wild chorus of voices repeated in horror ; and then, as by one impulse, a universal rush was made for the conservatory. All but Conway — the word "conservatory" stunned him, and ho stood per- fectly still, grasping Una, and looking into her fright- ened blue eyes as if ho had forever lost the power of gazing elsewhere. THE TRAQEDY BLACKENS. 119 It was impos.siblo for the tho girl's Albino face to turn any whiter than Nature had made it, but her very lips were blanched, with fear. "0 Conway!" slic said, in a terrifled whisper, " Eugene has been hero 1" "Eugene!" "Ho was alone with her in tho conservatory. She went in tliore well and fv;ll of life. Less than half an hour after, when I went to look for her, I found her lying there — dead 1" No marble statue could have worn a face whiter or more rigidly set tlum did the bridegroom ; no hands frozen in death could have been more icy than those grasping her tortured wrists. But life terrible and in- tensely burning life, shone in those large dark eyes. •* He was alone with Helen in the conservatory," he repeated, his very voice changing so that she scarcely knew it. " Conway, yes ! Conway — " *' Has he gone ?" " He left a few minutes before I went in and found her—" The hysterical sobs commenced again, chocked in their commencement, however, by an appalling sight. 120 THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. Five or six gentlemen were approaching, bearing be- tween them the convulsed form of Mr. Thornton, foam- ing and writhing in a fit of epilepsy — a horrible sight to look at. "With a scream, Una broke from Conway and fled, and he, just glancing at the purple and distorted face, turned steadily to the scene of the tragedy. The la'-ge room wa3 full, but every one made way for him. Xo cue bnt her father had dared to touch her. She still lay a? Una had found her ; and an emi- nent physician, who chanced to be among the guests, was bending over her. One glance at the face told the whole storv — his bride was no loncror his, but the bride of Deatli. He made no atterai)t to touch her, and his voice, when he spoke, was quite calm, only it did not sound like the voice of Conway Hazelwood ; and that terrible light, like dusky-red flame, was burning omi- nously in his eyes. " She is quite dead ?'' he asked. "Quite,'* said the medical man, looking up; "a terrible crime has been committed here. Tho young lady has been poisoned I" " Ah ! poisoned." " Yes, she h.as evidently swallowed a dose of prussio acid, strong euough to kill a horse in a lew minutes. THE TRA0ED7 BLACKENS. 121 a !S10 .es. Firienda, a lioriible mnrdor has been committed- -it is mo* time to stand idle — who can the murderer be ?" Conway Hazchvood turned out of the room with the snine steady step lie luid cntw'ed, took his hat, and loft ttlke b.ou3c. Ten minntes hiter, he was standing in his ©wns, and encountering liis aunt face to face in the fewer hall. '•^Gi'acious nie, Conway ! what brings you here? And ■wEuit on earth i.s tlie matter — yon look like a ghost !" He stopped in his way up-stairs, and looked at her. **Havc you seen Eugene ? lias he been here ?'' " Ye>-', and he is here yet. He is up in his room pwrking some things for anotlier journey, I suppose. Ej»-- inytliing hap — " Tnrough the hall-window Conway saw two police- Msm pa.ssing. Another instant, and lie had opened the door^ and hailed then. One of them knew him, and towfiod his hat. "•Anyching wrong. Mr. Hazelwood, that you want MS, What can we do for you, sir ?" "I want you to make an arrest; a great crime has Hwett committed to-day, and the perpetrator is here I Amat tell one of the servants to call a cab. I shall want itt diirectly. This way, gentlemen." 123 THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. In a perfect tranco of amazement and bewilderment, !Mrs. Wood stood looking after her nephew and the two officials going np-stairs, quite incapable of giving the order he had left. A little negro boy, Avho did the errands of the house, chanced to be within hear- ing distance, however, and ran off for the cab at once. " What's the crime that's been committed ?" one of the policemen asked, on their Avay up-stairs. " Murder !" was the stern response. " Murder ?" repeated the policeman, aghast. "And do you mean to say, Mr. Ilazelwood, the murderer's here ?" "I do ! lie is in this room I" said Conway, knock- ing loudly at Eugene's door. It was opened at once, and by Eugene himself. He had been, as ^Irs. Wood had said packing up ; for a trunk, half-filled, was open, and the floor was strewn with clothes, dressing-cases, and articles of all kinds. lie looked in unfeigned astonishment from his brother to the policeman. " CouAvay ! you hero ! What does this mean ?" "It means!" Conway cried, grasping him by the shoulder, " that you are a prisoner. You thought to THE TRAOEDT BLACKENS. 123 M escape, did you ? Well you have failed. Take him, men — a cab is waiting below !" Eugene, strong as a young Hercules, shook him in- dignantly off. "Are you mad, sir? Your prisoner I On what charge ?" " That of murder ! You have kept your threat well. Helen Thornton is dead ; but, by Heaven, you shall hang for it as high as Haman, were you ten broth- ers of mine !" Eugene stood looking at him, utter and unfeigned amazement and consternation written in every feature of his face. "Helen Thornton dead! Have you, indeed, gone mad, or have I ? Wliy, it is not over half an hour since I left her, alive and well 1" " Away with him, men, to the cab. Come, I will help you if he resists." His eyes were, indeed, those of a madman. Eugene looked at him like one who doubts the evidence of his senses. " Conway, have you really gone mad ? Where are you taking me to ?" " To the scene of your guilt — to Helen Thornton's 124 THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. home. Take him, I tell you, men, whether he resists 01- not !" Eugene turned calmly to the policeman. ** All this is Greek to me, but I will go, if it be only to find out what all this mystery means. Go on ; I will follow." The cab was at the door ; the four entered and in silence were driven to the house — an hour ago of merri- ment, now of death. Conway strode on to the dining- room ; Eugene followed, in charge of the two police- men. The spacious room was a scene of the utmost disorder, excitement and confusion — everybody had flocked back there. The physician who had informed ConAvay the bride had been poisoned was talking to a knot of friends. " She has been poisoned — murdered, T repeat ! Our first object now must be to discover the murderer !" " He is here !" cried Conway, in a voice that rang like a trumpet through the room, as he stepped for- ward, witli his hand on Eugene's shoulder. "I accuse my younger brother, Eugene Hiizelwood, of the murder of Uelen Thornton I" \ THE LAST DARK SCENE. 198 [ \ '^ CIIAPTEPt VIII. THE LAST DAKK SCE>fE. PRISON-CELL, dark and narrow, the slant- ing rays of tie ruddy sunset, tinging with gold the iron bars of the grated window, and falling in bright patches on the cold stone floor; its very brightness and beauty seemed crudest mockery in such a i^lace, as it lay in shining patches on the rude trundle-bed, on tlie bare deal table and the solitary chair that completed the dreary cell's appointments : a cruel mockery to whatever poor Avretch night be confined there, sj)eaking, as it did, so forcibly of the bright free world outside. A man — a young man — no common felon, cither, for he bore the unmistakable impress of a gentleman — walked up and down the cell's narrow limits, his hands crossed behind liim, his head sunk on his breast, his black brows contracted in a desperate scowl. The pri- soner was Eugene Ilazelwood ; and as you have seen caged tigers tread ceaselessly and savagely up and down their barred cages, he, with much the air of a sullen, ferocious, human tiger, strode his. It has all passed 126 THE LAST DARE SCENE. like a horrible nightmare — the first shock of amazement, horror, incredulity, the post-mortem examination, the coroner's inquest, the trial, the frightful array of circum- stantial evidence, that arose as if by magic, and con- founded even the most incredulous. Throughout it all the elder brother had labored with appalling zeal to bring home the crime of murder to the younger. Conway Hazclwood was as firmly convinced of Eugene's guilt as he was of his own existence, and that conviction seiTed in one hour to completely change his whole nature. The gay, careless, graceless Conway, the pet and darling of the ladies, was gone forever ; and in his stead was a relentless, remorseless, unfeeling avenger whose stern motto was, " Justice tliough the heavens fall I" No bloodliound could have hunted down his prey more cruelly and unflinchingly ; through him arose the frightful chain of evidence, his mad love for Helen, his madder jealousy and threats, his absence, his return the night before, the mysterious note, evidently in a feigned hand, that had led the bride to the conservatory, his short visit, and tlie awful denouement that followed his departure ; his nearest relatives had been the principal witnesses against him — his aunt, his cousin Una, his brother Arthur — all horified and unwilling, had to speak I J THE LAST DARK SCENE. 127 I. tlio words tliat condemned and branded liim as the murderer ; the servant who admitted him ; even his medical knowledge of poisons — were conclusive proofs against him ; and if a last link were wanting, Conway supplied it, by relating the snare that had been laid to foist the guilt on nira. lie told the tale of the nocturnal encounter on Broadway ; he was positive now the man witli the blackened face must have been Eugene. So the examination went on ; and the first amazement and incredulity gave place to horrible convictions, and Eugene Hazel wood Avas held to stand his trial for the willful murder of Helen Thornton. The excitement was unprecedented : newspapers were full of surmises and particulars; society held up its hands in horror ; some- body dramatized the story, and the lucky manager who got the play had his house crowded every night for a month. Sensation-novelists wrought it up into thrilling tales, with embellishments and decorations of their own, and the public devoured the bloodthirsty productions wholesale. Murder became all the fashion, and poison- ing the favorite thome of gossip in every circle. People would listen to no opera but Lucrctia Borgia, and all the city was on tiptoe, impatient, for the coming trial. Frightful woodcuts, said to be exact portraits of the 128 THE LAST DARK SOBNE. murderer, his victim, and bereaved brother, decorated every print-shop, and if notoriety could impart comfort, Eugene Ilazclwood was an enviable man. Throughout it all, he had been like a man stunned — like one who cannot realize Avhat is passing around him. He had pleaded Not Guilty — of course, the most guilty, as the coroner remarked, do that — but it had been in a bewildered sort of way, and tliat bewilderment had lasted all through his trial. Some pfio])le might think it proceeded from the stunning shock of amazement at finding himself thus suddenly convicted of a crime he had never dreamed of, but very few were so charitable as to tJiink that. The proof was very clear ; the evi- dence wanted not a link ; his own brother was his accuser; his nearest relatives reluctant, naturally, to give evidence against him, yet were obliged to do it, and believed him guilty. Weeks had passed since then, and with those passing weeks the prisoner's mood had changed, lie saw him- self accused, condemned, deserted ; Fate, stronger than he, was against him ; and he became moody, sullen, and savage, refusing to answer questions — a dark and despe- rate man of Avhom the very jailers were afraid. They had been dreary weeks those, in some places ; those were J i- . f TEE LAST DARK SCENE. 129 in the liomo of Mr. Tliornton, desolate and bereaved, with the broken-hearted fatlier lying ill unto death, in the homo of the Ilazelwoods, silent and darkened, where old Mr. Ilazelwood, shut up in his room, never saw any one, and battled with his grief and shame in proud soli- tude, where Una Avent through the dusky room like a little white ghost ; and Mrs. "Wood declined taking her meals at proper hours, and cried till her eyes were as red as a ferret's, and her eyes and her lieart ached alike j Arthur moped down in his gloomy studio and took to smoking harder than ever, some said to drinking also ; and Conway took lodgings within view of his brother's prison, and changed into a relentless, gloomy, and stern man, saw no one, and was almost as much a prisoner, with his own will for his jailer, as his unliappy brother. Dreary weeks to all, but dreariest in the lonesome prison- cell, where the young physician paced up and down, up and down, brooding over his own dark thoughts, night and day, and fading into the very shadow of himself. White and wan was the face on which the sun's rays fell this evening — the eve of his trial — for to morrow he was to face the crowded court-house, and be tried for his life. Shuffling footsteps came along tlie stone corridor without, a key turned gratingly in the lock of his 130 THE LAST DARK SCENE. door, it swung back, somo one entered, and it was slammed to again. Tlio prisoner turned round, and saw the white hair and bowed bead of his kind old father. It vais not that father's first visit, but Eugono gave no token of pleasure or welcome as ho pointed to the solitary chair, and resumed his march up and down. Mr. Hazelwood sank into the seat with a sort of groan. ** My poor boy ! To-morrow is the terrible day I have looked forward to in horror so long." Eugene looked at him, moodily. **If I felt like thanking Heaven for anything, I should be thankful that it is so near. Lot them do their worst, the whole of them ; that worst can bo but hanging, and hanging is a thousand times preferable to the horrible existence I have been dragging out here." *' my boy ! my boy ! I am an old man, and why did I not die before I saw this day ?" Ho dropped his white head on the table, with another groan, but Eugene looked on with a stony eye. ''I suppose you are all preparing your evidence against mo for to-morrow. It is a consoling thought, than when I am condemned I shall have no one to thank for it but my neares-t relatives 1" .) thfj last dark saijyM. 181 ** Iloiivcii liclp us ! wliat can wo do ? Eugene ! is tlicro no way of saving you ? Is there noiliing that will tell in your favor ?" ** Nothing ! It has been clearly proven that I was the last one who saw Ilelcn Thornton alive ; of course, then, I must be the assassin." "IIow can you speak in that mocking tone, Eu- gene ? Oh, why did you insist on seeing her that fatal morning ?" "I have already informed you and my all-wiso judges : to tell her a secret connected with her adored bridegroom. To tell her I could prove ho had one wife already in the land of tlie living, and two interest- ing babes. That would have stopped the ceremony, I think, if the laws of this narrow-minded country will not recognize a man's right to two wives at the same time. Of course, my story was looked upon as a fabrication ; and, of course, it will bo. Let them do their worst, curse them !" ho cried, savagely, clenching his fist, " I defy them all !" It was a dismal interview, but a short one ; and Mr. Ilazclwood returned to his homo with a heart heavier, if possible, than when he had left it. He could not believe JJugcijc guilty, strong as the proofs were against 133 THE LAST DAllK SCENE. him; but ho Imil little hope thiit citlier jiulgo, jury, or public would joiu in hia opiniou. It was jv mispnibk', a sleepless night to ]iim,to tlK'iu all ; but the sun rose nt last ou the clay he dreaded to .see. Tiie most horrible thing about the whole horrible ad'air was that, as Eugene had said, his nearest relatives were his deadliest accusers. All-abhorrent as tbe task was, yet go they must, speak they were obliged to. And closely vailed, and wearing deepest mourning, Mrs. Wood and Una set out for the crowded court-house. Long before its doors were thrown open, street and sidewalk were filled with a sea of peojde, and when at last way was made for them, they poured iuto the build- ing and filled it to MtlTocation. Busy reporters leaned over the desks, styiishly-drcssed ladies whispered to- gether and waited iin])aticnt1y for the prisoner to be brought in, artists came ready to take correct pencil- sketches of the faces of all the principal personages in tho tragedy, and all, from tho highest to the lowest, had but one opinion of the issue — that Eugene Hazel wood was guilty, and would meet a fate ho richly deserved. At ten o'clock, the prisoner was led in, pale, sullen, defiant; the trial began, and pens and pencils went to work. The case was ably opened by the counsel for the thFj last dark scene. 188 prosecution, tho witnesses against him were plentiful ; find neither the ]»risoner nor his lawyer could say niucii that Weighed against tlic crushing amount of circum- Btantial evidence. With a face that might have been cut out of white stone, relentless iis death, pitiless as doom, Conway was there as his chief accuser ; and when the case Wils adjourned for that day, tho mob poured out, more and more assured that their predictions as to tho result were correct. Tho trial lasted three days, and with every passing hour the prisoner's case grew darker and darker. It ended at last, as all had said — tho jury brought in a verdict of guilty, but with a recommendation to mercy on account of his youth and respectability. Tho closing speech of tho judgo was a toucliing one ; the stylishly- dressed ladies wept copiously as they listened, and felt very sorry for the prisoner, with the stern, moody face, v,'hen they heard his sentence — imprisonment for life, Avith hard labor. It miglit have been deatli ; but tho plea for mercy had been accepted, and it was only im- prisonment for life. The prisoner smiled as ho heard it such a strange smile, and turned liis eycsintcjitly on his elder brother's cold white face, but he bowed to tho kind old judge, and was led from tho court without a 134 THE LAST BARK SCENE. word. Everybody went home to talk about it. The Hazclwoods, never speaking at all, but shrinking from each other, were driven to their.>. Conway went to his desolate lodgings ; but now that his revenge was satia- ted a strange restlessness took possession of him — a wish to see and speak to Eugene once more before he left New York, as on the morrow he intended doing, forever. He battled with the desire for awhile, but it was stronger than he ; and as dusk wivs falling over the city, he i)ut on his hat and wandered slowly to the prison. Tlicro was a crowd collected round the principal entrance, talking in hushed tones, and with solemn faces. " What is the matter ?" Conway asked of one of the men near him. The man looked at him queerly, but without recog- nizing him. "A very shocking thing, sir ! The young man, Ha- zelwood, whose trial for murder ended to-day, has just been found dead in his cell. He hung himself sir, with his pocket-handkerchief to one of the bars of his window. It has been a horrid affair all through, but the end is the most horrid of all." A REVELATION 18S CHAPTER IX. A KEVELATION". MON"G the crowd collected round the prison- gate there stood a woman dressed in shabby- genteel mourning. Tall and slight, and youth- ful of form, as far as might be judged through the lajge black shall she wore. A thick black crape vail hid her face, and was gathered close in one small gloved hand, as if she feared the wind might flutter it even for an instant aside. Conway Ilazelwood, moody and self-abstracted, had not seen her, but she had followed him from the house, walked after him stealthily to the prison, and stopping and mingling with the crowd Avhen he stopped, had heard his inquiry and its answer. She could see his face, though ho could not discern hers, and she saw its stony and rigid whiteness turn to the livid and ghastly hue of death. There was a lam[)-post near, and he grasped it, as if the earth was reeling under his feet. " Arc you sure ?" he asked ; and the man stared at him as he heard his hoarse voice, and saw the frightful change in his face. 136 A REVELATION. " The jailer's a cousin of mine, and it was him that found liini as dead as a herring, not fifteen minutes ago. Was he any relation of yours, sir ?" The young man did not answci'. IIo turned ^v'^)-. long strides and sought the main entrance to the prison, sure of admission and hent on learning the certainty of the ghastly news he had just heard. The woman in mourning watched him out of sight, and then flitted away in the gathering gloom of the evening — a darker shadow among the shadows. She entered a stationev's shop and purchased pen, ink, and paper. "I have a letter to write before I go home," she said to the clerk, in a soft, sweet voice, and the tone of a lady, "will yon be kind enough tolut me write it here?" "Certainly, madam," the young man said, looking admiringly at the beautiful Avhito hand on the counter, and from it curiously to the hidden face. "Step this way, if you please." There was a desk in a distant corner, under the jets of gas. The lady seated herself at it and began to write, bn*^, to the deep disappointment of the polito shopkeeper, without ever raising the odious ^oreen. " Oh, hang the vail I" cried the clerk, inwardly. I I A REVELATION. 137 " Why don't she put tlic confounded tiling up ? It's all very well fur old and ugly, iiud pockniiirkod females to wear 'em, but no woman with such a hand as she's got can bo anything clso tlian stunning. Last Mercury, ma'am — five cents, if you please." This winding up of his soliloquy was addressed to a cnstomer ; and as ho turned round after serving her, he saw the vailed lady descend from the desk with a note, folded and sealed in her hand. "I am much obliged to you, sir," said tho sweet voice; "good evening." Tho gas Avas lit in the streets as tho woman in black rapidly retraced her steps. She stopped a moment to look at the gloomy prison as she went by. There was a throng about tlio gate still, discussing the frightful end of tho tragedy ; but she spoke to no one, and hurried ou again, till she came to the lodgings of Conway Hazel- wood. Her ring at the doorbell was answered by a tidy maid-servant. " Mr. Ilazelwood boards here 1" she askod. "Ycs'm." " Is he at home ?" " No'm." ** Will you give him this letter as soon as he comes ?" 138 A REVELATION. " Yes'm ; but hadn't you better step in and wait. He n directly, and you mayn't see him again, be- cause i.o is going to England in the steamer to-mor- row." " No," replied the soft voice behind the vail ; " I do not wish to see him. Give him the letter as soon as he arrives. Good-night." She was gone as she spoke — not a second too soon, if, as she said, she did not wish to meet Mr. Hazelwood; for scarcely had she turned the next corner, Avhen his tall form and pale face confronted the girl like a ghost ! ** A letter for you, sir," she said, presenting the document : "a lady in black, which she has just gone, this minute, left it, and said it was to bo given as soon as you come in. Will you come down to tea, sii, or Avill I fetch it up ?" " I do not wish any," he said, taking the letter, and passing up-stairs to his room without looking at it. A lighted lamp stood on a littered table ; but the whole room was in a litter, for that matter, with evi- dent preparations for a journey. Opened trunks, half- packed valises, clothes, books, and all sorts of miscel- A REVELATION. 139 lany strown over the carpet in a heap. Indifferently enough lie glanced at the superscription of the letter as he paused before the lamp, but in that one glance all indifference vanished. It was dainty enough chirogra- phy, delicate but decided — writing that had character in it — but nothing, one would think, to make him start, as if a ball had struck him. In an instant he had torn it open, and was literally devouring its contents. His face altered so as he read that you would scarcely have known it ; it had been harder than marble, as cold, as rigid, as expressionless ever since that fatal morning on which he had found his bride dead, and his brother guilty of that death. Through the trial, the sentence, it had retained its terrible calm ; even the change that had come over when he heard of that brother's horrible end, and later, when he had looked on the purple and distorted face of the suicide in his prison cell, was nothing to the ghastly change that came now. It dropped from his hand as ho finished ; and convulsed like one in an epileptic fit, he sank into the nearest chair, great beads of dark, cold sweat standing on his brow. It did not last long ; these moments of mortal mercifully never do. A decanter of brandy stood on the table ; he poured out a largo glassful of the raw. 140 A revelation: strong liquor, and drained it, as if it had been water. The crumpled letter lay at his feet ; he picked it np, and, with the same gh;»stly face, read it over again. It was brief, but horrible enough to produce even a more awful result than it had done, and ran thus : " ]\Iy Dear Husband : — As I havo a strong inward conviction I am the only woman alive who now, or at any future time, will ever have any right to call you by that endearing name, I so address you, notwithstanding your conduct of late has been rather unhusbaudliivc — even unkind. I do not mean to reproach you, my dear Conway, but reflect on the feelings of a tender mother, whose offspring are torn from her maternal bosom, as mine have Ijcen, in the dead of night, by a nuin in a cloak, named Captain Forrest, who stole in, like any low-bred burghir, through the window of my miserable house, and carried them off. I understand that twin-in- fants found their Avay to your father's aristocratic city abode shortly after, wiiich satisfies me that Captain Forrest meant well bv the children, whatever he mijjht do by the bereaved mother. Then, my dear Conway was it not still more unkind of you to desert mo to starva- tion in the city-streets. I will do you the justice that you left me free mo to choose — and resolve to take iinto yourself a younger and richer, I was about to say fairer bride — but that would not be true — and 'truth ever lovely,' etc., has been my motto through life. Even my saintly cnduriince was not jiroof ngaiust this 'last unkindest cut of all.' I resolved, at all hazards, to savo A REVELATION. Ul you from the sliockiug sin of bigamy, and forsaking my beloved motbor in bor old age, came to New York, and prevented it ! How ? you ask. No matter, your wifo is a clever woman, as you long ago learned, my Conway, as sbe liopos to give you still more convincing proofs yet before sbe quits tbis dying world. Learn, tbongb, wise young Judge, second Cain ! tbat Engcno Hazel wood was innocent of tbe crime for wbicb be was tried and condemned. It was I wbo followed yoii tbat memorable nigbt down Broadway ; it was I wbo admin- istered tbe poisoned draugbt to tbe pretty bride; it was 1 wbo laid a snare into wbicb, bad you fallen, you migbt have stood in tbe criminal dock in your brother's place, It was I wbo did it all, and I glory in wbat I bave done. More Conway Hazclwood, I will bunt you down to your dying day. I will be your evil genius tbrougb life ; and if tbe tales of preachers be true, at the judg- ment-seat, on tbe last great day, I will be your deadliest accuser for the wrong you have done me. Your brother is dead by his own hand, but his blood cries aloud for vengeance on you. You depart to-morrow for foreign lauds. Heaven speed you on your journey ! Perhaps, after reading tbis, you may take it into your head to look for me. Well, my dear Conway, look for last winter's snow, for last summer's partridges, and when you have found them, then you may stand a chance of discovering your affectionate wife, •'KosE Hazelwood." It dropped from his paralyzed hand the second time, this terrible letter ; and ho sat staring straight before 142 A REVELATION. him, seeing nothing, but with every word ho had read burning into liis brain like fire. Ho never for a moment doubted its truth — ho knew the writer of that letter too well — and his dead brother's blood was on his head. There was a knock at the door. How long he had sat, his eyes fixed in that unearthly glare, he could not tell — ages, it seemed to him ; but at the knock, loudly I'epeated, he started up to a vivid consciousness of the outer world, and opened liis door. It was his landlady, and the good woman recoiled, with a scream, at sight of him. "Good gracious, me, Mr. Hazclwood, whatever's the matter with yoii ! You look us if you'd been dead and dug up again !" He did not speak ; he only stood looking down at her, waiting for what she had to say. ''It's a message, sir, from your father; a servant brought it, and has gone away again. He wants to see you before you leave ; and if you like, sir, I'll pack up these here things against you come back — shall I ?" " Yes— what is the hour ? I have lot my watch run down," "Just gone ten, sir, by the city hall. Will you be be back to-night ?" A REVELATION. 143 at "Yes." His landlady looked at him curiously, his face and voice were so different from the face and voice of lier lodger. The letter lay on tlic ground ; ho picked it up, folded it, put it in his pocket, put on his hat, and went out. " Won't you take your overcoat, Mr. Hazelwood ?" his landlady cried after him ; but ho never heard her question, and was out in the dark, chill night, walking, seeing, feeling like a man in a dreadful dream. **Ido believe his trouble, and the disgrace that has fallen on his family, have turned his brain, poor young gentleman !" the good woman thought, **and no wonder, I'm sure ! There's everything higgledy-piggledy over the floor, it will take me a good two hours to fix them ; but no odds, he pays like a prince." The shutters were closed, the blinds lowered, and there was crape on the door of the Hazelwood mansion. The stillness of death reigned within, and the servant who opened the door and led him up to his father's room stepped on tiptoe, and spoke below his breath. *'He has never lifted his head, or left his bedroom, or spoke a word since ho heard this evening about Mr. Eugene," the man whispered, " except to tell him to 144 A REVELATION. send for you. I'll go in ahead, sir, and let him know you've come." Conway stood in the hall without, but the man was back directly. "You're to go in, sir, he says, he ia all alone." The young man entered his father's chamber. Dimly lighted by a shaded lamp and a dying coal fire, that stricken father sat in a large easy-chair, his dressing- gown hanging loosely about him, his liands lying listless on his knees, his eyes fixed in a dull, dreamy stare on the red embers. A few weeks ago he had been a strong, hale, up- right old man, ''frosty but kindly," now he sat bowed to the dust with sorrow and shame, looking twenty years older, at the least. He looked up piteously at his elder son now. " CouAvay," he cried, " is it true ?" *' It is quite true !" He put one trembling hand up over his face, his whole form quivering. Tiic young man stood leaning against the mantel and looking gloomily in the fire. " You sent for me," he said, looking at his father. Mr. Hazelwood dropped the hand covering his face, and looked up. vn I 1; \ A REVELATION. 14S "Yes, Conway — you aro going away, and I will never see you again ! Conway, my boy ! my heart is broken !" " And it is I who have done it !" "You! No, Conway — you could scarcely have acted otherwise than you did, believing him guilty — " Conway lifted his hand to interpose. " I believe it no longer 1 Eugene never murdered Helen Thornton I" " Conway ?" "I am speaking the truth — don't look as if you thought me mad. Eugene Hazelwood died an innocent man !" ** My God ! and you — you were his accuser !" **I know it ! his blood is on my head, and — on that of one other, a devil in human form. Yes, recoil from me, father, look on me with horror, for throuj,'. me he ^Dcrished. I have but one excuse to offer in palliation — I believed him guilty when I did it." Hia father sat looking at him, his lips apart, his eyes distended, perfectly speechless. "It is hardly two hours ago since I discovered the horrible mistake that has been made ; how I discovered it, or who the real criminal io, I cannot tell. Suffice it 146 A REVELATION. to say, Eugene died guiltless of the crimo of murder — more than I shall ever bo able to say, for his death lies at my door." Still Mr. Hazclwood did not speak, could not speak 'ho only sat, his face rigid in that white horror. "I have come hero to-night to tell you this, father the deep, stern tones of Conway went on, ** and to make still another revelation before I leave my native land forever. It concerns these children, infants left here so mysteriously on Christmas eve. Father, these children are mine." There was a gasping cry from the old man in the chair, but Conway never took his gloomy eyes off the fire. "The letter found with them spoke the truth; that letter was written by me. They are your grand- children ; I have been married for nearly three years. I stole them from their mothei', no matter for what reason, and brougiit them here. I leave them in your care. I know you will provide for their future, for it is not probable they will ever know a father's care. And now, sir, farewell. I cannot ask your forgiveness for what I have done ; the only atonement I can make is to quit the home I have desolated forever. I go to-nighb i A REVELA TIOK 147 ■I — farewell, fnfchev ; if you cannot bless, try not to curse, your first-born son !" Ho was gono ovoa while he spoke. The nursery wag on his wiiy to the staircuso, and the door standing ajar as he passed ; he went in. All was quiet tliero ; on a low French bed with snowy draperies the twins lay asleep ; their long black curls tossed over the pillows, their cheeks flushed, their fat white arms interlaced in their slumbers. h\ a crib at a short distance, Mrs. Wood's little daughter, Hazel, was sleeping, too ; and the nurserymaid, Jane, had fallen into the same state at a table, over her work. A more perfect picture of innocence and peace could hardly be imagined ; and Conway Hazelwood on iiis way to voluntary exile, stood long bending over the bed, gazing at the two pretty rosy faces therein. His thoughts could hardly have been pleasant ones ; for his face was dark as the grave, as ho looked down with knitted brows and compressed lips at his sleeping children He turned away at last as Jane, with a loud yawn, gave symptoms of waking up; and going slowly down stairs, went out of the front door, without encountering any one, and Conway Hazelwood had left his father's house forever ! 148 STOLEy. Half an hour after, Mrs. "Wood, entering her brother's room, found him lying on his face on the floor as cold and lifeless as a dead man. CHAPTER X. STOLEN". HE golden glory of a June afternoon streaming through the wide-open doors and windows of a pleasant old farmhouse, half buried in a tangled wilJernt'Ss of grape-vines and sweet-brier, fell in brilliant squares of luster on the pretty medallion carpet, rosewood furniture, and inlaid tables of a charming little sitting-room. The lace-covered front windows, through which the June breezes blew the odors of the sweet-brier and rose bushes around it, overlooked the one long, dust}^ straggling street of a quiet country-village ; and the windows opposite, filled with flowerpots and canary- cages, looked out on a flowing river, flashing and glit- tering in the summer sunliglit. So still was the room in the sultry noon stillness, that the rustling of the vines and the shrill singing of the canaries sounded pretcr- fi STOLEN. 149 i naturally loud, and joined in a drowsy cliorus with the buzzing of the flies and the chirping of the grasshoppers without. The quiet room had but one occupant : naar an open piano, in a low rocking-chair — that great American insti- tution — swinging backward and forward, a young lady sat, with a book in her hand. A very young lady, loooking fifteen or thereabouts, with pretty, delicate features, a skin of snowy fairness, a profusion of flaxen hair, worn in a net ; small, rostkss, light-blue eyes, shift- ing but keen, under eyebrows so light as to be scarcely worth mentioning. The young lady was dresed in deep mourning, its sable hues setting off her bloi.de beauty like a pearl incased in jet. Her book was " Corinne "; and so absorbed was she in its pages, that she did not hear the garden-gate open, nor the tread of a man's foot coming up the graveled path. A. sharp double knock, like a postman's, at the open front door, startled her at hist, and rising, she went out to the hall. A little dark til in man, wearing spectacles and a suit of dingy black, stood there, and the young lady opened her small blue eyes in astonishment at sight of him. "Doctor Lance ?" The little man nodded grimly. 150 8T0LEK " You arc Una, eli ? I remember your face very well ! How d'ye do ? Anybody besides you in the house ?" " Aunt Emily has gone out somewhere, but she will be here in a moment. Please to walk in and sit down." Dr. Lance promptly accepting Miss Forest's polite in- vitation, followed her into the pretty sitting-room, and ensconced liimself in an armchair beside the window. **'So you've all been in trouble since 1 left New York, eh. How long is it since your uncle died ?'' Una produced a handkerchief, bordered an inch deep with black, and applied it to her eyes. "He died a fortnight after — after Eugene. He was found on the floor of his room that nigiit in a fit, and never rose from his bed afterward. Una's voice was lost in a sob. Doctor Lance sat and eyed her like a stoic. " He made a will, eh ? Did he make a will ?" ** Yes, sir — the day before he died." " He died sure, then 1 "Who'd have thought it I" Baid Dr. Lance, parenthetically, no way discomposed by Una's tears. ** How did he leave his property." Una looked at him, rather at a loss how to answer. Dr. Lance put it more directly. STOLEN. 151 V' ^1 "Did he leave you anything, Miss Una ?" "Yes, sir — tlie sum of five thousand dollars when I come of age." " He did, eh ? Not bad, considering he was not a rich man. What did he leave Mrs. "Wood ?" ** An annuity for her lifetime, and this farm ; both, with the addition of three thousand dollars, to become Hazel's at her mother's death." " Very liberal, very ! But Hazolwood always had his hand in his pocket for his poor relations. All the rest goes to his two sou? duppose ?" " Oh no, sir. There were two other legacies, besides what was left to the old servants." "Two other legacies, ch ? For whom ?" Una dropped her pocket-handkerchief, and fixed her shifting blue eyes on the keen dark face. " Do you remember last Christmas eve, sir ? You were at our house, you know, and saw the two children left in the hall ? " Of course. You don't mean to say — " "Yes sir. Uncle left them five thousand dollars each, to be paid them on attaining their majority, and strict directions about their education ; and you, sir, are appointed their guardian. " 153 STOLEN. Doctor Lance never swore ; he wa,s an instructor of youth, but he looked at this last amiouncement as if ho would like to. Ilis dark brows knit portentously, and his thin lips puckered up. " What did j'ou say ? Appointed me their guardian ! I guardian OA^r two little girls? "Over three, sir, for Hazel is included. Uncle wished to see you very much before he died, but you had gone to Cuba ; and as wc came liere immediately after, Aunt Emily could not find out whether you liad returned or not, and that is the reason you did not hear all this sooner." Anything grimmer than Dr. Lance's face the sun never shone on. Una thouglit of pictures she liad seen of South Sea idol ;, and made up her mind the aus- tere little Professor might have sat as a model for these works of art. lie jumped up from his chair, thrust his hands behind him, and began an excited promenade up and down the carpet. "It's tlio most preposterous thing I ever heard of, making me guardian to a parcel 'f lliglity, silly female fools — for I never knew a young girl yet who wasn't a fool — and the Hazel woods the greatest fools of all I If I had been with Ilugh Ilazehvood, I should have posi- V STOLEN. ISS I tively refused it. The man must have been mad ! Where were hia own sons, young lady, that I had to be lugged into the matter ?" demanded the Professor, turning suddenly, not to say fiercely, on Miss For- est. ** Conway was away, sir, to Europe, and none knew his address. Arthur, you know, was out of the ques- tion—" • " I should think so. No more brains than a baboon ; but, then, brains never were characteristic of the fam- ily. I thought Eugene, by some accident, had got a few, until he proved himself as great a ninny as the rest. Where are these confounded — I mean where are these children ? If I am to bo tormented by them for the rest of my life, it strikes mo it is time I saw them 1" Una rose, and looked out. *' Tliey wore in the garden, with their nurse, a short time ago, sir. Shall I go in search of them ?" Doctor Lance nodded shortly, and took a pinch of snuff. As Una crossed the hall, she met her aunt coming in. " Doctor Lance is in the sitting-room, aunty, and in Buch a fume. You had better go in and talk to him ; 7* 154 STOLEN. he has sent me after the children ; and there they are, rolling about like little pigs, in the dust of the road 1 Jane deserves to get her ears boxed !" Rolling about, the three little ones certainly were, in a cloud of dust in the middle of the road ; their frocks that had been of spotless white that morning, anything but white now ; laughing, screaming, in the glee of childhood, and tumbling over each other, as Una said, like three little pigs. " Pretty objects they'll be for this amiable guardian to contemplate ! Where can Jane be ? Why — " Una leaning over the wooden gate, stopjicd suddenly at the sight that met her eyes. A tall willow, whose long branches trailed on the grass, was near the gate, and, under its agreeable shade. Miss Janet sat, very much at her ease, and totally indifferent to the very ex- istence of her obstreperous charges. Not alone, either : a queer figure sat beside her, holding her hand, and peering intently in her palm — the figure of an old wo- man, miserably clad, and ugly enough to be one of the witches in " Macbeth." ** Fortune-telling, oh ?" said Una, catching Doctor Lance's sharp interrogative ; " I have seen that hideous old woman lurking about here often within the lasfc ; STOLEN. tm week, and she came begging to the kitchen-door yester- day. Here, Jane !" Jane started up with a very red and guilty face at sight of the young hidy. *' Look at those children I" said Una. " Are they not nice objects, with mud and dust, by this time ? You're a pretty nurse, and a fine hand to be trusted out of sight. I suppose this is the way they are always taken care of when they are sent out with you." "I can't help it," said Jane, rather sulkily. ** I can't do nothing with that little limb. Miss Hazel. She'll roll in the dirt, in spite of all the nurses from here to Jericho." "Very well, we will see what her mother will say when I tell her you spend your time gadding with old witches instead of minding your work. Take them into the room, and think yourself lucky if you are not discharged at the end of the month." Jane, with a very sulky face, went over and dragged Mrs. Wood's offspring, with no gentle jerk, out of the dirt, while the old spae-wife hobbled up to the gate and stood peering up in Miss Forest's face. "Let me tell you your fortune, my pretty lady," she said, holding out her withered hand ; " there must 156 STOLEN. I be something very good in the future for the owner of so handsome a face." Una laughed a mocking little laugh. " You can flatter bettor than you can speer fortunes, old lady, I fancy. Are your hands clean ? No ; then, I guess, I Avon't mind having my fortune told. Jane I I told you to take those children into the house." As Jane went through the gate with her charges, one of whom — Miss Hazel — was kicking, and scream- ing, and plunging manfully to got free, Una saw her exchange a meaning glance with the old woman. The young lady read the glance aright, it said: "We have been interrupted, but I will come again ; wait !" and the fortune-teller understood, and nodded assent. "You had better not be loitering around here, old woman," said Una, sharply, turning after Jane into the house. "We don't want our serv""ts' heads turned with your nonsense. Take my advice, and go some- where else !" Without waiting to see whether she were obeyed or not. Miss Forest went back to the house, and the old woman stood looking after the slight girlish figure, with the flaxen hair and the mourning dress. " Like the rest 1 like the rest 1" she muttered, r f STOLEN. 157 " Cold-blooded, cruel, and crafty ! Ah ! they're a bad lot — a bad lot, every one of these Ilazehvoods, young and old !" In the hall, Una, met Jane, still lighting with Hazel, whoso kicks and plunging were more violent than ever. "Wash their faces and comb their hair, and put on clean dresses, and tlien fetch them into the sitting- room," wore her orders. "There's a gentleman there wants to see them. Hazel, bo good, and you shall have some cake and Jam, by and by !" Little Miss Wood, who was a great gourmand, loving cake and jam better than anything earthly, except mis- chief, looked up at this, vividly interested : " Cake and jam ! a whole lot. Cousin Una ?" " Yes, a whole lot, if you are a good girl, and let Jane Avash and dress you, and behave pretty in the sit- ting-room. Now, you go away." Miss Hazel at once wilted down, and consented to be led off, while Una v/ent toward the sitting-room. The sound of her own namec:->.ught her ear through the partly open door, and she stopped to — well, to listen. Mrs. Wood was speaking, with little tearful sniffs for punctu- ation-marks. ' "Yes, Doctor Lance, as you 8ay> it is a very queer 158 STOLEN. will, leaving as much to these two foundlings as to his own flesh and blood ; but then poor dear Hugh was always odd and romantic, and fond of reading novels, and I dare say he took his sentimental notions from them. Five thousand a piece he left them, and if either one dies before the other, the survivor gets her portion, too !" *' Melodramatic, very!" said the displeased tones of the little professor. "No man in his senses should have made such a will." "And, if both die before attaining their major- ity, the ten thousand is to be divided equally be- tween my Hazel and Una Forest. He left, besides, a letter, with half a dozen seals on it, for these twins, to bo given them the day they are twenty-one, or should either one get married before that ago to be given her the day before the wedding. " Melodramatic again 1 You have found out noth- ing more about those two twins, I suppose ?" " Nothing at all ; and do you know. Doctor Lance, ever since I heai'd the will, I have been thinking that perhaps the note we found with them told the truth, and that they really and truly were poor Hugh's grand- children." STOLEN. 159 " I don't doubt it in tho least," said Doctor Lance, •with u sardonic snort ; "never did, from tho first. Any one with eyes in their head could see tho Hazehvood paternity in those small faces I Well, my girl, where are tho children ?" This last question was addressed to TJna, who en- tered at the moment. "Coming, sir; their nurse will fetch them in directly. Oh, there's tlio postman 1" There was a loud knock at the front door. Una ran out, and returned with a single letter. *' It's for you, auntie, and in Arthur's writing ! Something wonderful must have happened to make that lazy fellow write." Something wonderful evidently had happened; for, as Mrs. Wood tore it open, and read it without cere- mony, on the spot, she uttered a shrill scream of aston- ishment. *' Good gracious, auntio ! what is it ?" cried the startled Una ; " has anything befallen Arthur or—" "Hold your tongue, Una, will yni "—exclaimed Mrs. Wood, in a high state of excitement — " until I read it again I It seems a great deal too good to be truer ICO STOLEN. ** Oil, it's not bad news, then !" said Una, looking relieved, while Mrs. Wood rend it eagerly again, with a face all aglow with surprise and delight. ** Well, I do doelaro ; such a piece of good fortune newer was heard of !" was her cry at the end of the se- cond perusal. "Here, Doctor Lance, read it and see what he says." Doctor Lance took the letter, adjusted his spectacles, and read it aloud. " Dear Aunt : — There has just been a letter from England, addressed to my father, anouncing the death of his cousin, Mark Ilazclwood, of Ilazelwood, county Essex. The letter comes from the family-solicitor, inviting my father, as next of kin, to come and take possession of the state, or in case of his decease, his eldest son, or next heir. Conway being absent, and no news of his whereabouts, I start immediately for Eng- land to attend to matters, and try and discover Conway. I shall write to you from there. Yours, "A. Hazelwood." "And in case he does not find Conway, he is heir himself to one of the finest estates in the county," said Doctor Lance, folding the letter. " I don't think Mr. Arthur will die broken-hearted if his crack-skulled elder brother never turns up 1" STOLEir. tw > ' " I never heard of such a piece of luck in all my days," said Mrs. Wood. "I wi.sh he would send for mo to keep houi?e for liim. They say it's a bcauMful place, and I always did want to visit old England." "Conway is the heir, and after him his children," said Doctor Lance ; "so, if these twins should actually liappen to be — OIi, here tiicy are 1" Jane entered with Miss Hazel "Wood (happily chosen name) and the Misses Rosamond and Evangeline Starr ; all these witli faces rosy and shining from the combined effects of good health and a recent severe application of soap and water. Doctor Lance took very little notice of Hazel, but ho bent his black brows and puckered up his lips in his peculiar way, as ho looked keenly at the twins. "The black eyes and curls, the fresh complexion, sanguine temperament and well-cut features of Con ■way," ho said, reflectively. "Madam, these little girls will one day bo the heiresses of the Ilazclwoods. There, nurse, you may take them away again !" **I want the cake, Una! I shan't go without the cake !" cried out ILizel, as she was being led away ; and Una followed to keep her promise. Doctor Lance took his hat to go, when they left the 163 STOLEN. room, declining Mrs. Wood's pressing invitation to stay for tea. "I am going to Xew Yoik by the five o'clock train, and miTst ftart for the depot at once. If I have time I will run down in the course of a few weeks to see how you and my wanls — confound them ! — are getting on. Good day r Mrs. Wood escorted him out of doors, watched him out of sight, and then went back to find Una and talk over the last wonderful event. "What a romantic thing it would be, Una, if these twins should indeed turn out to be Conway's children, and after a while come to inherit all his great estate ! It would be like a story in a novel — wouldn't it now ?" Una shrugged her shoulders and smiled contempt- uously. " And such things only happen in novels, auntie ! I dare say they belong to some washerwoman, who stole the fine clothes she sent them here in. There they are nov.', and nazel's tearing their hair out in handfuls, while Jane's looking for — " " For what ?" said Mrs. Wood, looking out into the garden, where the nurse and her charges were disporting themselves iu the sunshiae. MM STOLEK 1C3 "For wliat f^he won't find," said Una, turning to leave the room ; ''for an old woman I sent about her business ! I must go and practice now, or my music- teacher will read me a lecture when she comes," Una went down to the piano and commenced her practicing, dreaming not that Jane and the old woman were at that very moment in close and confidential confab, while Hazel Wood,, all unheeded, was making the life of the twins a misery to them by her torment- ing pranks. Three-quarters of an hour after, while she was deep in the " Wedding March," a piercing shriek, and then another and another, from the garden, made her spring from the music-stool, aghast. A flying figure, witli wild eyes and terror-stricken face, holding a child in eacli arm, tore up the graveled walk and into the hull, still seroaniitiy in wildest terror. It was Jane with Hazel and oi'^ of the twins, and both were echoing hor frantic shrieks. "For Heaven's sak .?, what is the matter?" Una cried. " Where's the other child ?" , "0 Miss Una! she's gone! she's gone 1" shrieked Jane, " she's lost forever !" "Lost!" What do you mean? have you gone ma-i ?" 1G4 BTOLEF. " Miss Una ! it was the old woman ! Oh ! what shall I do ? Miss Una ! the child's stole !" ** Stolen ! whatever do you mean ? Has that wretched old hag kidnapped — " "Yes, Miss Una! she's kidnapped one of the twins, while I came up the back way to the house for some money to pay her ! Oh, what shall I do ! Avhat shall I do !" "It's Rosie, Rosio," piped the small voice of Hazel ; "it's Eosio she took ; and she wanted to take Evey, too, only she couldn't carry both." Una stood still a strange light in her eyes, a strange compression about licr lips. Jane's cry still rang out, while she twisted her hair as in utter terror. "Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do I Miss Una ! whatever shall I do !" Her cries had brought the rest of the household to the spot by this time, and Una spoke at last. " Search must be made for the old wretch, at once, in every direction ; crying and twisting your fin- gers won't mend matters now I And I hope," was the thought in her heart, " that it never will be mended ! It's the very best thing that could have happened I" EVE. 165 CHAPTER XI. EVE. IFTEEN years! Don't start, dear patient reader ; you liave waded with mo through the last ten chapters ; in my deep gratitude for that, I will not afflict you with any moralizing on tlie joys and sorrows, the deatlis and births, the ups and downs that arc sure to checker this changeful and fever- ish life of ours in fifteen long years. Long ! yes, a long time to look forward to — very, very short to look back upon ; and now, coming with me, you will look on a new scene, a little less dark and tragic than those we have gazed on heretofore. It is a June evening ; and fifteen years lie between it and that other June evening, on which Una Forest's blue eyes glittered triumphantly, looking out on the dusty Iiighroad, in search of the stolen child. The eky is as blue and cloudless, but the sinking sun is shining on another village, many a mile away. No thrifty Qua- ker vilhige this, witli its corner-groceries, its busy rail- way-station, its freshly-painted meeting-houses, and 166 EVE. mechanic's institutes, with its streets all life and bustle, and the sign of the almighty dollar everywhere. No ; this voiceless village lies under the shadow of giant pine and towering tamaracs, hushed in stagnant stillness ; it has quaint little cottages with gardens in front, where purple lilacs and golden laburnums bloom ; and the women who gossip at the garden-gates, with long gold earings dangling under tlic silk handkerchiefs knotted under their chins, speak a glibber and more vivacious language than you ever hear "down East." A queer- looking old stone church, and a queer-looking old stone convent, both surmounted by tall crosses, bespeak the faith of the inhabitants. It is the Cliurch and the Con- vent of the Holy Cross ; the village itself is called St. Croix ; the river sparkling in the distance is the beauti- ful St. Lawrence ; and you and I are in Lower Canada. The Convent of the Holy Cross, whose bell is now ringing the evening Angolus, stands on a hillside, at some distance from the village. There is only one otlier dwelling near it — a building as large as itself, much more modern in structure, with extensive and beautiful grounds around it, and inclosed by a high stone wall. The wall and the massive iron gates have rather the look EVE. 167 of a prison, and a prison it is to some of its inmates ; but on the silver doorpliitc yon will find a different story: '^Madame Moreau, Poisionnat Desinoisellcs.'* The most stylish and exclusive of country schools, fifty pupils only, admitted, as its rules tell you — thirty boarders, and twenty cxternes as day-scholars. There are some wealtliy Canadian and English families in St. Croix, and these day-scholars are tlieir children. The board- ers come from all parts — England, the United States, the Provinces, but chiefly from Montreal. There are half a dozen female teachers who live in the pensionnat, besides four or five professors of the sterner sex who come and go to give lessons. These gentlemen come from Montreal — it is near enough to the city for that — • the cars take them in less than two hours ; and nothing masculine, with the exception of an overgrown tomcat, resides within its sanctified walls, consecrated by the pres- ence ol jeitnes filles, innocence, and all that sort of thing. Jean Baptiste, the surly old gardener, sleeps in his lodge, near the entrance-gates, with his son Amadco, who acts as porter ; and Loup, the large Canadian wolf- hound, lias his kennel under the tamaracs. Madame is a widow, a Parisienne, and drags out a dreary existence in Canada, because she is making her fortune, and in- 108 EVE. tends to go back by-and-by to belle Paris to spend it and her old age in luxury. The playground of the school is behind the house ; a large place, with a gymnasium, lots of swings, and with benches under the trees for weary ones to rest. ' Madame calls it the "cour de derri^re". She never speaks English, and French is the language of the school — the only language, in fact, the mayority of its pupils can speak. They try English now and then ; but they mince and munch the speech of Albion fearfully through their Canadian teeth, and fall back on their own oily and glib French, with a " Dieu merci ! " of in- effable relief. There is life enough in the cour de derrUre now, for the externes have gone homo, and i\\Q pcnsionnaires are enjoying their evening conge before the supper-bell rings. Thirty girls, of all sorts and sizes, of all ages from eight to twenty, all dressed alike in the week-day school-uniform, gray alpaca, high-necked and long- sleeved, with neat linen collars and cuffs, and black-silk aprons with cunning pockets. All sorts of girls, tall and short, pretty and ugly : girls with curls, girls with braids, girls with nets ; and girls with their hair cropped short, otherwise, *' shingled." You may know the EVE. 169 Canadians by their dark skin, their black eyes, and tarry tresses ; the Englisii and Americans by their fairer complexions and lighter hair and eyes ; but among tlie tints the "brune" decidedly predominates over the blonde. Some are dcvelo})ing their muscle at the gym- nasium ; some are swinging ; some have skijjping-ropes ; some are playing " Prisoner's Base " ; some are dancing ; some are singing ; some are in groups, talking ; all are united in one thing, making as much noise as they can, and deafening the tympanums of teachers who are over- seeing the uproarious mass. All but one. Apart from all the rest of the tumult- uous licrd, under the feathery branches of a tall tama- rac, a girl is standing alone, leaning against the tree, and watching the sunset with her heart in her eyes. She is not a Canadionno, though no Canadienne ever had eyes more gloriously dark and luminous, nor more shining raven ringlets than those falling loose half Avay to her waist. A beautiful face, so young, so fresh, so blooming, the oval cheeks aglow with health, the pretty mouth of scarlet bloom, the black, arching eyebrows, nearly meeting above the aquiline nose, the broad, thouglitful l)row, and the rounded chin, fair, and full of character. A beautiful face, proud and spirited — ^you 8 170 EVE. could see that by the lofty way it Avas carried ; a beauti- ful form, light, slender, and girlish, as became its own- er's sixteen years ; tall for that age, too ; and the hand playing with the green branches dainty enough to be Hebe's own. She wore the sober uniform of the school, but it became her, as anything must have become such a figure and face. She had a nickname in school, "La Princessc," and she looked a princess to her finger-tips. A portfolio lay at her feet ; with pen- cils and brushes she had been sketching the sunset, but was only thinking now. " Eve ! Eve Hazclwood ! I say. Eve, where are you ?" a shrill falsetto voice cried, in English. It aroused the girl from her reverie, and she looked around. A plump little damsel, with rosy cheeks, bright brown eyes, like a birds, and two long, braided pig- tails streaming down her back, had doubled up a fat little fist like a trumpet, and was shouting through it. "Me void!" said the young lady with the black ringlets, in a clear, sweet voice. " Here, Hazel ; under the tamaracs." *'And what are you doing under the tamaracs? At I EVE. 171 your everlasting drawing, I suppose ?" said the plump young lady, who, thougli three years the senior of her companion, looked three years the junior, and certainly was that many years her junior in sense. " No, wa c/ie're ; only thinking." Hazel Wood, no longer a cliild of three, hut a young lady of eighteen, flung herself on the grass, and looked up in her companion's face. " Thinking's something I despise, and wouldn't be guilty of at any price. You had better look out, Eve, or all the blood will go to your head, and you'll die of apoplexy, or a rush of ideas to the brain. What were you ruminating on now, pray ? — Greek verbs or IlebreAV declensions, or to-morrow's proposition in Algebra, or the end of the world, or what we're going to have for supper, or — " " There ! that's enough ! Nothing of the sort. I was just thinking how swiftly time flies." " You solemn old ninny ! I knew it was something dismal ! You and What's-his-name, Diogenes, ought to have hung out in the same tub. Swiftly time flies, in- deed ! Every day's like a month in this stupid old bar- rack 1" "Do you know what day this is, Hazel ?" 172 EVE. "Let's see ! To-morrow's half holiday, and we got clean clothes this morning, so it must bo Wednesday." "I didn't mean that — the day of the month ?" "Oh ! then I haven'i ic first idea. My worst enemy never can accuse me of knowing whether it's the first or the lust." "Shall I tell you? It's the twenty-ninth of June, and the anniversary of our coming here. Just six years to-day since you and I came here first." "And wc are likely to stay here six more, for all I can see to the contrary. I dcchire, I am growing an old maid in the place, and no prospect of leaving it ! That old savage, Doctor Lance, ought to be ashamed of himself, keeping us here just to bo out of the way ! A pretty guardian he is ! and a pretty relation Mr. Arthur Hazelwood is, rolling iji splendor in England, and leav- ing us here to go melancholy mad if we choose I I tell you what it is, Eve, I'm getting desperate, and shall do something shortly that will shake society to its utter- most foundations, if somebody doesn't take mo out of this !» EvG was silent. The luminous dark eyes were gazing at the sunset, misty and dreamy. " Six years ! How short it seems ! It is like yester- EVE. 178 day, Ilazol, since wc stood at your mother's dying-bed, and I received from her hand that strange packet, left for me by the uncle whom I never saw." Ilazel's rosy, chubby face sobered suddenly. ** poor mamma ! How we botli cried that day I By the way. Eve," jumping witli a jerk to another topic, " I wonder how Una Forest got,^ on in England ? I think it was a very shabby trick in Cousin Arthur to send for her when mamma died, and leave us poor Babes in the Wood to the mercy of that cross-grained little monsler, Doctor Lance, and that tiresome, snufiP- taking, old Frenchwoman, Madam ]\Iorcau. There !" "Ilazcl, hush ! Wc have no reason to complain of Doctor Lance. lie is rather crabbed, I allow ; but he means well, and is as good to us as it is in his nature to bo to any one. No one could be kinder than ho during my illness this spring." " I don't believe you were half so ill as you pretend- ed," said Hazel, testily. " It was all a ruse to get back to New York and enjoy yourself. Dear, delightful New York ! I would sham sick myself to get back there ; but Where's the use ? Nobody will believe mo while my cheeks keep so horrid red, and my appetite contin- ues so powerful ! What blessed times we used to have 174 EVE. promenading Broadway every afternoon, and will have again, when vacation comes, please the pigs 1 "Well, Kate Scliaffor ! What do you want ? " " I know what you want, Miss Hazel "Wood," replied Kate Schaffer, a tall, stylish-looking girl, with a dark Canadian face, though speaking excellent English, "and that is, a little manners ! " "Oh," said Eve, laughing, "manners and Cousin Hazel might be married, for they are no relation." Miss Ilazcl, no way discomposed by these left-handed compliments, sat lazily up on the grass. "Is it near tea-time, Kate? I smelt hot biscuit a while ago, when I applied my nose to the kitchen don- key-hole, but my prophetic soul is inclined to the mo- tion that Madame has company, and they're not for us." " Your prophetic soul has hit the right nail on the head, then," said Miss Schaffer. "Madame has com- pany, and you are doomed to the stale bread of everyday existence as usual." IIuzcl sighed, and gave a dejected roll on the grass. "I have just come from the parlor, though," said Kate, looking at her, " and I've got something for you better than hot biscuit." EVE. 17S "I don't believo it 1 There's nobody to send me plumcakc, and that's the only tiling in this world I do like better." "Except," said Kate, still eyeing her, "my cousin Paul." Hazel sprnng np from the grass, as if she had been galvanized. Her eyes dilated, her whole face aglow. " Kate ! lias Paul come ?" "Ah ! I thought that would do it," said Miss Schaf- fcr, coolly. "Paul's better than plumcake, is he ? Oh yes ; he's come, and so has mamma and Monsieur d'Ar- villo ; and they're all going to stay and take tea with Miidamc, and it's for them the hot biscuit are, and you'll never taste them." But the hot biscuit had lost their attraction. Hazel stood with i)!irtcd lips, her color coming and going, look- ing at Kate. And K;itc burst into a laugh. "D.» look at her. Eve ! and all about that foppish noodle, Paul Schallor, The gods forofond that I should fall in love, if it is going to make me act like that. I must go." She drew out of her pocket a little triangular note, threw it to Hazel, and sauntered off. ITG EVE. In a ?eeonJ. Hazel had torn it open and devoured its contents, her che«C'ki flushed, her eyes sparkling. As she looked np in a rapture at its conclusion, she found the dark bright eyes of Eve fixed upon lier. •' Eve ! he wants me to — " " "WelJ," siid Eve, gravely, " ho wants you to do what ?" Hazel pouted. "You're nothing but a stiff old prude ! I sha'n't tell you ! Oh. there's the bi'll I Come to sup[)er.'' She flew off as she spoke, like a lapwing, tlirusting tlie note into Love's own post-office — lier bosom. Eva Hazelwood followeil more slowly, fell into the rank with the rest, and marched into the saUe d man- ger, when* a long table was laid for the thirty hungry pensionnaire.*, and the six teachers. After supper, came study ; after tliat, evening-read- ing and prayers : and then the girls went off to their rooms. Every two shared a chamber, and Eve and Hazel had not been separated from tlie first. Very plainly these Khambrf's d concJier were furnished : a painted floor, two small French beds, with hardly room to turn in — bnt Madame Moreau was of the same opinion as the Iron Duke, tliat when one begins to turn t EVE. 177 in bed, it is time to turn out of it — a washstand, a table, two cbairs, and two trunks. Tbc room tbo cousins occupied was on tbe second floor, and overlooked the playground. Eve set tlie lamp she carried on the table, and drew forth slate and ]H'ncil to ^vrite to-morrow's composition, the suljji'ct, 'TuliLical Economy." Ilazol did the same; but her pencil only drew fox- and-geese, and her mmd was running on a far sweeter subject than dry " Puliticai Economy." So they sat opposite each other for an hour, neither speaking a word, until, at the loud ringing of the nine o'clock bell — the signal to extinguish all lights and go to bed — Eve looked up. "Havo you finished ?" she asked. " Yos — no — I don't know," stammered Hazel, wak- ing from lur day-dreaming. " Why. y(ni haven't v/rittcn a word I Why, Hazel, what have you been about ?" *'0h, it's no odds I" said Hazel, with sublime indif- ference. " I'll coi)y somebody else's to-morrow 1 Let's go to bed !" " We will have to," said Eve, " for here comes Miss Green for tlie light." 178 EYE. An under-teaclicr entered, took tlic lamp and went out. Eve knelt down, said her prayers, undressed rapidly, and went to bed ; but Hazel sat by the window, looking out at tlie moonlight, and doing something Tery unusual with lior, thinking. *'Do you mean to sit there all niglit," demanded Eve, drowsily. ** You have got very sentimental all of a .sudden, watching tlio moon." "I'm studying astronomy — that's all. N"cver you mind me. I have got very fond of it lately !" " I slioiild think so ! You won't have an eye in your head to-morrow ! Go to sleep I" "Go yourself !" said Hazel testily, "and don't both- er r Eve did as directed, and dropped asleep ten minutes after. The convent-boll pealing eleven awoke her from a vivid dream of seeing Hazel drowning, and she started uj) in bed, her heart tliroblnng. " Hazel ! I have had such a dream ! Are you asleep ?'' No, Hazel was not asleep — was not in tlio room at all ! The full midnight moon sliining in showed an empty bed, a vacant chair, and an open window. It all flashed on Eve at once, she rose up and went ^f wa.ai^ii'm 'iwiina EVE, 179 r to tlio window, Yos, there was a rope-ladeler, and tlicro wore two figures walking in the moonliglit, under the ehaduws of the trees — one, tlio tall form of a man; the otiii , sliawltnl and hooded, Hazel Wood. ]']ve went haek to lier bed, her cheeks burning, her heart tlirobbiiig. Tea minutes passed, twenty, half an hour, and then ,-lie heard Hazel enter softly, and pause to listen for an in -(ant. "Good night," Eve heard her breathe softly to some one below, as slio shut tlic window. "She is asleep. Farewell until to-morrow I'' After whieh Miss Wood retired to rest, but not to sleep. Long after Eve had dropped once more into the innocent and untronbled slumber that rarely comes after sixteen, seldom with boarding-school damsels lasts so long, Ilazi'l was tossing back and furtli on her pillow, her heart in a tumult of delicious unrest, and one name ever on her lips: "Dear, dear, dear, Paul !" ' Love not ! love not ! warning vainly said !" Very true, Mrs. Norton, and one moth will not take warning by its singed brother, but will flutter round the fiery fascination until its own wings are singed, and has nothing left to do but drop down and die. And so, 180 THE PEXSrONXAIRES' FETR. IL'izcl Wood, poor little fool 1 droam on wliilo you may ! You will pass through tho Cory ordoal, and your darling Paul will caro just as mucli as tho candle does for tho moth I CHAPTER XII. THE I'KXSIOXNAIRES' FETE. VE !" "Well?" " IIow long have you been up, I should like to know ?" ''Half an hour." Hazel Wood rose upon her elbow in bed with a loud yawn. The morning sunlight streaming in througli tho open window, Avith the matin songs of tlie birds, and the sweet scents of lilacs and laburnums fell on Evo Hazelwood, putting the finishing touches to her toilet before the glass. It was a lovely face that glass re- flected ; the cheeks yet flushed from sleep, her ))riglit dark eyes so starry and lustrous, and tho profusion of glittering jetty ringlets falling freshly combed, in a Sm^^mai^d 1 . 1 IHE PENSI0NNAIRN8 PETE. 181 shining shower over her shouklers. Ilazel showed her apprcciiition of the picture by [mother prodigious yawn, and a hizy roll over in bed. "How doth tlie little busy bee improve each shin- ing — I say, Eve ! what set you up at such an un- christian hour ?" " It is not an unchristian hour. It is half-past five o'clock." ** And what do you call that, I should like to know ? yaw-w-w ! I feel as if I could sleep a week !"' "If people go to bed at proper hours," said the pretty wiseacre before the glass, " they will be able to rise at proper hours, and not want to be stewing in a hot bed such a lovely morning as this !*' This hint was ])retty liroad, but Miss Wood never took hints. She tumbled lazily off her couch, and be- gan slowly and with many yawns to dress. "Wliat noise the birds are making!" she said, with a dissatisfied air. " Is the day fine, Eve ?" Eve opened her black eyes at this question, the little room being fairly flooded with sunlight. *' No, a tempest is raging— don't you see it ? Are you sure you arc quite awake, Miss Wood ?" *' Not so very," said Hazel, rubbing her eyes, "but I 182 THE PENSIONNAIUES FETE. J I'm very glad it's fine. Wo arc going to have the jolliest time to-day, Eve !" "Jolliest! That's a nice v^'ord from a young lady's lips." *' Oh, bother ! I'd be sorry to be a young lady ! I tell you we are in for heaps of fun before night !" "Arc we?" said Eve, sitting down by tlie window, whore Uazel had sat last night, and taking \v^ her Gcr- man grammar, "how is that ?" "It's half-holiday, you know, any way," said Hazel, vividly interested at once in her subject, " and what's more, il's Kate '^rlia tier's birthday, and her mamma is going to give a g.and fClo cliampClrc this afternoon, in their grounds, and all the girls Kate likes arc to be in- vited." "Indeed ? Kate said nothing about it yesterday." " For a very good reason — she knew nothing about it, and does not yet. It was that brought Sladame Schaf- fer here last evening, and Madame Moreati gave permis- sion, of course — catch her refusing the rich Schuffers anything — and Kate is to be told this afternoon !" Eve fixed her powerful dark eyes on Hazel's radiant face. " And how did you find it out, may I ask ?" f iWiiniLiii THE PEXSIOXXAIRES' FETE. 183 "Oil!" exclaimed Ilazcl, pottislily, but -^^'itli the guilty scarlet mounting to her face, "that's my secret ! Perhaps I dreamt it, or perhaps a little bird told me, or—" " Or more likely Mr. Paul Schaffer told you last night." Hazel suddoiily dropped the hairbrush she was using and stood confuimdcd. "Eve!" *' Oh, I know all aljout it, my dear ! IIow the note yesterday made the appointment ; how you sat up last night at tliis window watching until you saw him enter the grounds ; how he supplied you with a ri>pe-laddcr ; and how you had an interview with liim, aiul got back here about midnight ! Don't trou])le yourself to tell fibs. I was not asleep, though you tliought so !" "And you stayed awake to play the spy upon me 1 Eve ITazclwood — " " You know better tlian (liat ! I was asleep when you lofc the room ; but f awoke, niii'sod you, found the window open, and made use of my eyes — that is all. What am T to think of such conduct. Cousin Uazel ?" "What you please, Cousin Eve !" " Arc you not ashamed ? " 184 TUB PEXSTONyATREa' FETE "Not the loiist!" One of Eve's feet was beating an excited tattoo on the painted floor, and lier eheeks were like rosy flame. "Hazel, are you engaged to this man ?" "Now, now, Grandmother Grunty, I won't liave any of your lecturing. Engaged ! fiddlesticks ! Can't one enjoy a schoolgirl flirtation without being so dowdyisli as to got engaged ! Your'e the greatest goose, Evo Hazelwood, that ever wore crinoline !" Eve opened her grammar silently ; her lips com- pressed, her cheeks more deeply flushed. "And now you're cross," broke out Miss Wood, resent- fully, who liked her cousin to be in a talking mode, even when she talked to chide. "Now, will ;you tell me whore's the very great crime in what I've done? All schoolgirls flirt, and why shouldn't I ?" "Schoolgirls have no business to flirt, then; least of all, with such men as this Paul Scliaft'cr." " This Paul Schaffer !" still more resentfully. "Don't you say anything against him, Miss Hazelwood, if you want to be friends with me. You don't know him, and Eo have no right to speak !" " It is because I am your friend that I do speak. As for knowing, it is true I never saw him j but from what TIIH: PRySTONNAIIiES' FETE. 185 you and his cousin say of him, I jnago ho is nothing but a vain, conceited coxcomb." '* Notliing of the sort. lie may bo a little vain, I allow, but then he is as handsome as an angel. If you wore good-looking yourself, you would be conceited, too, I dare say !" Eve smiled a little. She knew perfectly well she was more than good-looking, but the small sin of vanity was not hers. "Hazel, take care! You may bo sorry some day. If I were you I would have nothing to do with Paul Schaffor." "Of course, you wouldn't," said Hazel with a sneer, and lirnshing her brown hair furiously. " Nothing less than a king on his ihrone, or a hero of a novel, would suit La Princesse. They say the Prince of Wales will visit Canada this summer ; perhaps you might conde- scend to marry him." Eve smiled again, and lifted her beautiful head with a gesture graceful and proud. " I am not so sure of that, ma cMrc; certainly I would not if I had no other reason than his ])eing Prince of Wales. Pjcsidcs," with a laugh, "Paul Schalfer is a German. Would you marry a sourkrout-eating, 180 TUB PENSTOyyATRBS' FETE. lagor-biev drinking, mecrscliaum-pipc-smoking Dutch- man ?" "Queen Victoria marrioii ono. 1 don't pretend to be above my betters." "Well, please yourself," said Eve, rising at the sound of a bell ringing a rousing reveille to the noisy pupils, "and then yon won't die ii\ a pet. Make husto down stairs, or yon will be marked ' late,' as usual !" Hazel had no need to warn Eve not to teli ; she knew her too well for that. She did hurry down stairs, and met the other pcnsionnaii-es tearing like comets through the corridors and down stairs to morning prayers, jerking aprons and collars straight as they went. There was no time for further talk ; for after prayers came study ; after that, breakfast ; and the morning i)lay-hour, which followed, was lost to Hazel, who, to her intense annoyance, was called off to practice her last music-lesson. Tliursday being a half-Iioliday, the girls dined at twelve — an hour earlier than usual ; and just as the demi-pcnsionnaires were tying on their hats to go homo. Madam Moreau, a bland and debonnaire Frenchwoman, sailed into the classroom with a mighty rustling of silk flounces, and smiling announced the delightful fact of THE PENSIONNAIRES' FETE. 187 tho Sch after /c^e, and that all tho young ladies invited by Mademoiselle Soluifler were at liberty to go. "I want all the girls in our division to go," said Kate, who, used to petting, and all sorts of pleasant surprises from her doting mamma, took tho announco- ment very coolly, "and, in fact, the whole ecliool, madame, if you'll let them como." Madame graciously gave permission, and swept out again ; and her departure was the signal for an uproar that would have sliamcd Babel. Kate Schaffer was seized by dozens of hands, and seemed in imminent danger of being kissed to death. " There, there, girls ! don't smother me !" she impa- tiently cried, breaking free. "You day-scholars got home, can't you, or you'll never be in time, and the rest of you let me alone ! Eve Ilazelwood, where are you ? I want yon." "What for? to kiss you ?" Eve asked, laughing. ]vatc made a grimace. "No, thank you. I liave had enough of that. If there is one thing in this world more sickening than another, it is schoolgirl kisses. It is worse than pepiier- mint candy, and that is fit for neither gods nor men. What are you going to wear ?" ..^^.^ ■>r^%^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) !? ^ // // '^6 :/. f/. .d> 4(i LO I I.I 11.25 no 1^ I 2.5 ^ IIIIIM 1.8 1.4 11.6 ^/ A /; .v^' V /A ''W '/ PhotDgiapliic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 . (716)872-4503 m d a\ o '^^ ^^"^0^ ^-^ \ 188 THE PENSIONNAIRES' FETE. " White, I suppose. I liave nothing else." *' Antl you know it becomes j-ou. I say, Eve, Pro- fessor D'Arvillo is to be there, and you mustn't cut me out." " Bah ! Is he so handsome, then ?" " Like an angel. All tlie girls are wild about him." "Oil, I know that. He has been the burden of all their songs ever since my return. Are there to be many gentlemen ?" " Half a dozen only. I know all about it, thought mamma thinks 1 am in a delightful state of ignorance. "Monsieur D'Arvillo," said Kate, reckoning on her fin- gers, "he's one; Paul Schaffer is two; brother Louis, three : and — " "And there's the dinner-bell, that's four. Come along !" cried Hazel Wood, rushing past. Immediately after dinner, the young ladies flocked up to their rooms to dress, and in half an hour reap- peared, en grandc tcnue — which, in English, means in white muslin dresses, streaming blue and rose ribbons, and straw flats. Fairest, where all Avere more or less fair, Eve Hazelwood stood in their midst ; her thin, sunny white dress floating about her, the rosy ribbons less bright than the roses on her cheeks, and all her beautiful curls, THE PENSIONNAlREr FETE. 180 I vailing the plump white shoulders, plainly traceable under the gauze. Two carriages were at the door waiting ; and in a high state of bustle, delight, and excitement, that we never fool — moro's the pil y ! — after our bread-and-but- ter days, the pciisionnnires fluttered in, and took their seats. As they drove along the dirty highroad, every cottage gate, door and window were lined with admir- ing faces, for the pretty schoolgirls were the pride and delight of St. Croix ; and there were bowing and smiling, and throwing of kisses, and waving of hand- kerchiefs, until they reached the outer gate of the Schallor rpansion. Over the gate there was an arch of evergreens, with the word " Welcome," in letters made of red and white roses ; and here the carriages stopped, and their fair inmates aliglited. A troop of the village-children, witli baskets on thir arms, went before thera, scattering flowers, and singing the song 80 popular among the habitans, " Vive la Cana- diennc." **0 Kate," Eve Hazelwood cried, as they walked up the broad avenue toTcthcr, "how charming such a birthday-welcome is, and what it is to have a mother's love 1 I almost wish I were a Canadienne to-day 1" \ 100 TUE PENSI0NNAIRE8' FETE. "I wouldn't be anything else for the world 1 Look 1 there's mamma and a whole crowd of ladies and gentle- men over — " Kate's words were drowned in a storm of music. A band, under a grove of tamaracs, struck up the national anthem of Lower Canada, "A la Claire Fon- taine T' Monsieur and Madame Schaffcr, at the head of a host of guests, came forward to embrace their daughter, and welcome hor friends. "And whore is my pet, my beauty, my lovely American rose ?" madamo cried, with very French offu- sion. "Where is my oeautiful evening-star !" " Gracious, mamma ! don't be so hifalutin 1 Eve, come here ; mamma wants you !" "You darling child !" madamo exclaimed, kissing her on both checks, " I am enraptured at seeing you again. Let me look at you — they told me you were sick, but you are blooming as a June rosebud !" "I am better, madame," Eve said, with a little laugh and a vivid blush. " I am quite well again !" "I don't believe she was sick at all, mamma. It was only a ruse, as Hazel Wood says, to get back to her dear New York. She likes it ever so much better than MoDtreal" M \ TUE PENSI0NNATRE3' FETE. 191 "Very bail tasto on miidcmoisollo's part," said a gontleman on whose arm Madame SchalTer leaned, ** noisy, restless place tliat it is ! One stroll down Notre Dame street is worth a dozen Broadway prome- nades." ** Monsieur D'Arvillc, this is the first time you have seen your pupil — your star pupil, also — is it not ? How stupid of me ! Mademoiselle Hazelwood, your future preceptor, Monsieur D'Arvillc !" Eve dropped her dark eyelashes and bowed This then was the angel of Miss Kate Schaffer's dreams — Btrikingly handsome, certainly, with a dark, coiorless, Creole face; dark dreamy eyes, half closed and a little elecpy-looking in repose, but that could open and flash fire, too, when roused, as a second glance would tell you; a low, broad brow ; a mouth compressed and a little stern ; and hands and feet of most lady-like delicacy and smalincss. lie was not tall, rather under the medium size, and slender and boyish of form. His lack of stat- ure, his half-closed eyes, aed regularity of features, gave him a somewhat effeminate appearance at first sight; but Lavater could have read another story in those thin compressed lips, that arched and quivering nostril, and the flash that now and then leaped out from under his 103 THE PEysroyiTATRES' FETE. long eyelashes. lie spoke with a slight accent, but in excellent English. "Monsieur is a Canadian, and at liberty to like Xolre Dame street : I, an American girl, wish leave to adore Broadway. Tiioro is no ])lace like it under tlio sun !" " Bravo, Eve ! you always were a brick, and ready to fight for the land of Washington ! How do you find yourself all these ages ? Pretty jolly, I hope !" Eve knew that free and easy voice, and was used to it ; but with the dark eyes of Professor D'Arville looking on, it discomfited her for the lirst time. She turned round good-naturodly, though, to return Louis Schaf- fer's greeting, and gave the tall boisterous hobbledehoy to understand she was as jolly as could be expected. " You look like it ! not much like a sick case, eh ? Where's Hazel ? She's the stunningest girl in the pensionnat /" "There she is with Cousin Paul," said Kate ; "but don't you go bothering ! She don't want you, I can tell you v> "All right, then!" said easy Louis, strutting off; 'there's lots more girls, and I'm going for a good time among them. ' Hazel did not want him. Leaning on the arm of • THE PENSIONNAIRES' FETE. 193 tall, fasbionably-drcssed, good-looking young man, she was cominj^ toward them, talking earnestly. "But she is so pretty, Paul— so very, very pretty, I am afraid you won't care for me after you see Eve." "My dear little Hazel! don't be a goose! I bave lieard so much of this fair cousin of yours, that I feel naturally curious to see her— that is all. I sba'u't like her, I know — I never did fancy ice-cream." " And Eve is a prude — cold, and sensible as a female' Solomon I You should have heard her lecture me for meeting you last night 1" " Did she ? Give her my compliments the next time she presumes to lecture, and inform her the eleventh commandment is, 'Mind your own business !'" " Paul ! and you arc sure, quite sure, you won't like her better than me ? Sbe is so pretty, and you ad- mire beauty so much 1" " Bah ! ' The girl that all are praising is not the girl for me.' I have seen the Venus Celestis in marble and oil-colors, hundreds of times, and I never fell in love with it yet. I tell you I don't like nonncttcs, and icebergs in white muslin. You, my little wild rose, suit me exactly ; and we will leave the cold white lily to — to Professor D'Arvilie." 194 THE rENSrONNAlRES' FETE. "And there slic is talking to Professor D'Arvillo, now 1 Oil, I am so glad, Paul, that you will not like her better than you do mo 1 Come along, and you shall have an introduction." Paul Schiiffcr had heard enough of Eve Hazel wood to be prepared to see an extremely pretty girl, but hardly the beautiful face tliat turned to him as Hazel went througli the formula of introduction. Hazel's eye.T were ui)on him, so he betrayed neither sur])ri!5e nor admiration, but both were in his heart. Hazel's more girlish good looks lost lamentably by contrast with the bright brunette beauty of lier queenly cousin. Louis Schaflfer came bustling up, noisy and excited, interrupting his cousin Paul's bland commonplaces. "I say, Eve! they're getting up the Lancers; and you're the only girl of the lot that knows how to danco them decently, so you must be my partner. Come along !" "But, Louis—" " Come along, and don't bother 1" was Master Louis's polite rejoinder. "You can finish your 'two- handed crack,' as the Scotch call it, with Professor D'Arvillo when the set's over. Come !" There was no resisting Louis, who was a human ■ II TUB PENSNIONAIRES' FETE. 198 whirlwind in his Avay, and pulled Eve's arm through his without ceremony. Professor D'Arvillc, who never was guilty of any- thing so undignified us dancing, lifted his hat in adieu, and turned away. "I say, Paul," cried Louis, "we want a vis-a-vis. Can't you and lli;^cl— liow d'ye do. Hazel ?— can't you two come ?' " Delighted of all things ! Arc you fond of dancing. Miss Ilazelwoud ?'' Eve, by no means pleased at Louis' rude conduct, replied coldly and briefly, and took her place without speaking to her partner. Very little her silence troubled Master Louis Schaf- fer, who weni through the quadrille, as he did every- thing else, with all the energy of his body and mind. Paul Schaffer's languid grace of motion was a striking contrast, but she at whom all his poetry of motion was aimed paid very little attention to him or it, and was heartily glad when the sot' was over, and she was rid of Louis. As she stood leaning against a tree, a few minutes listening to the music, Kate SchafiEer and Hazel came 106 THE PENSIONNAIRES' FETE. I' i i strutting up, their arms entwined, schoolgirl fashion, round each other's waists. ** Oh, here she is, like Patience on a monument, or anything else that's stupid or dowdyish 1" burst forth Hazel ; "and Kate and I have been hunting for you all over. Who are you thinking of ? — Professor D'Arville ?" "Yes," said Eve, composedly; "of him, and of something else." " How do you like him, Eve I" asked Kate. " I have had no time to like or dislike him, yet." " But don't you think him splendid ?" " Perfectly mag. and all that sort of thing ?" put in Hazel, " mag." being short for magnificent. "I think him handsome — yes." **0h, do you ?'' sneered Kate. "It's a wonder La Princesse condescends to think oven that. You made another acquaintance, didn't you ? How do you like Paul ?" "I scarcely saw him. Louis carried me off like a tornado that he is. But I was just thinking, as you two came up, what I always think when I make a new ac- quaintance, whether or not they will have any influence over my future life." THE END OF THE FETE. 197 ** Quien sabc?" laughed Kate. "What an old phil- osopher it is." "Perhaps," said Hazel, with a small sneer, "she thinks they will both fall in love with her, or have done BO, at first sight !" "Bah 1 Can you never talk of anything but falling in love ? Come, I have done thinking, and am quite at your service, mesdemoiselles." The three went away together ; but could they have Been the future, or had Hazel Wood known she had uttered a prophecy, they would hardly have gone with sucli light hearts to join in iha pens ionnaires' file. Bo happy to-day. Eve, rejoice while you may, for your happy girlhood is flying from you even at this hour I CHAPTER Xni. THE END OF THE FETE. \ ROFESSOR CLAUDE D'ARVILLE stood leaning against the trunk of a giant pine, whoso long arms cast giant shadows on the sunny sward, watching with dreamy, half-closed eyes 108 THR END OF THE FETE. tlio picture before liini. lie looked like an artist, this diirk-eyed, thoiightfiil-hrowed, cliissiciil-fetitured young Caiiiidiiin, und ho looked what he was — an artist heart ftud soul. It was a study for an artist, too — the scene on which he gazed — and in after-years that very scene, immortalized on canvas, and exhibited at the Academy of Art, in London, was one of the first of his paintings to win him fame. The cloudless summer-sky over his head, fleeced with billows of downy white, and away in the west, where the sun was sinking, an oriflammo of purple, gold, and crimson, the whole western horizon radiant with rosy light. The jjines, the tamaracs, and maples reared their tall heads agaiiist it; its vivid glory of coloring glittering on their green leaves as their branches rustkd softly in the light breeze, and cast long cool shadows on the grass. The twittering of the not very sweet-voiced but gaudy-colored Canadian birds, the plashing of a fountain near, the crisp chirping of ViiQ grasshojipers at his feet, made an undercurrent of melody of their own, audible even above the crashing of the brass-band and the shouting and vociferous talking and laughing of the emancipated schoolgirls. The pine- tree beside which he stood was an eminence commanding a view cf the whole grounds, with its glens and walks, " .. THK ESD OF THE FRTK. 190 and sumuior-liouscs, ami cascades, and parterres, and broad lawns, and 8lo])ing glades "Up and down these shaded wOk;: the white muslin skirts and blue ribbons of i\\o prnsionnuircs flutLercd be- side the black dress-coats of Louis Scliaffer's fellow- students from one of the Montreal colleges. Kate Schaf- fer had said there would be half a dozen gentlemen at the fttc ; had she said two dozen, she would have been nearer the mark ; but, not being a i)roi)hete.ss, how was she to tell her irrepressible brother intended inviting half his cassmates ? On the lawn, some were daiuing; among the trees, some were swinging ; groui)s were seated together on the grass, having sociable chats ; white muslin and black coats turning and twisting everywhere ; and the band under the tamaraes still phiying " Vive la Canadienne !" Professor D'ArvilJe saw all this, and something else, too. Three of those white-muslin angels were coming toward him One a plump little damsel, with cheeks like scarlet rose-berries, brown eyes, brown braids, and azure ribbons ; one, a gipsy-faced, dashing young brun- ette, a daughter of the land, and the queen of the fefej and the third, who walked in the center, swinging her straw-hat by its rosy ribbons, her black curls entwined aoa TUE END OF THE FETE. with crimson geranium-blossoms and deep-green leaves. Ah, Professor D'Arville! artist and bcauty-worsliiper, is there anything in all you see before you as fair as she ? No Canadian, tliough her eyes are like black stars, and those glossy ringlets of jetty darkness, that delicate complexion and bright bloom of color belong to another land. Lopk as long as you please on the beauty of sky and earth, or tree and flowers, it is not half so danger- ous as one glance at that noble and lovely head. ** Vive la Canadienne ! et see beaux yeux, Et SOS beaux yeux tous doux, Et ses beaux yeux," + ^r hummed a voice behind him ; and turning liis lazy glance Monsieur D'Arville saw Paul Schaffer lounging up, look- at the three girls, too. He touched his hat, with a meaning smile, to the young artist. ** I need no. ask if monsieur is enjoying himself. I see that he is." "Yes, monsieur; solitude is enjoyment some- times." ** Pardon, that I have broken it ; but it was likely to THE END OF THE FETE. 201 i be broken anyway, in a pleasanter manner, perhaps. See ! The three belles of the/e/e are coming towards you," *' They are going to the house, I presume ; for they have not even seen me yet." " Monsieur's modesty ! He does not need to be told he is a favorite with the ladies I" Professor D'Arville fixed his eyes in a steady stare on Mr. Schafler's facc> in a way that would have discom- posed any other man, but did not in the least disturb the bland equanimity of the young gentleman before him. " A deuced pretty girl, that Miss Eve Hazelwood ! Don't you think so, monsieur ? One of your pupils, too, no doubt. What an enviable fate is yours !" The brow of the young professor contracted slightly : but his only answer was sileuv-e, cold and haughty. " The call her La Princcssc in the school," went on easy Mr. Schaffcr, *' and, by Jove, she looks it ! Talk about the beaux ycux of our Canadian girls ! I never saw such a pair of eyes in my life as mademoiselle has !" " Is monsieur in love ?" Professor D'Arville asked, with a slight smile and French shrug. " I would be, if I dared ; but one might as well fall in love with the moon, if all I have heard of her be true. 9* 202 THE END OF TEE FETE. I like flesli and blood, not statues. One live woman is worth a thousand marble ones." Professor D'Arville made a gesture toward Hazel, who was laughiug at something until her cheeks were crimson. " If monsieur likes flesh and blood, he has it there. The future Madame SchafEer — is it not ?" "Will you have a cigar, monsieur?" was Paul SchafEer's answer. "No? Then, with your permis- sion, I will." " Why, here's Paul ! " called out Kate, catching sight of the two gentlemen. " I say, Paul, Louis told me to tell you — " What Louis had told her to tell, Mr. Paul Schaffer was not destined to hear ; for, just then, there was a tremendous shout, and Louis himself came bursting through the trees, his hair flying, his face flushed — altogether, in a state of frenzied excitement. " This way — this way, all of you ! Here's a lot more of the crowd, and we'll all have our fortunes told together." "MonDieu! has that madhcad gone crazy?" was Kate's cry, while the rest stared. " Gone crazy ? Catch me at it 1 Here, you old ? CI Tim END OF THE FETE. I (' Meg Merrilic'S, or whatever they call you, come this way ! Ilere's another batch that want you to spao their fortunes." Half a dozen girls and as many young men, with a vast deal of noise and tumult, and in their midst an out- landish-looking figure. Ic was an old woman, bent, and leaning on a stick; her brown shriveled face and f mall bright eyes peering from beneath a huge bonnet ; a dingy blue cloak wrapped about her, and beneath it a scant red dress hardly reaching to her ankle. A more uncouth or witchlike figure no one there had ever seen ; and Louis, catching her by the arm, drew her forward, and presented her with a flourishing bow. "One of Macbeth's witches, ladies and gentlemen, come from Hades by the last express-train, to tell your fortunes ! She has told all of ours, and made fifteen shillings by the performance ; and now, if you have any spare change about you, she is willing to lift the vail of future for you. Eve, hold out your hand, and let us hear what the future has in store for you besides a coffin !" *'No !" said Eve, shrinking back. " Let Kate and Hazel try, if they wish ; I had rather not." The old woman, whose eyes had been darting from 204 THE END OF THE FETE. ono face to another, turned tlicra, at the sound of her voice, on Eve, and, to the surprise of every one, broke out into a shrill and irrepressible cry. It was not a cry of astonishment ; it was more like triumph, repressed almost instantly ; but her eyes gleamed with a strange fire, and the dirty, skinny hand she held out trembled with eagerness. "Yes, yes, yes, my pretty lady!" she exclaimed, chrilly; "let me tell your fortune! Don't be afraid, my dearie ; the future can have nothing but good in it for one so beautiful as you." Her first cry had been repressed so quickly that it had passed almost unnoticed, save by one, who bent his brows and watched the beldame keenly. Eve shrank further away. "No; don't trouble yourself about my future. I dare say, I will know it soon enough." "Oh, botheration !" broke out Louis, "don't be such a guy. Eve ! Let the old girl tell your fortune. Sho does it strong, I tell you !" "No," said Eve, resolutely turning away. "I shall not tempt the future, even in jest. Besides" — half laughing — " I have no money, and the oracle is a golden glutton, and will not speak unless bribed." THE END OF THE FETE. aor \ A storm of wordy abuse fell unheeded on Eve's ear as she turned away ; and, lifting her eyes, she caught Professor D'Arville's penetrating glance fixed upon her. "So you have no fuitli in destiny ?" " I do not believe in fortune- telling, if that is what you mean ; and I believe it is wrong to encourage any one to make a living by any such means." The Professor smiled, and the smile lit up his dark Creole face with a rare beauty. " Wisdom from the lips of sixteen ! xou see I know your age, mademoiselle. I knew beforehand you had considerable moral courage, but I did not know it was quite so strong." " Monsieur pays me a compliment," Eve said, her heart lluttcring a little. "I assure you, I can be obsti- nate enough when I please 1 Are you going up to the house ?" "If mademoiselle will permit me to accompany her ?*' Eve bowed, and Prosessor D'Arvillo offered his arm. A dark and sinister glance followed them ; and Louis Schaffer touched Hazel on the arm, with a slight and contemptuous laugh. ** See Hazel ! One would think they had known 206 THE END OF THE FETE. li' each other from their cradles. Pai^l and Virginia, eh?" "They make a very nice couple, I think. How do you like Eve ?" Mr. Schaffer raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so-so. A pretty girl with black eyes, but nothing to set the St. Lawrence on fire. Slie is a sort of second Minerva, is she not ? In making her, they forgot to add tha^ trifling item — a heart." "Nonsense, Paul ! " But Hazel's face was radiant. "I won't have you talk so of my handsome Cousin Eve ! " "My dear, I beg your pardon. You asked my opinion, and you have it." " But every one admires her." "And so do I, immensely — as I admire sculptured Dianas and Niobcs. But as to falling in love with any- thing so celestially cold — bah ! " "0 Paul !" — and Hazel's hands clasped his arm, and Hazel's beaming face was uplifted in ecstacy — " I am so glad ! Do you know I was awfully afraid you would never think of me after you saw Eve ?" " You're a little simpleton. Hazel. Do you know that ? And to punish you, I have a good mind not to tell you something that I think would please you." ' THE END OF THE FETE. 807 ' I "What is it, Paul?" " Come up to the house ; I don't want all these gap- ing girls to hear. It is this : the regiment are ordered off somewhere, and before they go give a grand ball. Will you come ? " " Paul, I can't." ** Hazel, you can. Dress in your room, descend by the rope-ladder, I will drive you to the depot, the cars will take us to '""ontreal ia an hour and a half, and you can return by tl)e four o'clock express in the morn- ing. You will have a night's pleasure, and Madame Moreau nor any of her dragons be the wiser !" " But, Paul—" "Vfdl in'' amour r " It wouldn't—" laughing, and blushing deeply ; "it wouldn't be proper !" " Tut, tut, tut, proper ! Ave you not my little wife, or as good ? Get a companion if you like ; ask La Princesse to come with you !" " Eve !" Hazel cried, aghast, " why, Paul, Eve would as soon take a pistol and blow her own brains out as do anything of the kind ! Eve, indeed ! it's little you know of her to suggest such a thing !" "Try, any way. If she refuses, Kate Schaffer 208 THE END OF THE FETE. V pi won't, and slie can go with Louis ! Mai peste ! How I hate priules !" After that, poor Hazel would as soon thought of blowing her brains out as refusing, and they had it all settled before they reached the house. Some one was singing as they entered the long drawing-room, half filled with eager listeners ; and among these listeners a white figure, with black curls and pink ribbons, in the shadow of the window-curtains, drinking in every word — every note. The singer was Professor Claude D'Arville, who could sing and play as well as he could paint, and the song was "Ellen Adair." Paul SchafEer and Hazel "Wood stood in the doorAvay and listened with the rest : "Ellen Adair she loved mo well, Against her father and mother's will. To-day I sat for an hour and wept, By Ellen's grave on the windy hill, ** Shy she was, and I thought her cold — Tiiought her proud, and fled o'er the sea; Filled was I with folly and spite, When Ellen Adair was dying for me." 4 ■ ** There is the Ellen Adair he is thinking of," whis- pered Paul ; "look at the window J but she never will die for him or any one else.'* THE END OF THE FETE. 209 "All ! I tloii't know," said Ilazcl, with a sentimental loook, * the trail of the serpent is over all,' Moore says, and she is only morial, like the rest of us." "Marble, you should say! There, he is at the second verse, and it is not polite to talk, I supjwse." The son^j was finished amid a buzz of applause, in ■which the white ligure at the window did not join. They saw her shrink away into the shadow of the cur- tains, and glide through the open window out on the lawn. The sinister eyes that never ceased watching her saw the act, and saw Professor D'Arville saunter away in another direction. The sunny afternoon was ending in a cloudless moonlight night, as Eve Ilazclwood, avoiding tho numerous groups of gay girls and young men, strolled by herself down a shady pine avenue, toward the gate, and leaning against it watched the round red moon rise, with her beauty in her eyes. Far off, one solemn star shone, the precursor of the rising host. The peaceful village lay beneath her, hushed in the holy silence of eventide ; the convent-bcU was ringing for vespers, and while she stood listening to its slow, sweet music, two of tho nuns passed her on their way there. One was a sober-looking, middle-aged woman ; the 210 THE END OF THE FETE. other, a young giil not much older than Eve herself, and with a face almost as beautiful and fair, more gentle and sweet. Eve watched them out of sight, wondering if the young nun was happy, and very, very doubtful of it. She need not have been. Sister Agnes was perfectly happy ; but the world looked a very bright and beautiful place to the inexperienced schoolgirl, and somehow, this afternoon it had acquired a new charm. Had the sun ever shone so brightly before ? llad she ever spent such a pleasant afternoon ? And was there ever so charming a song as " Ellen Adair ?" Ah ! there lay the key-note of all, and half unconsciously she be- gan to sing : " Love raay come and love may go, And fly like a bird from tree to tree, But I will love no more, no more, Till Ellen Adair comes back to me." " You liked my song, then ?" said a quiet voice be- hind her, and Eve fairly bounded. She had heard no step on the velvety sward, but Professor D'Arville stood at her elbow. "Pardon, mademoiselle, I did not mean to startle you. Being tired of the heat and noise of the house I strolled down here to enjoy the beauty of the evening TUE E^D OF THE FETE. 211 alone. I see maacmoisellc is an admirer of the beauties of Nature, too. If I intrude, I will depart." "Oh no," said Eve, laying her hand on her breast, to still her startled heart-beating ; *' this place is free to all." He leaned against the gate and looked at her. "Soyou like 'Ellen Adair'?" " Yes monsieur, 1 like every thing Tennyson writes." "Yet it is ruljbish, after all— sentimental trash! Don't you think so ?" " No, monsieur !" rather indignantly ; " I should bo Borry to think so ! Tennyson could not write rubbish if he tried." «' Oh, I see ! You are like all the other romantic young ladies in the world ! Have you read ' Mariana in the Moated Grange' ?" "A hundred times, monsieur! I know it every word off." " What lucky follows these poets are ! Ah, who have we here ? A brigand, or the hero of a three-vol- ume novel. Perhaps Tennyson himself." Eve's eyes were asking the same question, though her lips were silent. Up the moonlit road a tall figure was striding-the figure of a man in a long, picturesque 212 TUE END OF TUB F/'JTE. and most foreign-looking cloak, a broad-brimmed stravr hut pulled over his face, completely concealing it, and a cigar between his lii)S. " What a strange-looking figure 1" said Eve, woiider- ingly. "Who can ho be, and what can have brought him to St. Croix ?" ** Questions I cannot take it upon myself to answer. Why, he ia actually coming hero 1" The foreign-looking stranger had caught sight of the two figures standing within the gate, and flinging his cigar away, walked up to thorn. Taking off liis hat to Eve, he made a courtly bow ; and in the moonlight, clear as day, she saw a bronzed and mustachcd face, swarthy as that of a Paynim, but eminently handsome, shaded by profuse coal-black locks, and lit up by lumi- nous dark eyes. Dark, handsome, and distinguished, ho did, indeed, look like the hero of a novel, or a brigand in a play. His years might have been forty, and there were threads of silver gleaming amid his elf-locks. "Pardon!" ho said in French, though not with a French accent, " for the intrusion, but I am a stranger hero. Can you tell me which of those two buildings on the hill yonder is Madam Moreau's pe?isionnat?'^ THE END OF THE FETE. 213 "Tlio one furthest off, monsioiir," replied Professor D'Arville, " tho other is the convent of the Iloly Cross." ** A thousand thanks, monsieur! Goodnight." Ho bowed again to Eve, threw on his sombrero, and walked leisurely away, humming tho fag-end of a Spa- ■ nisli ballad as he went. "A Spaniard," said Monsieur D'Arville, "ho looks like it. Some of madamo's Cuban friends, perhaps ; she lived there before she carao to St. Croix. But tlie night-air is chill and your dress is thin, mademoiselle — had I not better lead you in ?" ** Eve ! Eve ! Eve ! Ilazehvood !" a chorus of voices suddenly called before Eve could reply, and a wholo troop of demoiselles rushed down upon them. " Eve ! Eve ! where are you ?" "Here she is!" shouted Kate Schaffer. "I have found her ! I thought I would." And her black Canadian eyes, those laughing, ro- guish, dark eyes, whose praises her countrymen sing, looked wickedly from teacher to pupil. "Well," said Eve, with infinite composure, "and now that I am found, what do you want with me ?" ** Only this, the best of friends must part ; and we 214 THE END OF THE FETE. are ordered liome, or rather back to prison. You are the only missing lamb of the fold ; and detachments have been sent oat in every direction in search of you." " Oh yes !" said Hazel, joining in, " we thought somebody had run away with — out you ! Hurry now, or you'll get a lecture as long as to-day and to-morrow." The carriages were at the door, and i\w penswnnaircs shawled and hooded, being packed into tlicm by the de- voted young collegians. Louis Schallcr, his cousin Paul, and Monsieur D'Arville, stood near one as Eve came out the last, and it was Paul Schaffcr who advanced with extended hand, while Louis was chatting volubly with the girls already stowed within tlio vehicle, and the pro- fessor stood at a distance, looking quietly on. " We thought La Princcsse was lost ten minutes ago, and were all in a state of distraction. Louis, get out of the way, will you, and let me assist Mademoiselle Hazel- wood in." *'OfI she goes !" cried Louis, as Eve, scarcely touch- ing his cousin's hand, stepped lightly in, " the last, tiio brightest, the best ! Good night, Eve, and pleasant dreams — dream of mc !" "Adieu, mademoiselle," Paul Schaffer said, lifting THE END OF THE FETE. 215 her hand to his lips before the was aware, "I shall long remember this evening ! Adieu, and mi 7'evoir !" With an imperious gesture, the girl snatched her hand away, lier cliecks flushing scarlet. Anotlier gentle- man stepped up to the carriage-door and shut it. ** Good night. Miss lliizelwood," he said, in English. "Good night, )'oung ladies all." " Bon noir ! bon soir, monsieur P a chorus of voices called, and then the carriage rattled away, and thofvie was ended. The two young men, left alone in the moonlight, did not speak. Roving silently, they Avent their differ- ent ways, Professor D'Arvillc into the house to bid his hostess farewell, and Paul Schaffcr walked at a brisk pace toward the gate. Out in the road, he walked rapidly toward the village, and stopped at last before a lonely-looking little hut, at t!io outskirts of St. Croix. He paused a moment to look at it, and the one full ray of light streaming from its curtained window, and then rapped gently at the door. " This should be the place," he muttered to himself ; "and if the old witch knows anything about the girl, I shall And it out befoi'c I leave, or my name is not Paul Schaffcr." 216 A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. CHAPTER XIV. * A TEMPEST IN" A TEAPOT. RAINY afternoon in St. Croix — a dogged, detei'mined out-and-out rainy day, with a sky of lead above, and a soaking, steaming sod- den earth below. A dreary afternoon in St. Croix, dull at the best in the brightest sunshine, but doubly dull in wet Aveatlicr, when you miglit walk in mud from one extremity of the village to the other without meeting a living thing, except, perhaps, some draggled skulking dog, the outcast and Pariah of his tribe. A dismal afternoon in the pensioiinat des demoiselles ; its play- ground deserted, its day scholars gone home in the great covered carryall, kept by madame for such emergencies, and darkness anu dullness brooding over its empty Carres and long corridors. It was the hour of recess, too ; but the gloomy evening seemed to have imparted some of its gloom to Madame Moreau's pupils ; for in- stead of making day hideous with their uproar, accord- ing to custom, they had slouched off to tiieir rooms and gone to sleep, or in hidden corners were poring over novels, or, gathered in groups, were gapingly discussing : A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 217 the groat Schaffor f3te, not yet two days old. The babiei of the Fourth Division, too young in the blessed- ness of seven years to know the meaning of the -dreadful word ennui, were romping and screaming in their own dominions, and their noise, and that of two or three pianos in the music-room, were the only sounds that broke the solitude of the pensiomiat. In one of the deserted carris, perched up in the deep window-ledge at the furthest extremity, a pensionnaire sat looking out at tlie black and dismal prosjject. She was wrapped in a largo plaid shawl for the Avet day was bleak and raw; a book, "La tour de ma Ghamhre," lay in her lap ; but the dark, dreamy eyes were fixed on the lowering sky, and the rain plashing against the glasses, and the luxuriant black ringlets were pushed impatiently behind her ears and away from the beautiful face. The girl was thinking, something schoolgirls are not greatly given to do, and her meditations were broken suddenly, in a not very romantic manner. A pair of high-heeled boots came clattering down the staircase near her, and a shrill falsetto voice, singing at the top of a pair of powerful lungs : 10 218 A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. " *0 poor Robinson Crusoe I How could you go for to do so 1 Iley diddlc-diddle, tlie cat and the fiddle, O poor Robinson Crusoe 1 lie had a ui;ui Friday, To keep iiis bouse tidy.' Hallo ? Is this where yoii are perched up like some dis- mal old owl, or some what's-its-namo, a pillow-caso ia the wilderness '" This last did not belong to the canticle she was chanting, but was addressed by the singer to the pensive young lady in the window, who turned round leisurely at the interruption. "Is it you, Hazel ? What do you want ?'* " ' lie built bim a boat, Of the skin of a goat, And he christened it Robinson Crusoe.'" sang Hazel Wood, skipping up adroitly beside Eve ; "you oughl; to have been ^Mrs. Robinson Crusoe. You would have made a sweet pair of pokes, you would. What do I want? TIio pleasure of your charming so- ciety, my love. It's a little better than yawning myself to death upstairs." " I thought you were aaloop." I A TEMPEST m A TEAPOT. 2t9 "Never was wider awiike in my life I I was read- ing !" " Yoii reading ! I like that." " Ton my word I It was a novel, though, and one of Eugene Sue's at that !" " Hazel !" "There! don't faint! It Avasn't the 'Mysteries of Paris'— I never could wade through tluit. What's this ? Oh, 'A Journey Eound my Cliambcr !' I might have known it was something stupid and lugubrious! You ought to go and be a nun at once : you tire half one now " "Miss Wood, if you only came here to lecture me, I beg you will take your departure again as quickly as possible. I prefer my own thoughts to your abuse." "Well then' don't be cross, and I won't scold. I have come to ask a favor of you." "Yes, I might have known that ! Do your stock- ings want darning, or your handkerchiefs hemming, or has your pockctmouey run short, or what is the trouble now .'' "Nothing of that kind. It's the greatest favor you have ever rendered me in your life." Eve opened her eyes. 220 A TEMP ESI IN A TEAPOT. " The greatest ! What in the world can it be then ? Let us licar it." " Promise me first that you will grant it." ■ *' Promise before I know what it is ! No, I thank yon, Miss Wood !" " But, Eve ! I do want it so badly ! You won't refuse — there's a darling, will you ?" cried Ilazel, put- ting her arms round Eve's neck, and bribing her with kisses. " Hands off !" Eve laughed, disengaging herself, " 1 am above bribes ! Out with this wonderful favor of yours." *'Eve, if you don't grant it I will never speak to you." " Won't you ? I wonder which of us that would punish most ? But take heart, coz ; if it is nothing very terrible, I dare say I will grant it." ** But it is terrible ; at least, you will think it so.** "Ah!" said Eve, growing grave. "It is some of Monsieur Paul Schaffer's handiwork, then, I dare ?ay.** Hazel shifted uneasily beneath the truthful audjien- etrating dark eyes. " Yes, it is ! Eve, I wish you wouldn't be so preju- diced against Paul. What right have you to be ?** ■\ > A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 221 Evo sat silent, her lips compressed, her hands folded, her eyes fixed on the sullen rain. Hazel fidgeted, and looked uneasily at her cousin. " Eve." *'Well?" " Ho wants me to — to go to a ball with him. There 1 the murder's out !" " To go to a bull ? When, and where ?" " It is a military ball, in Montreal, and ihe time is, to-morrow night." " And do you imagine Madame Moreau will consent to any such thing ? " I don't intend to ask her. I want to go without her knowledge. I can do it, easily." " Indeed 1 How?" " Can't I dress in our room ? — my white muslin will do well enough — and get out by the rope-ladder. Paul will be waiting with a carriage. The cars will take us to the city, and fetch us back before five the next morn- ing. Eve faced su-i'denly round, with kindling eyes. " Hazel, did Paul Schaffer ask you to do this ?" "Have I not just told you so ?" uneasily and impa- tiently. &33 A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. "And you consented ?" " Yes !" said Hiizel, defiantly. ** And what of it ?" ''■ Only tluit Paul Sclialler is a villain, and you — Huzel I Ilazcl ! — have no respect for yourself at all." Hazel bounced indignantly down on the floor. **■ Eve Hazelwood, I'd thank you to mind what you are saying. Yes; he did ask me, and, what's more, ho has sent you an invitation to accompany mc. Now there !" Eve rose up, her eyes like black stars, her checks rosy flame. " And Paul Schaffer dared to send mc such an insult as that ?" " Oh, fiddlesticks ! Insult your grandmollier ! Y''ou'rc somebody groat — ain't you? — that you're not to be insulted." Eve stood silent, looking at her, more in sorrow than in anger ; and Hazol still kept shifting and fidgeting under tho;e earnest eyes. " Now, look hero. Cousin Eve, what I want to know is this : Will you kcej) my secret ? I can't get away without your knowing, or I wouldn't ask you. Kate Schaffcr is going, too ; so where will be the impropriety ? It is only a schoolgirl frolic, that no one would object to but an old granny like yourself 1" A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 233 u " Kiite Scluiffer may go if she pleases ; but you shall not." " Shall not ?" said ITazcl, her eyes beginning to flash ; " take care, Eve Ilazchvood !" "Shall not!" repeated Eve, resolutely, "not if I have to sit up all night to prevent you. Sooner than let you g(i, I will go to madame, and tell her all !" " Telltale !" hiiised Hazel, red with passion, and Evc'ri face turned crimson at the word. '• What do I care ? You shall not make me angly, Ilazrl, and you shall not disgrace youself. No, you shall not go, and some day you will thank me for it." Ilazel essayed to speak, but anger and disappoint- ment were too niucli for her, and she burst into a hys- terical passion of sobs. Eve's own eyes Qlled, and she put her arms round lier cousin, but that indignant young lady shook her violently off. "Let me alone, will you? you hateful, obstinate, sel- fish thing ! I hate you, Eve Ilazclwood, and I'll go in spite of you ! Tliere !" The class-bell rang laudly, but Hazel, sobbing and scolding, paid no attention to it. Eve lingered, looking at her. I 224 A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. " Hazel dear, tlou't bo angry. It ia becauso I lovo you I can't consent." " You don't love mo ! You lovo nobody but yonr- self ! You're just what Paul says, a cold-hearted, unfeeling thing ; but I'll go, if I dio for it 1 Mind that !" " You had better stop crying, and come down-stairs. The supper bell has rung " " liCt it ring!" said Ilazel, desperately; "I don't ■want any supper. Go and eat your own, it's all you care for." Now, really, this was a most unjust reproach ; for, to do Eve justice, lier palate was the least of her troub- les — which was very far from being Miss Wood's case. Eve smiled involuntarily as she heard it, and leavi)ig tlio carre without another word, descended to the salle d manger. "Hazel will thinlc bettor of it," she mused ; **I don't believe she will go without her tea." Eve was right. As soon as she was gone, Ilazel dried her eyes, and took her lacerated heart down-stairs, to seek consolation in the pale, lukewarm fluid, known in boarding-schools as tea, and its accompanying slices of transparent bread and butter. Fifteen minutes was - A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. the time allotted Tor devouring these duiiiLies. At the end of tliiit period, a signal was given to rise; grace was said by the ]n-esiding teaclior, and the ceremony was over. Silence being the austere law at nioalLimc, ten minutes was allowed the girls afterward to relieve their feelings before going np-stairs, and Babel broke loose the instant grace was ended. Just in the midst of a Avild uproar and confusion of tongues, the folding-doors of tlie salle d manner sjHit open, and in sailed Madame Moreau, followed by a gentleman. At sight of their commander-in-chief, the tumult ceased, and all eyes turned on her companion, a tall, dark, foreign-looking gentleman, bearded and mustached like a pard, and most exceedingly handsome. "Here are my little family, monsieur," laughed ma- dame,introducing him to the pensionnaires ,\v\\o returned his bow by a simultaneous schoolgirl obeisance. "You perceive they have just concluded their frugal repast.'' '•'Frugal," murmured Kate Schaffer, looking mourn- fully round the sloppy tea-table, "I should think so. We are safe from dyspepsia and the gout while we are under your charge, madame." The gentleman's dark eyes, wandering from face to face, rested on that of Eve, standing near a window, 9M A TEMPEST m A TEAPOT. from wliicli slio luul boon watching ilic I'iiiny twilight* IIo did not approaoli h(M-, liowevcr, but went up to Ilazcl, who stood nil alone, as sulky as a boar. ** One of your family appears to be in distress, ma- dame," he said. And Eve recognized at once the melo- dious foreign accented voice. "The world seems to have gone wrong with tiiis young lady ?" Hazel shrugged pettishly, and turned round with a sulky action, that said as plainly as words : "I wish )'ou would mind your own Ijusincss." "You have been crying, Miss Wood?'' questioned madamc, looking at her. "No, I haven't !" said Ilazel, as crossly as she dared — for I am sorry to say Miss Wood thought no more of small fibs at timt:^ than she did of rudeness — " there's nothing the matter with me." The stranger smiled, passed on, and camo to where Eve stood. "Ah," ho said, stopping, "hero is a familiar face. You and I have met before, mademoiselle." " Met before !" echoed madame, while all the teach- ers and pupils stared. " AYhy, where can Monsieur Men- dez have met Miss Hazelwood ?" " Madame, the other evening, walking along the road 51 I r- i'll M :i j tJ I %1i|i A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 227 out there, I saw u fairy, all in white and pink, standing at a gato in the moonlight, and I wont up, and asked to be directed to you." "It wa.s the night of the /c/e," Eve said, a little embarrassed to liiid all eyes fixed on her. *'I diiccted monsieur to the pcnsionnat." Here the stiuly-bcH rang, and madame and her com- panion bowing iheins(!lvc3 out, left the young ladies to go up- stairs, llerniine, the portress, was just openine; the front door in answer to an imperative ring as her mistress crossed the vestibule on her way to the parlor. The visitor was a little, spare, wiry man, who nodded to madame with easy indifference, but started back at sight of her companion as if he had seen a ghost. "Eh, what!" he cried, energetically, "it can't be 1 it can't be !"' And the sentence was llnished by a blank stare. " Monsieur evidently mistakes me for some one," said the gentleman, with a courteous smile and bow. "No, that never was his voice," said the little man, still staring; "beg your pardon, sir, but you look so much like some one I once knew, that at first I'll be hanged if I didn't think it was he." 228 A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. " Allow me to make you acquainted, gentlemen," interposed madamo, blandly ; " Monsieur, this is Doc- tor Lance, one of my professors, and the guardian of two of my pupils. Professor, my friend from Cuba, Senor Mcndez, who has kindly come to visit me in my Canadian home." "Happy to make your acquaintance, sir," grunted the professor. "Madame, I Avant to see my wards — I have a piece of news for them that I think will make them open their eyes." Madame led the way into the pai'lor, and rang the bell. "No bad news, I trust ?" she asked. " That's as may be. The fact is, I'm tired of them, and I think it high time tiiis other guardian, who is also their nearest living blood relation, should take charge of them. So I wrote to him. He was in Eng- land, as you know, and hero (producing a document) is his answer, telling mo to pack them both off by the next steamer to him." " Mon Dicu ! we shall be desolated at losing them. Babette," to the girl who answered the bell, "go tell Mademoiselles Wood and Hazelwood that their guardian is here and desires to see them immediately." EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 239 "Monsieur's wards are, then, the two young ladies I was speaking to ?" asivcd Senor Mcudez. " Yes, monsieur, and the tall and handsome one is the star pupil of my school. Ah ! how much we shall regret her ! But I hear them coming ; Monsieur Men- dcz, come tliis way, if you please. Monsieur Lance may desire to be alone with his wards." The preceptress and her Cuban friend passed out just as Eve and Uazcl, in a state of astonishment as to what Doctor Lance could possibly want at such a time, went in to hear the unexpected tidings. CHAPTER XV. eve's llltSr PROPOSAL. HE chamhrcs d coucher, as Madame Moreau*s young ladies styled what common people call their bedrooms, were situated on the third Hoov oi thopcn-^ionnaf. J and all along that third floor, one moonlight night, about a week after the rainy after- noon on wnich Eve and Ilazol quarreled, a long vow of lights twinkled. Li these apartments sacred to youih, beauty, inuocouce, and all that kind of thing, the whole 9 230 EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. troupe oi pcnslonnaires above tlie age of ten were gatli- cred, and great was the bustle, and chatting and confus- ion reigning within. Bustle and confusion, iufj f. ■ J been the order of tiie day. Tlie wliolo school w;is in a state of unprecedented excitement, thinking and talking of nothing but tlio two great events about to take place — the departure of Eve and Hazel for England, and ^[ad- danio Schaffer's grand farewell-party, given the night before their departure, in tlieir honor. Tiie misery of parting, Avhich had cost the young ladies copious showers of tears during the past melancholy week, was entirely lost sight of to-night. Tliey were all sorry, no doubt, but, poor caged starlings! we all know how sweet parties were in our boarding-school days. Oil, the Elysian dreams of the Eweet youths we were to dance with ; the delicious visions of ice-cream, jellies, boned turkey, aiul blanc mange, that floated before our mind's eyes ; aiul how utterly we forgot the existence of Lindley Murray, the rule of three, and the dismal to-morrow, in tlie whirl of the waltz and the glare of tlie gaslight.s. So the pcji- sionnnircs arrayed thcniselvis in all the purple aiul fine linen 'allowed at that bread-and-bnttcr-cating age, and giggled, and gossiped, and lost sight a]^c,_^'3thcr of tho heart-rending parting so close at, hand. J EVE'S FIRST rnOPOSAL. 281 In one of these rooms, all littered over with garments, books, lialf-packod trunks, and traveling-bags, two demoiselles were putting the finishing touches on their toilet. The one wlio stood before Llie glass, eyeing her- self complacently from tip to toe, liad lier small and very roundabout figure draped in a swelling amplitude of pink gauze, very low-necked, very short-sleeved, white and red roses looping up tJie full skirt, clasping the cor* sago, clasping the sleeves, and wreathed in and out the bright brown hair. But the red roses paled before the peony liuo of her clieeks. Hushed with excitement ; and the stars of Cancer, glittering in the June sky outside; were not brigliter nor starrier than the shining brown eyes. She liad just drenched a pocket-handkerchief in Jockey Club, filling the room with i)erfumc, and flirting out her gauzy skirts, she twirled round like a whirlwind, and settled suddenly down before her companion, in what children call "making a cheese," her pink dress ballooning out all around her. " Ma bo)iue cousinc! ma chcrc princesse, my darling Eve ! how do you like mc ?*' ' ' * ■ The young lady addressed stood at some distance," 7' drawing on lier gloves. At all times, in any dress, Evo Huzelwood must be beautiful, but she looked unusually 202 EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. invelv to-niglit. It might have been that her dress was lu • becoming ; amber crape, with trimmings of rich white hice and creamy roses ; her only ornament a slender gold chain and cross, and the glossy black cnrls falling in glittering darkness over her shoulders. If Hazel was flushed, Eve was pale — something unusal for her — and that and the pensive look her sweet face wore gave, perhaps the now charm to her fresh young beauty. She and Hazel had smoked the calumet of peace, though Miss "Wood had not gone to the bull, and Mr. Paul SchafEer had hoard tlie whole iiffaii', and formed his own opinion of Eve accordingly. Slio looked up now, and surveyed her cousin with a critical eye. "Yon look in good health, for yonr face is as red as your dress, but you smell ratlier strongly for my taste. Why do you use so much perfume ?" "Because I like to smell nice; and gentlemen are something like hounds — they follow the scent ! Doesn't my dress fit splendidly ?" "It's a great deal too tight. You'll burst out of your hooks and eyes before morning." "I'ldo nothing of the sort!'' indignantly. "Yon wouldn't have me go in a bag, I hope ! It fits like a worsted stocking on a man's nose 1" EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 388 " Now, TIazol, you kuow you broke tliree corset-laccs screwing yourself up before you could get it in ! You'll die of a rush of blood to the head, if you are not care- ful !" "I shouldn't wonder," said Hazel, in a subdued tone; "I feel as if there was an extra quantity of the fluid up there now. But Avhat is one to do ? I can't go looking like a hogshead round the Avaist, and I must lace up to be a decent figure. I don't sec why I can't be thin and genteel, like you ; it's dreadful to be so fat as I am!" " It's a harrowing case, certainly," said Eve, laugh- ing ; "and what's more, I am afraid there is no liclp for it. However, Paul Scliaffer doesn't mind — " "Dear, darling Paul!" burst out the gushing Miss "Wood, her eyes dancing fandangoes in her head. "0 Eve ! isn't ic good of him to come to England with us, all on my account. Nobody need say, after that, he doesn't care for me !" This fact was quite true. Monsieur Paul Schaffer had, to the surprise of everyone, announced his inten- tion of going over the Atlantic in the same steamer with Doctor Lance and his wards. Hazel's first sensation, on being told of her removal to auothez laud, had been cue 234 EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. of iutensest dismay. What will Panl say ? How couM I leave Paul ? had been her first distracted thought Paul settled the matter at once. "I liave been waiting to visit Old England this long time, petite," he said, coollj*, "and now is the time. I will go over with you, my darling, and sec what kind of place this ancestral home of you Hazelwoods is." And from that instant Hazel's earthly happiness was complete. "I don't see why you can't like him, Eve," she said, jietulantly ; "you have no right to be so prejudiced. If I lost him," Avitli a little passiouate gesture, "1 should die V' There was so much of desperate earnestness in poor Hazel's tones, that Eve was touched. She took the Ijurning cheeks between her cool hands, and bending down, kissed her. "My darling, I will try to like him for your sake, but he is not half good enough for you !" " I tell you he is ! He is good enough for — a prin- cess I" "Not for me !" laughed Eve. "I would not marrr him if he were to make me a queen 1 But all to their taste. Are you engaged ?" EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 235 *' No — yes — I don't know. He loves mo, and I him — that's enough." " Is it ? I know notliing ubont such things ; but it seems to mo ho shouki speak to our guardian." "What! to that old death's-head-and-cross-bones, Doctor Lance ? No, thank yuu. AVait till we go to England, and then I know he will ask our other guar- dian. Cousin Arthur. lie cannot be such an old suapping-tiirtle, surely, as this one." "Hazel, look here. Is he my cousin, too ?" "Why, of course he is ! Why shouldn't he be ?" "I don't know, but sometimes I think — Hazel, do you know I scarcely ever heard anything of my father and mother ?" " Why, they're buih dead and buried ages ago," said Hazel, drawing on her gloves. " What on earth did you Avant to hear aliout them ?'' '* Y"our mother never would speak of them. She used to put me off. And Doctor Lance, the only time I over summoned u[) courage enough to speak to him on the subject, told me to hold my tongue, and be thank- ful I ever had a father and mother at all, for it was more than I deservcLl." " And served j'ou right too," was Hazel's sympa- 986 EVK'S FIRST PliOPOSAL. tlietic answer, "drugging dead people out of their graves. There, I dcchiro they're calling us ! Where's my hood and shawl ? Are you ready ?" "Yes," said Eve, hastily donning her wraps ; " per- haps Babetto and Ilermine are to pack up for us, and liave our trunks ready when called for. Are thoy not?" "Yes, yes, come along, or all the rest will got into the carriages Ijeforo us and we will get our dresses aw- fully mussed up.'' . Eve cast one last long look beljind. " Good-bye, old room," she said ; "I have been very happy here — liappior, perhaps, than I will ever be in the laud where I am going. " Half a dozen carriages, not to speak of the I\ugo carryall belonging to the school, known to the girls as Noah's Ark, were drawn up before the door, and the ecstatic pensio7i7iaires crowded in, and in twenty min- utes were crowding out again in front of the Schaffer homestead. That building was one sheet of light from cellar to grenierj and the regimental band, perched up in the gallery of the ball-room, was in full blast at the eternal "Vive la Canadienne." *• Vive la Yankee-enne !" commenced Hazel Wood, EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 237 leaping out into the extended coatsleeves of her adored Paul. " "We're no Canadians, for which oli be joyful I" "Welcome, maj)ctile!" exclaimed Madame Schaifer, sweeping up, gorgeous to look at, in ruby satin, and emeralds, and kissing Ilazcl's two red cheeks, "and welcome my lovely Eve. But, Man Dieu! whore have your roses gone to, child ? You are as white as a spirit ! " "Hazel has them." Eve smiled as she ran up-stairs to her dressing-room. " Louis, don't pull the dress oflE my back ! Wluit do you want ?" " The first waltz, Evo ! We're parting — where is my pockethandkcrchief ? It may be for years, and it may bo forever, as Kathleen ^lavourneen remarks, and it's the least you can do. Say yes." "Yes, yes ; let me go ! Here comes Doctor Lance and Monsieur D'Arville 1 They will say we are flirt- ing. " They never made a greater mistake in their lives, then," said Louis, sauntering off, while Eve ran up-stairs after the rest. All was confusion and most admired disorder in the drawing-room, where every one was talking and laugh- 238 EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. ing at the tiptop of her lungs, and paying no attention to her neighbor. "Talk about Babel !" exclaimed Hazel, tripping past Eve, "after this tumult. Hurry up, Eve, if you don't want to bo deafened hn- life." Eve, consigning her wraps to a servant, shook out her floating skirts, glanced at her curls and at the briglit face the mirror reflected, and left the noisy scene. At the foot of the grand staircase she encountered Louis Schaffer. " Here you are at last !" cried that young gentleman, briskl}'. " What a shocking length of time it does tako you girls to settle your furbelows !" (Eve hud been gone about six minutes.) " Come along, our waltz will commence in a brace of shakes." ** Wliat length of time is a brace of shakes, Louis ?" laughed Eve as she his took arm and entered the bril- liantly-lighted and well-filled ballroom. "Xevcr you mind, it's that long. Oh my, what have we here ? " Quite a large circle were gathered near the center of the room, who, judging from their peals of laughter, were evidently enjoying themselves immensely. Among them, with an amused smile on his face, stood Professor EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 230 D'Arville, unci in tho center of the group stood Paul Sclmilcr, with Iltizol ;iud liulf a dozen of the wild pen- sionnaires iiround liim. "Eve, Eve, come here !" called Kate Schaffer, "and defend yourself, llazol Wood is telling tales out of school." "Relating dreadful legends of your goings on in New York, mademoiselle," said the young professor, turning his amused face to the young lady he addressed. "Are they all true ?" "Of course they arc," shrilly cried Hazel. "I never tell libs." " Except where the truth don't answer," put in Louis Scluilfer, sotto voce. " Mr. Schaffer, I'll thank you not to be impertinent ; you know nothing about it. Oh, wo used to have glor- ious times in the long vacations, and Eve, p; n as she looks, can't deny it. We used to promenade Broadway — clean, delightful, delicious Broadway — at all hours of tlie day and night, staring at the nice young men loaf- ing and picking their teeth on the hotel steps, disporting ourselves Sundays in the Park on two charming ponies Ave had and turning the heads of everything masculine we came across. Didn't we, Eve ?" 240 EVE'S FIliST PROPOSAL. "Do como jvway," HuiJ Evo to Louis, lior checks llusliiug, and fueling iinno)'C(l boyonil moasurc, slio Bciirccly knew why, at Jlazol's exaggerated expose. Por- luips because Paul Scliaffer was staring at her so offen- sively as ho caressed his nuistacho ; perhaps, because of that amused and queer sniilo on Monsieur D'Ar 'o's luindsoinc Ci-eolc face ; pcrliaps — but who car a girl's reasons wlien slie cannot even do it herself ? " Then there was Burnuni's Museum in tlie after- noon," Avcnt on the reckless Hazel, "where we used to go to the theater, and push, and pull, and crowd in with the rest of the female mob who frequent that palace of wonders. And oh ! such a fascinating young policeman that used to grab us by the shoulder and land us across, through a delirious maze of stages, cars, carts, coaches, and every other kind of vehicle under heaven, fi-om a wheelbarrow up. lie Avas my first, my last, my only love, that nice young policeman ; and I know Eve was in a worse state about him than I !" *' Louis, Louis, come away !" Evo repeated, every vein tingling with her intense mortification; but Louis was enjoying the fun amazingly, and held her fast. " And what's more," Hazel continued, lowering her Toice to a thrilling whisper, '* we used to go the Bowery EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 241 Theater. Our gentlemen wouldn't take us there, so wo paid the waiter-man in the house where wo boarded to escort us. Eve only went once, and after hard coaxing then ; but I went lots of times, and there never was such fun. Oh, my heart will certuiuly break after New York." " For pity sake, Louis, let mo go 1" Eve desperately cried, and Louis looking at her, saw her whole face flushed and her eyes full of tears of bitter humiliation. More keenly even than she felt for herself, she felt for Hazel, who, of an excited nature at all times seemed half out of herself to-niglit. ** What, you're never crying. Eve !" exclaimed Louis : and Professor D'Arville glanced at the beautiful morti- fied face through his half-closed eyes. " What a goose you are, to be sure ! Oh, here's our waltz. Off wo go, then." Very little the belle of the ball — for such, undeniably, Eve was — enjoyed that waltz. ** How he must despise me I" her pained heart kept crying bitterly all the time. "lie!" Ah that tell-tale little pronoun — even Eve, the iceberg, had come to it at last. Louis would have carried her ofi in search of ice 11 242 EVE'S FIRST PSOPOSAL. when the (lance was conduded, but Eve shook him off rather peremptorily, and started in search of her cousin, bent on reading her a lecture. In the cool recess of a deep window she found her seated, Hushed after the the waltz, fanning herself violently, and fortunately alone. Paul Schaffer had gone in search of a glass of ice-water for his hot little partner. Eve broke upon hei*, with scarlet checks and flashing eyes, and began the attack without preface. " Hazel, have y(ni gone mad ? "What did you mean by telling all those atrocious fables to that gaping crowd half an hour ago, and making us the laughing ^tock of the room ? If you have no respect for yourself, you might have a little consideration for me." " Eh ?" said ILizel, looking up in surprise. " What's all this about ? What's the matter with you ?" ** The matter !" said Eva, in a tone of suppressed passion. " You made a pretty show of yourself and mo to-night, did you not ?" " La ! I only told the truth !" " It was not the truth ; at least, you exaggerated most shamefully. What must those who heard you think ? Professor D'Arville will have a lino opinion of his pupils." EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 243 ''Ball! Who cares? Au old schoolmaster like him!" " He is not a schoolmaster !" " Positive, school ; comparative, schoolmaster ; su- perlative, professor ! It's worse ! Besides, we are not liis pupils any more ; we are going to ' Merrie England,' 'Enghind, my country — great and free, Heart of the worUJ, I leap to thee.' Professor D'Arville may go to grass I" "I have only one thing to say," exclaimed Eve, who, hcing only mortal' — i)oor thing! — like the rest of us, was intensely angry, '' that if I ever hear you tell- ing such abominable tales again, you and I will not be friends for the rest of our li"; s ! Kcmcml)or that." Paul Schaffer was comir.; up with tiie ico-wator, and Eve swept away, catching Flazel's shrill exclamation as she wont. " Why, Paul, here's Eve raging like a Bengal tiger because I said all that a while ago, and Professor D'Ar- ville heard it. Did you ever ?" In no mood at that moment for enjoyment, and hot almost as Hazel herself. Eve stepped through one of the 244 EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. large French windows, out on the lawn, for the drawing- room was on the ground-floor. Something else had annoyed her on the way. Kate Sclmffer was singing, like a nightingale, some charming Italian songs, and Professor D'Arvillc was standing by the piano, turning over her music with an entranced face, drinking in every note, with eyes and ears for her alone. Poor Eve I She had got into a most uniiappy state of mind that night, aiid everything was going wrong. Kate Sehaffer was a handsome girl, an heiress, and the daughter of the house, no doubt ; but why need Professor D'Arville be blind to all the rest of the world because of that ? The weird white summer moon, sailing serenely up in the blue-black concave of heaven, with her myriad of stars keeping court about her, looked down on the flushed cheek and troubled breast of the young girl, leaning against the pine-tree, as it has looked on many another young girl in similar trouble. Eve saw nothing of the solemn beauty of the night. Slie was thinking that to- morrow she left Canada forever, and })erhaps the first news she would hear, in far-off England, would bo the marriage of Monsieur D'Arville and Kate Schaffer. There was no earthly reason why such an event should disturb her, but it did disturb her signally ; and, just as EVE' a FIRST PROPOSAL. 845 she was brooding drearily over it, two gentlemen came up the path to tlie house, smoking cigars and talking. EvG recognized them, and drew back into the shadow of the trees. One was her guardian. Doctor Lance, the other. Monsieur Schaffer, Senior. " And so," Monsieur Schaffer was saying, " D'Arville has really accepted this situation." " D'Arville has really accepted the situation of sec- retary to Mr. Arthur Ilazelwooil, and goes to England in the same steamer witi' me," Doctor Lance replied. "I had no idea he woulu ^w-n I spoke to him about it — told him Ilazelwood hud written to nu; to find uB'I fetch him a competent secretary — tlie man himself always was abominably lazy from a boy. I epoko to D'Arville, to see if he knew any one in Montreal who would suit. Ilis answer was — "'Yes.' " • Who is he ?' I asked. " * Myself,' was his reply. " Of course, I jumped at the offer — saved mo trouble, you see. The salary is a good one, the situation easy ; but D'Arville is a fool, for all that. The young man has talent, and I never before thought ho wanted ambition." The two passed in, and Eve came out from the 246 EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. shadow with an altered face and an altered heart. Aa she did so, a step sounded bcliind her ; a tall figure was by her side in the moonlight, and Paul Schaffer's dark eyes were upon her face. Something in that look startled Eve. She turned to go, but ho detained her. "Why do you always fly when I come near?" he asked. " Am I so very hateful to you ?" Eve was naturally straightforward and truthful in the extreme. She merely closed her lips by way of answer, and .stood looking straight before her. Paul SchalTer lowered his voice, his eyes, and his tall head. " I have been seurching for you the iiast lifteeu minutes. I have something very particular to say." Eve's heart-, beat faster, and for one instant she glanced hurridlly around, as if to fly. "No, nol You must not go! Miss Ilazclwood — Eve — you leave Canada to-morrow. I must speak to you to-night !" "I must go into the liou.sc !" Eve said, in a violent tremor. "I shall bo mi.v«o(l I" She turned to go, but no caught her, and (he words she dreaded to hear woiv spoken. With a sharp cry» she broke from him, uud stood, with parted lips and panting heart, looking at liim with dilated eyes. EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 247 " I love you, Evo !'' lie still cried. " May I hope ?" The eyes that looked iit him were full of horror, aud her hiinds flew up and covered her face. " Hazel ! Hazel ! Hazel !" was her bitter cry. " I do not care for her ! I never did ! I care only for you ! Eve, listen to me — " But Eve was gone. Back into the house she sought refuge in a remote and closely-curtained window, and crouched down, feeling as if her whole life had changed within the hour, as if the earth were reeling under her feet, and youth, and innocence, and happy girlhood gono like a di'eain. Yes, Eve, the hapjjv days of careless youth have gone forever ; womanhood with its deeper joys and sorrows opens before you, and the Book of Life has turned over on a new page. 248 UAZELWOOD UALL. CHAPTER XVI. HAZELWOOD HALL. lEU No. — was crowded. Throngs of people were pouring to it in one steady stream ; carts, carriages, and vehicles of all sorts rat- tled over the stony city-streets, and deposited their in- side freight of travelers, and their outside freight of baggage on the thronged pier, blazing under a scorching July sun. " Everybody" was supposed to have left New York, but New York looked tolerably full yet, judging from the number in this particular spot, coming to see their friends off for England, or from idle curiosity. The steamer's deck was thronged, too ; in fact, every available portion for the steamer, excepting tlie smokepipe, was thronged, and great and mighty was the uproar thereof. Among tlie many groups, a little knotof foui ixrsons stood — two ladies and two gentlemen. Place aux dame*! The ladies were very young, mere girls in their teens, and one very pretty. It was the tall one with the coquettish turban that set so jauntily on her black curls. nAZELWOOD HALL. 249 the scarlet tip of its black plume not brighter than the living scarlet on chock and lip, her tightly-fitting bhick basquine showing oil to perfection a superb figure, litlio and slender as a young willow, and the morning sunlight floated back from a pair of luminous dark eyes, of un- fathomable depth and brightness. She leaned lightly against the railing, the breeze fluttering her gray dress, the black lace vail she held in her gloved hand, waving like a black banner the jetty curls, and deepening the roses in her cheeks, as she gazed at the crowd before her and talked with her companion. It was the other young lady, a jolly little damsel, plump and dcbonnairc, whose laughing face was all aglow with excitement, and who.se tongue ran in a pcrptual flow of tittle-tattle. For the gentlemen : one was a dark, elderly sharjj-looki ng, and wore spec- tacles; the other young, eminently handsome, and languidly indifferent to the vulgar uproar about him. Of course j'ou recognize tlicm — Eve, Hazel, Doctor Lance, and Professor D'Arville — professor no longer, but simply Monsieur Claude D'Arville, Secretary to the Honorable Arthur Hazclwood, of Hazclwood, County of Essex, England. And they are fairly off on their journey at last. . 11* 250 IIAZKLWOOD UALL. h Antl Hazel's cliattering tonguo was running on in- cessantly. "Eve, look there !" How killingly tliat gontlcmau stepping from the hack is got up ! Why, my goodness ! I declare if it's not Don Signor Monsieur Mustache Whiskcrando himself !" Eve looked, knowing very well who Hazel meant, and saw a foreign-looking and most distinguished gen- tleman alight from a hack, his cloak over his slioulder, rn spite of the heat of that hroiling July niorning, and his sombrero pulled over liis eyes. Tlie memory of a moonlight niglit, of a Canadian village, and a stranger slipping up to the gate over which slio leaned, flashed back on Eve's mind. "It's Mister Mendcz, I vow!" Hazel was crying. "It can't be possible, you know that he — " Hazel stopped suddenly. Among the surging sea of human beings, ebbing and flowingh on the i>ier, another form had canglit her eyes, that of a young man, who approached Senor Mendez, passed his arm throng his, and "'alked witli him on board. Eve saw him at the same time, and lier brows contracted in spito of Hazel's joyful little cry : "0 Eve! there is Paul I" HAZEL wo OB UALL. 251 " I sec him ! " Eve said in a vexed tone, "and they are coniini;" here ! " She tlirew tlio vail she held, over her hat to hide her flushed and annoyed face. Slic had not seen Paul Schalfer since that memorable niglit at his aunt's : and the sccDc under the pine-tree came back, and its hateful memory burned like fire in her face. Some one touched her lightly on tlie shoulder, and D'Arvillc's dark eyes were i)iercing through the vail, " Hero arc two of your friends, mademoiselle. Ah I I perceive you have seen them !" Ilis tone and smile annoyed her intensely, but the two new-comers had forced their way along the deck and stood l)eEore them, hat in hand. Very coldly, very slightly, Miss Ilazelwood acknowl- edged Mr. SchafEer's salute, choosing to ignore alto- gether the hiind he extended, but Talleyrand himself never was more completely and utterly nonchalant than he. n the waters of licthe had been a reality, and he had drunk out the memory of this last interview, Paul Schaffer could not have been one whit more at his ease. If Eve's greeting lacked warmth, Hazel's made up for it : she pushed her hand through Paul's arm, as one having the right ; and bore him off, while the Cuban 252 HAZEL WOOD HALL. prince attached himself to Doctor Lance and D'Arville. So Eve stood quite alone, listening to the storm of good- byes on every hand, and watching the receding shore as they steamed away on their outward-bound course, to the parting cheer from the land, and then a mist came over the bright, dark eyes. "Good-bye to America ! my native land," her heart cried. " I have been very happy there — how will it bo with me in the laud to which I go ?" There was no prophetic voice in Eve's soul to answer the question. The merciful vail that shrouds the future no earthly eyes might pierce ; and Eve stopped in her musings to listen to a girlish voice near, singing, clear and sweet, Childe Harold's farewell to England : "Adieu, adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue, The niglit winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild scamew I Yon sun that sets upon tlie sea We follow in his flight, Farewell, awhilo, to him and thee — My native land, good-night !" " Not good night, the Lord be thanked ! " said a broad voice, cutting in, " for it's just breakfast- time 1" ' ( UAZELWOOD HALL. 2S8 There was a genonil laugh and a rusli for tlio cabin. D'Arville smilingly offered his arm to Eve, and scuti- incut was presently lost siglit of in sandwiclics ; and coffee and beefsteaks took the place of tears and parting regrets. " Will you be sea-sick, mademoiselle ?" Scnor Men- dez asked Eve. They were all sitting up on deck again, the land nearly out of sight, and Eve was between the Creole and D'Arville. "I don't know," she said, laughing. "That re- mains to be seen yet. This you know, is my first voy- age. Shall you ? " " Oh no ! I am an old sailor, and I was never was sick in my life." "You are fortunate," said D'Arville. "As for me, I expect to take my stateroom in an hour, and be obliged to keep it until we reach Southampton." "My case exactly," growled Doctor Lance. "Among all wise proverbs, ' Praise the sea but keep on land' is the wisest. And to think I mus. endure it all for a couple of wretched girls — " The crabbed little doctor's voice died away, pianissi- mo, in a succession of growls ; and Hazels who sat next to 2o4 IIAZEfAVOOD HALL. him, ro3c abrnp|-,ly, -with ;i very white and miserable face. " I— I til ink I'll go bt'luw ! I ilon'fc feel—'' "No, I should think you didn't," said Paul, trying to kei'p grave, but laughing in spite of himself, as nazol's voice died luvay. " Allow mc to lead you down stairs." Eve followed, and for the rest of the day was kept busy enough wailing on Ifazcl, who wa-^ wretchedly sick, and amid her groans', and throes, and tears, pro- tested she must die. All niglit it was the same — ])oor Ilazers state was deplorable ; and the odor of cooking which would pene- trate into the stateroom aggravated her symptoms be- yond expression. It was late on the second day of the voyage beforo Eve could leave her and go on deck to catch a mouthful of fresh air. Fortunately for her, she had escaped the mal-dc-mcr completely ; and, beyond being fagged out waiting on her sick and cross little cousin, felt as well as when she had started. WofuUy thin the deck looked to what it had done at starting; very few ladies were there, and among the gentlemen only one face was familiar. lie was leaning ii.\zi:lwood hall. 255 over the s'ulo walcliing the moon ri.sc, red and round out of the sen, like some licry Venus, and sniokin,:^ a ci,L,'ar, but lie threw it overl)<)ard and started u]) at sight of l-]ve. " A thousand welcomes, inailenioiscllo ! I am liap- jiior than happy to find you able, to come u[) oneo more.'' "Oh, I have not been ,sick, monsieur," Eve said, laughing, and answering in French as 8onc>" Mendez had set tlie example. '* I have only been sie.'.-uurse. !My poor cousin is half dead !" "I regret to liear it ! Here, sit down and let us see if tills fresh breeze will not blow your roses back. Tliey have wilted altogether in that steaming and suffocating cabin." "Where arc all the rest?" Evo asked, taking the proffered stool. "In the same predicament as your cousin — all at death's door, ]\Ie^siours Lance, D'Arville, and Sehaffers and Robinson Crusoe, in his desert island, never was lonelier than I ! Providence, mademoiselle, must have sent you directly to my relief ; for I was falling into despair, and meditating a leap overboard and into the other world, as you came up." "And out of the frying-pan into the fire I" 256 HAZELWOOD HALL. " Quien sahe?^' said the Creole, shrugging his shoul- ders, "wo must only hope for the best! Look at that moouriso, mademoiselle — I have heard you wcro an artist." "Who told you so?" " Monsieur D'Arvillc — ho is a great friend of yours." Eve's face flushed. " lie was my tcaclier — at least, he would have been, had we not loft Canada. I wisli I were an artist." "I wish you were ; you might immortalize yourself to-night. Do you caro for the sea ?" " Caro is not the word, monsieur — I love it." "Ah ! then wc can sympathize. I have spent half the last fifteen years roving over land and sea. One of those rolling stones that gather no moss." " Then Madame Rumor tells fibs. She says Senor Mendcz is a prince in his own land." "Why, yes," said the Creole, coolly. " I believe my estates in Cuba arc rather princely than otherwise ; but I don't allude to that. I have no home, and no home- ties : a crusty old bachelor, who goeth whithersoever he listeth, with no kindly voice to bid him God-speed at his departure or welcome on his return." They were both silent, he looking straight before HAZEL WOOD HALL. 257 him at the red moonrisc, and tlie girl watching, under her eyelashes, the bronzed, handsome face, and the silver threads gleaming in and out the raven hi ir. " Monsieur has been a great traveler, then ?" she said at length, in a subdued tone. " Over the world, mademoiselle, from Dan to Beershcl)a. I have ridden camels in Egypt, smoked cigars under the walls of Jerusalem, slept in skins in an Esquimaux hut, and been grilled alive in the jungles of India and the forests of Africa. As for Europe — I think there is not a village in the whole continent I have not done, and found the whole thing an insuffer- able bore." "And you have Ijecn— but why need I ask — ot course, you have been in England ?" " Yes, r^jiuomoiocUe ; I have explored that island — I have even beheld Hazel wood Ilall." ** Indeed !" Eve ^ried, vividly interested. "I should like to hear about that. It is long ago ?" "Some five years. It is a fine old place, or would be in the haiuhs of any other man than the Honorable Ar- thur Ilazelwood. But pardon — he is your relative ?" " I icnow nothing about him ; I never saw him in my life. Is he a manvais sujct, then F" 258 II A ZEL WO OD HA LL. " He is — but I shall tell you nothing about him — you must read him for your.sclf. I fear you Avill find your new liome rather lonely — the owner of llazchvood Hall receives no visitors, and never goes out." "A recluse, is he ! Did you sec Miss Forest ?" "The pale lady with tlic light hair, who keeps house for him? Oh j-es, I t-aw her; she never goes out cither — they grow old there, like potatoes in a cellar." "And the place around — what is it ? — a town, a vil- lage, a wilderness — or what ?" "A village, very pretty, very picturesque. They call it Monkswood." "And Jlazelwood Ilall is the place of the place ?" " By no means. It is eclipsed altogether by another ])laco, some seven miles off, far older, far grander, and far more revered. Its name is Blaekmonks — Black- monks Priory — audits own(>r is Lord Landsdownc." "Oh! and the village has taken its name from the priory V" "Exactly. Long ago, when Mary Avas queen in England, this priory of Blaekmonks was founded there, under her i)atronage. When Elizabeth came into power, the monks were sent adrift, and Baron Liindsdowne, a UAZELWOOD HALL. J59 sturdy old warrior, whose portrait still adorns the grand entrance-hall, took this place. It has been in the pos- session of the Landsdowncs ever since, and is likely to be while the race lasts." "Is the present Lord Landsdowne resident at the priory ?» "Not when I was tlicro — he was on the continent with his lady. lie must iiavo Ijcen a fine fellow, for he was idolized in the place. I think you would like Bhickmonks ; it is quite magnificent in its ancient grandeur, I assure you. ILizclwood dwindles into no- thing beside it." " And Mr. Ilazelwood is not liked in Monkswood ?'' " Wliy, tlio fact is, mademoiselle, lie is looked upon as a good deal of a stranger, and considerable of an intruder. lie is a Yanlcce, too— 1 l)eg your pardon," seeing her flush hotly; "and, in short, there is no love lost between them. Perhaps it may be different now — I will liud out when I go there." " Arc 3'ou going there ? " " Yes ; I have business in Essex. Well, sir, what do you want ?" This last Avas addressed to one of the cabin-waiters who a])proached them. The man wanted Miss llazci- 260 UAZELWOOD HALL. wood — tlio sick yonng Itidy in No. 35 had sent him in search of her ; and Evo had to go. Tliat evening's conversation Avas but the beginning of many. Senor Mondez was cheering — ho beguiled the long hours for her with wonderful stories of his adven- tures in India, Africa, China, and tlio Holy Land — Eve thought the Thousand and One were nothing to him. Then, too, after the first Avock, D'Arville was able to come up, a little wan and spectral at first, after his sickness — but Eve blushed frankly at seeing him, and held out her hand witli a shy grace, that might have bewitched old Diogenes himself. Very pleasant to !Mis3 Evangeline Ilazelwood was the voyage after that ; at least, the hours spent on deck ; for Hazel kept sick still, and was cross and querulous, and monopolized Evo half the time. And Eve, being good- natured and kind-hearted, and very fond of the impa- tient little invalid, read to her, and sang to her, and retailed Senor Mcndez's stories, and brought daily little messes to tempt the fiagging appetite. Doctor Lance, being as poor a sailor as his elder ward, was invisible also ; and thougli Paul SchalTor made his appearance on deck. Eve was very little troubled with him. Once, finding her alone, he had attempted to accost her with HAZELWOOD HALL. 261 his customary cool nonchalance, but La Princessc had drawn back and up, with eyes that flashed black flames, and had swept past him in such superb, silent scorn, that even he never attempted it again. Eve had not seen the ominous smile with which he looked after her, nor heard his half-muttered words : "My bird of Paradise sails high, but I think I will clip her glittering wings before long. La Princesse reigns it right royally, but I think I will humble her pride before she is many weeks older. Be as scornful as you like, my dear Eve — smile as sweetly as you please on Monsieur D'Arville — we will change your tune when you are Madame Schaffer ; for Madame Schaffer you will be, in spite of earth and all it contains !" From that time until the and of the voyage Monsieur Schaffer never attempted to address Eve when alone ; but when others were with her, and she could not, with- out exciting remark, liclp answering him, he was ever near, in spite of brightly angry glances, forcing answers from her reluctant lips. When they entered the railway-carriage, at Southamp- ton, it was ho who handed her in, leaving Miss Uazel, who had a sick and sea-green look, still to the care of D'Arville. lie sat beside her, too, all the way ; for he 262 HAZELWOOD HALL. was going to Essex first ; he might as well trarcl with company while ho could, he said ; and his proiimity spoiled the Journey for the young lady. D'Arville devoted himself to Hazel, who looked worried and jealous ; and Doctor Lance was cniiionnat was a king to this ! Here wc arc in the blessed snnshine again, Dicu merci!" They had readied the grand entrance-hull, where the old butler bowed and left them, shocked out of a year's growth. " I wonder when we are to bo admitted to the throne of the Grand Mogul, Hazel," laughed Eve; "he is as mysterious as Mokanna himself I" " Who was ^lokanna ? I don't care about the Grand Mogul ; but I do wish Paul would come up to-day ! Do you suppose ho will ?'' *' I don't know ; and with due reverence to you — don't care." "Oh, of course not! but if Senor Mendez was in question, perhaps you might. Paul says, the way you flirted with that gay and festive old scamp on shipboard was shameful !" Eve's eyes began to flash. " Hazel ? did Paul Schailcr dare to say that ?» "Dare! Oh, you have not done acting the r<5?e of La Princcsse yet, I see ! Tell your old beau. Eve, to dye his hair before ho proposes; it's getting frosty, rather ! There, you needn't fire up now ; Pm not m TWO OLD FRIENDS. going to fight this morning, because you're the only living Christian I've got to talk to, unci bud company is better tlitui none ! I wish Monsieur D'Arville would come back, if the Grand Mogul hasn't had him be- headed." *' Quand un parle du — be careful what you say, mademoiselle !" said D'Arille himself, sauntering in, "Iconic from the Grand Mogul witli his Serenity's orders for you two young ladies to appear at once before him! lam to lead you to the presence-chamber; so come." Ilis dark eyes were laughing while he spoke^ though his face was serious, and he offered an arm to each, to lead them forth. "Is it going to be very terrible ?" Eve asked, as they went up-stairs. "Very 1 Summon all your moral courage, and I will wait at the door. If j^ou faint, give mo notice before- hand, and I will fly to your aid." " Well, I'm pretty curious," said Hazel, " but I ain't scared to speak of ! Is this the place ? Wait for us outside, monsieur." Monsieur bowed and rapped. The door was opened at once by a natty little valet — French, you could see at TWO OLD FRIENDS. 271 a glance. Monsieur D'Arvillo rctroatctl, the yonng ladies advanced, tlie vtilet closed the door and vanished, and they were in the presence of the Grand Mogul ! Stretched at full length on a lounge, and half buried in its downy pillows, lay an iinmeusely-stout gentleman, smoking a meerschaum pipe. He wore a dressing-gown, and botli his f^'ct were swat IkmI in rolls of ilannel — Mr. llazfl'.vood was suffering from the g(jut. A dumb- waiter, with the remnants of an ei)icureari breakfast littered over it, stood near him ; and lying there, ho looked the very picture of sensuous, selfish, indolent comfort. His room was the most elegant in the house ; its pale-green walls lined with exipiisile pictures. Nothing remained of the Arthur Hazelwood of other days but his selllshness, his indolence, and a remnant of his artist tastes. He turned his eyes listlessly toward them, and held out one langnid hand. "Ah! you've come, have you? How d'ye do? Hai)])y to see you both ! Find seats and sit down." Tije young ladies did so. Eve's sense of the ludi- crous was too strong to permit her to look at Hazel, lest she sliuiihl laugli outright at this enthusiastic greeting, but she felt that Hazel's face was a picture to see, as she stared at the pulpy figure prostrate before her. 273 TWO OLD FUnc^DS. Ah I" s;ii(l ^Ir, JLizelwooJ. clnuvliiiG: out his words, and sinokinsf away, idiich of you is liLllo Ila/ol Yon, I presume V" ^Xo, ■sir, ;iid Eve, to whom this was adih'cssed. " this is IlazL'l— I im Eve " Ah ! and a very pretty Eve you arc — very pretty, indeed I The other Avas stolen, wasn't she ? " Do you mean uiy tu'iu sister, sir ?" said E\e, to a V les whom some part of her own story was familiar I believe she was stolen when an infant, and never found since. "Ah! very droll — very. And you are little TIazel, eh? iS"ot very largo yet, either — and plump as a part- ric.ffo. "There's a pair of us, sir," retorted Hazel, pertly, nettled at this last insinuation, which was touching her feelings in a very tender ])oint. "Eh?" in(|nired ^h\ llazelwood, feebly staring; "well, 1 hope you'll enjoy yourselves here, and all that sort of thinsf. Una will be back l)v-and-bv, and (hen it V will be pleasanter for you. Jerome The dapper valet appi'arcd as suddenly as if ho had risen from the earth, and stood making ffcnuilectious o to"- before the lord of llazelwood Hall. TWO OLD FRIENDS. 978 "Show those young hidics out c'lnd fetch me some brandy and Avatcr, hot. AIi ! good morning !" Monsieur Jerome, smiling blandly, turned them both out of doors, and the interview was at an end. D'Ar- vilk, looking out of a window at the lower end of the hall, advanced to meet them. "Well," ho inquired, "and how do you like the Grand Mogul, mesdemoisellcs ?" "Don't ask me — don't!" cried ILizel, her lips com- pressed, her eyes flashing. " I feel as though I should burst! Is it Bluebeard? Is it Henry the Eighth? What sm wc started till we landed I didn't wisb migljt be oor last, if only for spite to see Ibe way you acted: and I used to pray fervently the steamer might ran iat«> a rock or a mermaid, or something, and pilch bead first to Davy Jones, and so end it all !" Miss Forest's light-blue eyes and smiling face were turned on the spirited speaker of this reckless avo'sral, studying her as she bad been studying Eve. "You have not changed, T see, my dear; tbi-' Hazel of three yi i - lives yet in the Ilazrl of eigbti-eia. Aa>i now, where is Dr. Lance ? Is be with Mr. Hazelw-xxl 'f* *'Uo has gone back," said Eve. *• lie went W the express last night to Tiondon, and starts in tliv next steamer for New York." "A flying visit I I sliould like to have seen bim. Have you been through tlie house ?" *' Ob yes," said Hazel, " we've been through it. and, except the prison up in Sing Sing, that they took me to see once, I never went through a more gbotily pldce. Isn't it full of ghosts ?" TWO OLD FRIENDS. 877 Miss Forest's eyes and smile were on Hazel agiiin. Eve looked nearly as shocked as the old butler had done, and D'Arvillo intensely amused. ' I really don't know. I never saw any." " Well, it must be full of rats anyhow, and they're as bad, if not wor.se. They'd no more keep such an old rat-trap as this standing in Xew York — Eve ! here is Paul and Scnor Mendcz I I declare if they're not." Hiizel sped off down stairs in an ecstasy. Eve looked out of the window, and saw the two gentlemen in ques- tion just going up the steps leading to the front door. " Erieuds of yours ?" Miss Forest inquired, looking in calm surprise on Eve. *' I did not know you had any in the village." " Wo knew them in Canada," Eve answered, coloring suddenly, and the two looking at her wondered inwardly for which of them the blush was for. " I suppose I must go down." *' Of course, and I must go and see about my house- hold affairs. I came here direetlv,, on arriving. Fare- well — Innoheon-hour is at two ; at six we dine." She bowed in her easy, graceful way and left them. Eve, her face still hot, spoke to D'Arvillo without looking at him. 278 TWO OLD FRIENDS. *' Are you Goining down, monsieur ? Tlicy will want to see you." " Do you tliiuk so ?'' lie said meaningly. " Of course. Come !" "She led the way down-stairs without waiting, and D'Arvillo followed her. In the grand and gloomy draw- ing-room they found Hazel chatting away like a magpie to the gentlemen. She was painting their portraits in vivid colors, and her auditors wore laughing faces, but both turned eagerly to the door when Eve entered. She gave her hand frankly and cordially to Senor Meudcz, but she first touched Mr. Schaffor's extended digit, as if it had been red-hot, and dropped it again. "You see wo have found our way to Ilazelwood Hall," Schaffcr said. "Aiiue old place, but nothing to Black Monk's Priory. Senor Mendez and I were over there this morning." " That's great praise, to say it's nicer than this," said Hazel, contemptuously. " It's another old vault, I sup])oso. Oh, give me a brown stone front on Fifth avenue, and you have my idea of heaven on earth at once." " You shall have it at once," said Mr. Schailcr, in a voice audible only to her, " when you and I go back to i TWO OLD FlilENDS. 279 New York to;^cthcr. You ouglit to see it, Mi.-.-: Hazel- wood," raising liis tone. ''Hazel might not fancy it, but I am sure you would." " She saw Lady Landsdowne last night, and fancied licr excessively. Did you not, Miss Eve ?" asked Senor Mendoz. *' I told you I thought her a most beautiful woman, and," rather mischievously, "I think she ullccted your- self, senor, even more than I, for you turned as white as that marble bust up there at sight of her !" " Was it at sight of her ?" said Senor Mendez, coolly. "I thought I told you it was a spasm." "Oh yes, yoil told me tliat, of course; but I know you Avatehed the carriage out of sight, and inquired very particularly about her from the lodge-keeper. Is the Priory shoAvn to visitors ?" " Not when the family are at home, as now," said Mr. Schall'er. " I was disappointed in my hopes of going through it to-day, and I hope the family may make tlicir exodus soon, for my benefit. We saAV the grounds, though, and the exterior of the mansion, and very magnificent both are. What is more, we saw Lord Landsdowne, though I should have preferred seeing his lady." 230 TWO OLD FRIENDS. " And is bo as lovely to look at us slio seems to bo ?" iuquired ILizel. " No, bo is not wbat you girls would call bandsomo ; bo is tall and stately, gontlemanly, and ratber distin- guisbcd looking, grave and niiddlo-agcd." ''Grave!'' said tlic Cuban. "I sbould say sol His face is tbat of a man's wbose life bas been a great mistake." "Do you judge from faces?" asked D'Arville, speaking for tbc first time. " If so, I sbould like you to see tbe mistress of tliis establisbment, and read me her cbaracter. I bave been puzzling over it over since I saw ber." " Is sbe a study, then ?" " Is sbo pretty — tbat's tbe question ?" interrupted Paul Scliaffer. " A pretty Avoraan never can bo very disagreeable." ' Senor Mcndez looked at tbo last speaker, and so queer a smile, so bitter, so cynical, and so scornfnl, came over bis face, tbat a new liglit dawned on Eve's mind. It broke on D'Arville's, too, and be spoke : "Senor i\rcndoz bas lost faitb in tbo sex ; but it is not fair to judge all by one. Miss Forest is no common "woman, and not to be judged by common rules. Sbe TWO OLD FlilENDS. 2S1 is pretty, too, but it is a stnuigc typu of prettiucss — im- familiiir to me." " Tlio more charming, tlion, I should thiul<," said Paul Schallcr. " Pi'cnez (jarih do toinbov, Monsieur D'Arvillo !" Monsieur D'Arville's lips curled at the insinuation, and just then tliero was a tap at the door. D'Arville opened it, sujjpdsing it to he a servant, and was taken rather aljaek to liiid himself confronted by tlie fair, still face, and soft, gray dress, of ^liss Forest herself. Ho stejjped back, holding the door open for her to euter, but she declined. " Do not let me disturb you ! Mr. Ilazelwood desired me to tell you to go to him directly after luncii- eon, and lundieuu \vaits now.'' She was gone again. D'Arville closed the door and looked at the rest. "Is that the Marble Bride turned Quakeress?" asked V.Y. Schatfer. " Jler voice is like the music of the splu'i\!S, though I can't .'^ay I ever heard that melody." " I take it u})on myself to say that is Miss Forest,'' said Senor Mender. "And something out of the common — do you not think so ?" inquired D'Arville. tu J^. ^•■^ ^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 5? ^ // ^/ .^ %^4k 1.0 I.I |2.5 2.2 1^ 1.8 — 6" L25 i_U ii^ V] /^ ^i. e^,-..^ ;v V Photographic Sdences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716)872-4503 ^"'^^ /^o y 989 TWO OLD FRIENDS. " Docidecl.7, or she would have invited us to lunch- eon," said the Creole gentleman, rising ; "but as she has not, we make our exit. Miss Eve, Miss Hazel, you should go down and see Monkswood, it is worth the journey, I assure you." " Wo will," said Eve, " and perhaps this afternoon Eh, Hazel ?" "All right," said Hazel. " I was bound to go any way ; and, what's more, I am going to call at the Priory too. Will you gentlemen chaperone us — we might go astray in this barbarous land." The gentlemen asseverated that they would only be too happy and blessed to do so, and took their departure, and the trio sought the dining-room. Miss Forest was waiting there, before a table glittering with silver and cut-glass, and took her jilace at the head at once. " I have grown so accustomed to being alone on these occasions," she said, smilingly, " that I fear I have half-forgotten how to preside. Mr. Hazel wood so rarely leaves his room, and wc never see company, so I live like a female Robinson Crusoe. Let mo help you to some of this pigeon-pie, Mr. P'Arville." "You are worse off than Robinson Crusoe was," put in pert Hazel, "for he had a man — Friday." TWO OLD FRIENDS. 288 Miss Forest only noticed this speech by a cold stare, and went on carving the pie. It was not a very com- fortable meal ; for the solemn old butler hovered in the background, glaring upon them all in awful silence, and Miss Forest was so very ceremonious and stately, that it completely took away even Hazel's appetite. ** I declare. Eve, I'm starving !" she burst out when it was safely over at last, and they were alone, D'Arville having gone to Mr. Ilazelwood's apartments. " I'll bo skin and bone shortly, if this state of things continues. I hate that Una Forest ! There 1" '* Hazel, hush!" "I won't hush ; and you don't like her yourself, only you're too great a liypocrito to say so. I wonder if there is such a thing as an oyster-saloon in Monkswood ?" " Oyster-saloon ! — rubbish ! Do you think you are back in New York ?" " Oh, don't I wish I only was ! But there must be a cookshop, or a baker's establishment, or something or other tliere, to keep people from starving. I'm going to see, anyway. Will you come ?" " Of course — anything for a quiet life. Wait till I get my hat." Arm in arm the two girls strolled down the avenue 284 TWO OLD F HI END 3. to the gates, and passed out into the highroad. Pretty green hmcs branched off from this road right and left ; and, passing one. Eve slopped suddenly, holding Uazel back. That young lady, following her cousin's glance, saw nothing more startling than a group of three pei*- sons standing under the shadow of some ash-trees, talking — one, a man ; the other two, females. The man had his back toward them, but his height and form were too familiar to bo mistaken. The woman nearest him was old, bent, and faced them ; but tlie hood of her crimson cloak partly concealed her face. The third leaned against a tree, sliadowed by its long arms, so that only her floating skirts and gipsy-hat were visible. "What is Paul Schaffer up to now?" asked Eve. "And Hazel, isn't that the old fortune-teller we saw at Madame Schafler's the night of the fete ?" "Nonsense ! How could she get to England ? It looks like her, though — don't it ? That's Paul for cer- tain ; and who can. the third one be ? I think it's a young girl." " I am certain that is the same old woman. There I Bhc sees us and is gone I" The old woman had cauglit sight of them, and she and her female companion disappeared among the trees. TWO OLD FRIENDS. The man turned round and advanced. Paul Scliaffer it certainly was, and as much at his ease as ever. " " "What !" was his greeting. •" You too here ! Well, this is an unexpected pleasure." Hazel looked at him with jealous eyes. " Is it a pleasure, sir ? Who were those two women you had with you there ?" "Oh, you saw them, did you ? Gipsies, of course, didn't you see their red cloaks ? there's an encampment of them in the woods, and I was having my fortune told." Eve says it's the old woman we saw at Madame Schaffcr's fete — the fortune-teller, you know." Mr. SchalTer burst into a laugh. **I beg your pardon !" he said to Eve. "But that is rather too droll a notion. She is quite as old and quite as ugly, I agree, but all tho old beldames look alike. " *' Were they both old women, Paul ?" Hazel asked, taking his arm, and qi.ite reassured. *' Of course ! Come, Scnor Mendez is waiting some- whore, and wo are going to take you both to see Black Monks. Oh, here he comes with tho fly ; and now, my dear Hazel, you will see something that will eclipse the 286 EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. whole Fifth avenue, with Madison square thrown in 1 There is not a finer place in EngUvnd, they tell me, than Black Monk's Priory, CHAPTER XVIII. EVES SECOND PROPOSAL. OTJ had better not go — it will certainly rain." " Rain ! Oh, nonsense, Miss Forest, there is not a cloud iu the sky. It is as clear ana blue as — as your eyes." Miss Forest smiled slightly, and bowed her acknowl- edgment to the speaker, Mr. Paul Schaffer. They were standing togetlier in the open hall door, with the August sunshine glowing upon them, and watching the scene on the lawn. Two young ladies, in riding-habits, were being assisted into their saddles, by two gentlemen, whoso horses were held by a groom. Eve and Hazel, of course ; the former waited on by Senor Mendcz, the latter by D'Arville. Mr. Schaffcr's own horse stood near, too, but ho EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 287 seemed in no hurry, as ho stood whipping his boot, and talking to Una Forest. Somehow they had managed to become very good fricds, these two, during the hist few weeks. " Miss Hazel Wood is looking her best, this after- noon,' ^I^. Schaffer said, watching her under his eye- brows as she gathered up the reins. " Eve is a prelty girl," Miss Forest answered, quietly, "and pretty girls generally look their prettiest on horseback." " So Sonor Mondez seems to think, by his devotion. Is the Spanish grandee trying to cut out the Canadian schoolmaster ?" " And is Mr. Paul Schaffer jealous ?" " Bah ! You know I am done for ! Yonder dumpy little darling is my fate, of course." " Of course ! You may as well be content with tlie goods the gods have furnished you, for Eve's case is settled." " You think so ?" ** 1 know so. I am a woman, Mr. Schaffer, and she loves Monsieur D'Arville." "Are you telling mo that by way of news, Miss Forest ? I have known it those two months, and 288 EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. what's more, she is not the only lady who worships at the same slirinc !" "You don't mean TTazcl ?" Mr. Schaffor laughed and pulled his mustar^he. " Oh no ! I don't mean Hazel. I flatter myself that small person has no other idol but your humble servant. No, Miss Forest, I don't mean Hazel Wood. Do you understand ?" Their eyes met. Yes, she understood and turned away. Mr. Sohaffer bent his head and lowered his voice. "This time comes to all of us sooner or later, they say ; and I believe it ; and like the measles and whoop- ing-cough, the later in life we take it the more severe it is apt to be. Miss Forest, you and I understand each other, I think." "Mr. Schaffer, you had better go and ride. They arc waiting for you." "Let them wait! Miss Forest, will you be my friend, as I am willing to be yours ?" v "I don't understand you, Mr. Schaffer !" " Oh yes, you do ! Claude D'Arville is a handsome fellow, I know, though I am not a woman, and he loves EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. Evo Hazelwood ; but for all that ho will never marry her !" " You are raving ! If she cares for him, what is to prevent it ?" "The fates and Paul Schaffcr ! Of course you know my secret as I do yours !" **Long ago ; and so dc.s D'Arville." ** And so does she, and my wife she will be in spito of her teeth 1" " How ? Are you going to carry her off to some Canadian castle, in the old knight-errant style ? This is the year of graoo eighteen hundred and sixty, remember !" "Very well, she vnll marry mo for all that, and I shall not carry her off. If you will promise to aid ma, Miss Forest, for your own sake, you shall know my plans. I cannot work alone, and I know you havo no lov€ for your cousin." "My cousin," Miss Forest said, with a strange smile. "Oh, I know all about that too ; and she is your cousin. There, they are off — for the present, farewell. This evening you shall know all, and the play will begin." 18 EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. "Take care of the storm !" Una cried after him, as he cantered down the avenue. But a careless laugh was his only answer as ho joined Hazel and D'Arville, who rode last. Hazel was inclined to pout. ** Were you making love to Miss Forest, jiray," she demanded, "that you stayed so long ?" Una, by the way was always Miss Forest to the girls ; they would as soon have thought of calling Queen Victoria by her Christian name, had they chanced to meet her, as the stately and cold little Albino. " No, my dear ! She was merely wai'ning me about the weather." " Why, what ails the weather ?" " Nothing that I can see. Miss Forest, though, it seems has had private information from the clerk of the ■weather, that it is going to rain." "And wo will have a thunder-storm before long !" said D'Arville, whose eyes had been dreamily fixed on the graceful figure of the lady before him hitherto, lifting them now to the sky. " Look at that cloud 1" "Oh, it will blow over! Don't predict evil! Sor- row's soon enough when it comes." EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. i»t ** I Avondor wliiifc Sonor Montloz is saying to Eve," cxcliiimcd Ilazol. " How devoted ho looks, and liow he bends down to catch every word ! What shines these old fellows do take to girls, now and then !" " Senor Moiidcz is not old," said Mr. Schaffer bland- ly, glancing sideways at D'Arville, whose brows were contracting. "lie is a fine-looking man, and. in the prime of life. "When do you suppose Miss Eve will go to live in her custle in Spain, TLizel ?" "Shortly, I should tliink, for it is a mutual strike." " Indeed ! has slie told you so ?" ** Oh, la ! no ! Catch Eve talking about such a thing, but I know the symptoms, you see," said Hazel gravely, "and — goodness me I how dark it's getting !" "We are in for a wetting! Miss Forest was right after all !" said D'Arville. " Listen to that !" It was a sharp and sudden peal of tliunder, preceded by a vivid Hash of lightning, and great drops of rain. The whole face of tlic sky had blackened with astonish- ing rapidity, and the storm was upon them in its fury. Worst of all, they had been riding fast, and had left the village behind them, and were out now on a lonely couu- try-road, with no house in siglit. Hazel gave a little screech of dismay. 209 EVE'S SECOND PliOPOSAL. *' Good gracious, Piuil ! wlmtcvcr will wo do 1 It is going to pour down straight, and I've got my now hat onl" But ono stop 'rom tho sublime to the ridiculous ; but it was only liumun nature — a girl's flrst idea in a tempest is about her hat ! Before Paul could offer consolation, there was another deafening th.under-clap, another sheet of flame, a rush of rain, another wild shriek from Hazel, and aery from D'Arvillo. The horses of the pair before them had taken fright, at least the gentleman's had, and was flying off like mad ; and the lady's, startled by the proceeding, was dashing off at full speed after it. It was quite evident Eve had lost all management of her steed, only a half-tamed thing at best. "She will be thrown ! she will bo killed 1 " shouted Paul Schaffer excitedly, " and Mendez cannot help her. Great Heavens ! she is down !" It was true ; the frightened animal had thrown her, and was away like tho wind. D'Arville, his face per- fectly white with horror, dashed tho spurs into his horse, and in five seconds after had vaulted off and lifted the prostrate form in his arms with a passionate cry. EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 203 "Evo, my darling ! My darling, are you killed ?" No ; or if she was, his words had ra..^,; power to charm her back to life, for the dark oycR slowiy opened and looked up in his face with her whole heart in their depths. In a rapture he bent over her, reading it all. •* Thank God ! Oh, thank Ood, she lives still ! My darling, are you hurt ?" Her face was perfectly colorless, and there was blood upon it, but she forced a smile and made an effort to rise. But he held her fast, though the otlior two were riding up. " Evo, they are here — one word before they come. You know I love you !" Yes, she knew it. One little hand still in his, one other glance from the dark eyes, and h^, was a happy man. The other two were beside them with faces of consternation, and the rain was coming down in torrents. "Oh, Eve ! are you much hurt ?" was Htzcl's shrill cry, forgetting all about her new hat. " Set me up, please, and I will see," Eve said, faintly, smiling up in D'Arville's face. "My head struck something ; but I think, on tlie whole, I was more frightened than hurt." She stood up as she spoke, very pale, and with the 994 EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. blood flowing from tlio cut iu tlie forehead, but with no broke a bones. " Thank Heaven, it is so well !" exclaimed D'Arville ; *' but Eve, what are we to do with you ? It won't mend matters to stand in this downpour." " Eve !" Paul SchafTcr's keen glance flashed from one to the other, and road tlie whole story. It was the first time Claude D'Arville had ever called her other thau Miss Hazel wood. " There is a house over there," said Hazel, pointing. *'Let Eve take your horse. Monsieur D'Arville, and we will be under cover in no time." "An excellent idea. Miss Eve, let me assist you to mount." "But you," Eve Iiesitated, "you will be exposed to all this rai?) " " It is of no consequence about me. I won't melt. Here, up with you." Eve mounted his horse and bent down to him as she gathered up the reih "You will hurry after us," she said, anxiously. And his answer was the light that so vividly lit up his dark, handsome face. "Yes, I will hurry. Off with you now." EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 295 They dashed off, leaving liim to follow on foot, and in five minutes were at the house. It was a sort of way- pide inn, and held other storm-bound wayfarers it seemed ; .for a gentleman stood in the open doorway, watching the storm. He drew back as the young ladies, with uplifted skirts, skimmed past him into the parlor, and Eve thought of Paul Schaffer's description of the lord of Black Monk's — " grave and middle-aged, tall and stately, gentlemanly and rather distinguished- looking" — and made up her mind that this was Lord Landsdownc. The parlor was tenanted, too. In a leath- ern easy-chair in the chimney-corner a lady sat — a lady richly dressed in silk and velvet, with diamonds flashing on her white hands, whoso hauglity and handsome face Eve had seen before. It was Lady Landsdowne. Evo remembered the proud, cold facp ^ramed in golden brown hair, that had looked from the carriage-window that first evening, in Monkswood village. She was dressed in walking costume now ; her bine velvet mantle falling off her sloping slioulders, the dainty bonnet, a snow-flake, sprinkled with azure, still on her head. She had been looking into the fire, her brow contj'acted in an impatient entered, and the first elance frown when they the first glance had been careless and 998 EVE' 8 SECOND PROPOSAL. supercilious enough. But that glance changed, fixed, grew wild and amazed, and tlie bright blue eye dilated on Eve as if she had been a ghost. There had been a Btifled cry, too, and a half bound from her chair, but she sank back as the eyes of the trio turned on her in wonder. Her face, her very lips had turned ashen white, and her blue eyes still were riveted on Eve's face, with a look none present could comprehend. What was there in that beautiful face to inspire that look of fear, of affright, of positive horror ? Paul Schaffer made a step toward lier. "Madam, you are ill — you are — " The sound of his voice was magical. She started to her feet at once. "Yes," she said, sharply; "you have startled me. I cannot bear the sight of blood ! What is the matLer with that young lady ?" " She has had a fall from her horse and has cut her forehead. I regret that our entrance should have so disturbed you." The lady's only reply to Mr. Schaffer's civil speech was to gather up her mantle and sweep past him to the door with a stormy rustling of silk. There the gentle- man in waiting met her with an inquiring face. EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 297 " Has the carriage not come yet, my loi'd ?" she demanded, in the same sharp tone. " Oh, isn't she a Satan !" Hazel whispered to Eve. " Not yet," the gentleman answered. ** It will be here presently, though." "I want to go," said the lady, still more sharply. "I don't choose to sit in a room crowded with people. Wlio are those persons who have just entered ?" "Civil, that — upon my word !" exclaimed Hazel, whistling, while Eve's eyes flashed. "My dear," they heard the gentleman say, in a low tone, "they are most respectable. They are the Hazelwoods. You had better wait — " " I don't choose to wait any longer," the lady, almost passionately, cried. " I shall go if I have to walk, sooner than sit amongst such a crowd. Go and see if the people who keep this place have no sort of conveyance at all that will take us home ?" " Here is the carriage, at last !" exclaimed the gentle- man, in a tone of intense relief. And as he spoke, a handsome carriage, drawn by handsome horses, and with the arms of the Landsdowne family upon the panel, drew up before the door. Bight after it, came cantering 18* 298 EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. a rider at a furious pace. It was Senor Mendez, in a state of intense excitement and anxiety about Eve. He had seen tlie horses at the door, and sprang from his saddle at once, and strode past Lord and Lady Lands- downe into the parlor. "Eve — Miss Ilazelwood — are you hurt? There is blood on your face !" "It is nothing — only a scratch," Eve answered. "Are you sure you are quite safe yourself? It was a second edition of Mazeppa or John Gilpin — I hardly know which." " Oh, I am safe enough, only completely blown, and frightened out of my wits about yci. I knew you were here when I saw the horses.'- He took off his hat as he spoke, to fan himself, revealing his face for the first time to the pair without. As he did so, there Avas a wild shriek from the lady, a sudden reel fcrward, and a something fell to the floor like a log. The cry was echoed by the gentleman, and all rushed out. Lady Landsdowne had fainted, and was lying on the floor like one dead. " The lady has fainted," said Souor Mendez, coolly, "Can we be of any assistance to your lordship ?" "None, thank you. John, open the door." EYE' a SECOND PRO POP A L. 209 John, the coachman, obeyed, and Lord Landsdowne carried my lady in liis arms, got her in with Jolin's help, followed, and gave the order to drive homo. Our party stood in the doorway until the carriage was out of sight. " Is my lady mad, I wonder ?" asked Paul Schaffer. **What made her faint?" "And what made her scream and stare at Eve so when we came in ?*' asked Hazel. " She must want a square of being sound, or she would never cut up so." " What does Eve think ?" Senor Mendez asked, looking at her with an inexplicable smile. But Eve did not answer. Slie was watching a figure coming through the slanting rain, with a look at once tender and anxious in her eyes. " Here comes Monsieur D'Arville," cried out Hazel, "looking like a drowned rat ! Look at Eve's face. One would think she was ready to cry from sympathy." " Do you sec ?" Seignor Mendez said, looking signifi- cantly at Paul Schaffer, and that young gentleman smiled superciliously. " I see Miss Eve wears her heart on her sleeve, for daws to peck at, and that it is D'Arville's turn to-day — mine may come to-morrow 1" 800 A MOONLiani INTERVIEW, CHAPTER XIX. A. MOON^LIGHT miERVIEW. JONG lances of moonlight streaming through the vast window, uiinglod with the light of two wax candles, and fell on the pale face of Eve Hazelwood, as she sat in an easy-chair, having her wounded forehead bound with long strips of court- plaster. On two pale faces, for Una Forest was the surgeon, and her blue eyes were full of tender solicitude, as they rested on the colorless face of her j>atient. ** How pale you look, my dear !" her soft voice was pityingly saying. " I am sure your poor bruised fore- head must be very painful." Eve laughed good-naturedly. *' Oh no. It is not very painful ; it only feels a little stiff and sore. Don't I look shocking with all this plaster ? Why could not I have bruised my arm or my head instead of my face, I wonder ?" " My love, you have reason to be thankful it was not your neck you broke ! What would Monsieur D'Arville kave done then ?" A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 801 Eve blushed, as only sixteen years ever does, at the allusion. What a happy ride it had been for her, in spite of her cut face ! "And that reminds mo," Miss Forest placidly went on, noting the telltale blush, " that you had better keep your room this evening, if you don't want to disenchant him. Of course, our Eve must bo pretty at all times, but I can assure her she is a great deal prettier without strips of court-plaster." Eve glanced at herself in the mix'ror, and fully con- curred in the opinion. "It's too bad, but I suppose there is no help for it ; My head foels a little dizzy and confused, too ; and I think, on the whole, the best thing I can do is, to go to bed." ** Exactly, my dear ! Yoy will feel all right to-mor- row morning, and your roses will have returned in full bloom. Now I shall fetch you some tea and toast and see you safely tucked in bed. Hazel must not disturb you to-night — she will make you ill and feverish with her own tittle-tattle, and must keep her room." "How kind she is, after all !" thought Eve, as the little Albino tripped away, "and how Hazel and I have misjudged her ! I feel as if I could go down into the 802 A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. valley of humiliation, and be*^ her pardon on my knees for rash judgment. Oh, what a night it is ! and how happy I am ! I wonder what ho is doing down stairs I I wonder if he will miss me this evening !" Alone as she was, she felt her face glowing, and cov- ered it with her hands, with a little laugh at her silli- ness. A soft rustling of silk made her look up. Miss Forest was there again, cfUTymg a tray herself, laden with tea and toast, and marmahide. "Now, my dear, take something before you retire, itv/ill make you feel all the better to-morrow." ** How good you are, Miss Forest !" Eve cried out in the fullness of her heart, to take all this trouble for me !" Una Forest ! little white hypocrite ! had you ever in all your life been guilty of a blush, it should have been then ! But the pale blue eyes only shifted away under the grateful glance of the luminous black ones, and the little fair bauds twisted in and out among the plates. ** Don't mention it, my dear; it is nothing ! Why do you not eat ? You taste nothing." " I am not hungry, thank you I I want nothing but the tea. And now I think I will lie down, and sleep away this dizzy head." A MOONLTOnT INTERVIEW. 303 " And I will take iiway those candles, lest they should tempt you to sit up and read ; and I will lock your door to keep that little tomboy, Hazel, from breaking in," said Miss Forest, laughing and nodding. "And now, my love, good night and pleasant dreams to you !" She kissed her as she spoke — the little female Judas — and left the room, putting the key in her pocket. She glanced back at it from the bead of tlie stair? with a cold, glittering evil smile. "They may be pleasant to-night, pretty Eve," she said softly, " but they will hardly be so sweet to-morrow night. You shall never bo D'Arville's bride until my brain loses its power to plot, and my right hand its cun- ning to work." She clenched the little digit fiercely as she spoke, and went down-stairs to the parlor. Hazel and D'Arville wore there: the former jingling away at the piano ; the latter holding a book, but seeing only a pair of black eyes, a shower of black curls and a very young face, fresh and sunshiny as Hebe's own, looking up at him from every page. Hazel stopped clattering the "Wedding March," whirled round on her stool and faced Una. " Where's Eve ?" 804 A MOONLIQUT INTERVIEW. " In her room." i " Ain't she coming down ?" "Not to night, sho siiya. She lias court-plaster on her foreheiid, and feels liglit-headed after her fall, so has gone to bod. I locked you out for the night." " Locked mo out !" shrilly cried Hazel. ** What is that for ?" **She thinks sho will feel better alone, I suppose. All I know is, you are to keep your own room to- night." " The hateful mean thing ! I'll go and sleep in the attic with one of the maids, before I roost alone in there among all the ghosta and rats, and other vermin. Eve's nothing but a nasty selfish thing 1" "My dear, if you're really afraid," said Miss Forest, blandly, "you can share my chamber for this one night." " Oh," said Hazel, wilting down suddenly at the proposed cure, which was worse than the disease, " I guess I sha'n't mind it so much, after all. If Eve and the rest of you can face the ghosts alone, I dare say I can, too ! Well, what's the matter now ?" For Miss Forest, putting her hand in her pocket suddenly, uttered a sharp exclamation of alarm. A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 803 D'Arvillo lifted an inquiring face from his book. " I hiivo lost my piirso, and it contained money to a largo amount ! I had it when I was out in the grounds this afternoon. I must have dropped it there." D'Arvillo rose up. " The night is clear as day ; permit me to go out and search for it, Miss Forest." Miss Forest hesitated. "It is so much trouble." " It is no trouble at all. In what part of the grounds were you ?" " Oh, in several places ; but I think I may have drop- ped it near the old well, at the ash-trees. You know the place ? I remember palling my handkerchief out there to throw over my head, and may have pulled the purse out with it." "What kind of purse was it ?" "A portemounaio of gold and ebony. It was a gift from a dear friend ; and, independent of the money it contained, very valuable to mo on that account. Hazel and I will go with you and help in the search." The three started. All traces of the thunder-storm liad disappeared, and the fall moon rode in a cloudless sky, studded with countless stars. 306 A MOOmJOIIT INTERVIEW. As D'Arvillo luul siiid, it was clear us day, and tho old house looked quiiiut and picturesque in tho silvery rays. "What a lovely night," Una exclaimed. "Who says it is all fog in England ? Your blue Canadian skies were never brighter than that, Monsieur D'Arvillo !" "The night is glorious, and old England a very pleasant place, Miss Forest. Ilazelvvood looks charming by moonlight." " And Eve's gone to bed !" sententiously put in Hazel, following his glance. "Her room is all in the dark. That's a bran-new idea of hers ; for of late she has taken to sit at the window and stargaze. I believe the girl's in love !" "And who is the happy man, petite f^ smilingly inquired Una. " Oh, a friend of ours ; either Scnor Mendez, Mr Schaffer, or Monsieur D'Arvillo here. And," said Hazel, with an innocent face, "I really don't know which." The dark Canadian face of D'Arville lit up with its rare smile. "Mademoiselle, I thought Mr. Schaffer was your property ?" A MOONLIOHT INTERVIEW. Wf ** Well, that's the very reason why Eve might want him too. One girl always does want what another possesses, and tries to cut her out. I know I should myself !" " A very amiable trait in young ladies' characters. But hero we are at the ash-trees, and now lor Miss Forest's purse." But though they wandered up and down, and here and there, and in and out among the ash-trees, no glittering speck of gold and ebony flushed back the moonlight from the grass. "Wo had better go over to the old well," said Una, anxiously; "it is just possible I may have dropped ifc tliere, and it is quite certain it is not here." The "old well'' was some half-dozen yards off — a lonesome spot, shaded by gloomy ash-trees, where few ever went. The three turned thoir steps in that direc- tion — steps that awoke no echo on the velvet sward — when Hazel suddenly stopped and raised a warning finger. "Hush !" she whisiiered ; "listen to that !" " It is voices," said D'Arville, lowering his own. "Some one is at the old well before us, and may have found your purse." 808 A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. " Let us see who they are," said Una. ** We can do it without being seen ourselves. I don't want to lose the purse, if I can help it. And — " She stopped short, and laid her hand over Hazel's mouth, to stifle the cry that was breaking fi'om her at the sight they beheld. In the clear moonlight, under the old oak-trees, two figures stood distinctly revealed. There was no mistaking their indentity. The tall young man was Paul Sclwiffcr ; the girl, wrapped in a large shawl familiar to all three, with strips of white plaster on her forehead, was Eve Hazelwood. Yes, Eve Hazel- wood. There was no mistaking that beautiful face, that shower of shining hair, those lustrous black eyes, uplif- ted to the man's face. Together these two stood as only lovers stand, his arm encircling her waist, his head bent down until his own dark locks mingled with hers. They were talking, too, as only lovers talk ; and as they moved away very slowly in an opposite direction, the listening trio distinctly caught every word. It was Paul Schaffcr's laughing voice they hoard first. "And so the poor little Canadian schoolmaster has actually como to it at last, and you have Avon your bet. What a wicked little thing you are. Eve !" "And I am going to write to Kate to-morrow," said A MOONLIGHT INTERVrEW. 809 the voice of Eve — that sweet and silvery voice. " It was the night of the fSte—y'on remember, Paul— that she and I made that memorable bet that I would not have the flinty professor at my feet before the end of three months. Kate thought him like Acliilles, invincible, but I knew better, and to-day he came to it at last." "Your fall was not so unlucky, then, after all," ho laughed, and Eve joined in. " What would you say, Paul, if I told you the fall was more than half planned ? He was so tiresome and so long coming to the point, tliat some ruso was neces- sary, and that was the only one I could think of. It answered the purpose admirably. Oh, you should have heard him !" " You pretty little sinner 1 And what do you sup- pose I am going to say to such goings or.. Mistress Eve ?" "Nothing at all, of course 1 You know I care for nobody in the world but you, Paul. And I have not half done yet, for I mean to number Senor Meudez among my list of killed and wounded before I am satisfied." "Now, Eve!" "Now, Paul 1"— with pretty tvillfulness— "I must, I 310 A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. tell you ! My repntation as a beauty is at stake, and I feel in duty bound to humble the old grandee ! Oh, what a splendid night it is ! And they think I am sleeping tlie sleep of the just up in my room ! My poor bruised forehead" — laughing gayly — " was a flue excuse to steal out and meet you." " Eve, what did you say to D'Arville ?" "Jfothing at all. Do you think I am so poor a diplomat ? But actions and looks, you know, some- times speak louder than words. Oh, he has his answer, and is a happy man !" " Poor fellow ! Eve, you ought to have a littlo mercy !" "Bah! you lecture, indeed! Why have you no mercy on Hazel ? You do nothing but make love to her from morning till night, and pay no attention to me. » *'My dear Eve, you mistake. She makes love to me ! As to not noticing you, is it not some of your provoking diplomacy ? I give you fair warning, I won't stand it much longer !" The girl clasped his arm with botii hands and looked up in his face with laughing, loving eyes. "You dear cross, good-natured Paul ! It won't be A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 311 necessary for yoii to stuiid it much longer. Once I have conquered Monsieur Mustache "Wliiskerando, us Hazel calls him, I'll be good and obedient, and let you have your own way in everything. You know well enough I care for nobody but you. Do I not run risk enough in meeting you like this ?'' There was a caress and an answer breathed so low that they could not catch it ; and then the lovers turned into a side-path and disuppcarad. But both faces, as they turned, were for a second full toward them, with the bright moonlight shining full on them ; and every vestige of doubt, if such a thing could still linger, van- ished. Beautiful, treacherous, deceitful, it was indeed the face of Eve Ilazelwood — all her black curls Jutter- ing in the night-wind ; and that other, bending over her, was Paul Schailcr, Hazel's false lover. Then tliey were gone, and only the cold mocking moonlight remained where they had stood. I A spell seemed to have boinul the three lookers-on to the spot. Tlieir evanishmcnt broke it. There was a sound, something between a cry and a hysterical sob from poor Hazel, as she grasped D'Arville's arm. "0 Monsieur D'Arville, it is Paul and Eve !" He had been standing as motionless as if changed to 8t3 A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. Stone, his eyes never moving from the pair before him while they had remained. Now ho turned to the poor little speaker, his face like white marble, but with pity in his deep dark eyes for her. "Yes, poor child ! I have long known that this must como to you some day ; but I never thought of its com- ing in this manner. Wc have both been deceived. Hazel — 1 far more than you." " Can I believe my eyes ? I feel as if I were dream- ing ! I always thought she disliked Mr. Schaffer," said Una Forest, with a bewildered look. A smile, cold and bitter, and mocking, broke over D'Arville's face. " Did you not hear the reason ? It was the young lady's diplomacy — she wished to win her bets and make more conquests. I have known this long time Mr. Schaffer was one of her admirers ; but I was so well de- ceived by the fair diplomat that I imagined the love was all on his side. Miss Wood, get up — you had better go back to the house." Poor Miss Wood ! She had sunk down on the wet grass, sobbing hysterically, sobbing as a little child does, who has lost a precious toy. D'Arville raised her gently and drew her hand within his arm, and Hazel let herself A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 813 be drawn away, weeping still, but ** passive to all changes." "You had better let her stay with you to-night. Miss Forest," he said, ** and try and comfort her ! Her dream has been broken rudely and bitterly enough." ** I shall do my best," TJna said ; " but good heavens ! who could have imagined this was Eve Hazelvvood ! I thought her simple as a child — pure as a saint." "My mistake, exactly !" D'Arville said, with the same cold smile : " I have often heard how fair an out- side falsehood hath — I never fully realized it before." "I shall inform Mr. Hazelwood to-morrow," said Miss Forest, firmly ; " it is my duty to put a stop to such shameful doings. Miss Eve will find she must turn over a new leaf for the future." D'Arville said nothing — his heart was far too sore and bitter for mere words. "When they entered the house and stood in the upper hall, on the way to their apartments, he stopped at his door and held out his hand to Una. " Good night. Miss Forest," he said ; "let mo thank you now for all the kindness you have shown me since I liave been in this house. Be good to this poor little girl, and try and comfort her, if you can." 14 8U A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. He was gone, and his door was shut. Una stood looking at it with a puzzled face. " What does he mean — thanking me now, and with that look ! He cannot mean to go — Oh, pshaw I of course not ! come along, Hazel !" She drew Hazel along to her room — poor Hazel, who did nothing but cry, and began early preparing for bed. "Don't be a baby," was her consolatory address, " wipe your eyes and go to bed ! Let Mr. Schaffer go — he was only fooling you all the time, and everybody saw it but yourself !" ** Oh, I wish I was dead — I do !" was Hazel's wicked but natural cry, her passionate sobs only increasing for their comfort. " Oh, I wish I had never been born !'' There was another in a room near, who, thougli ho shed, no tears, uttered no cry, was perhnps wishing the same in the bitterness of his heart. He was on his knees, not in prayer, alas ! but packing his trunk, hus- tling everything in in a heap, as men do. It did not take long — the trunk was packed, locked, strapped, so was his portmanteau, and then he sat down at the table to write. It was a letter, and a short one. "Sir: — Pardon my hasty departure, but circum- Btances render it unavoidable. I desire nu remuuoration A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 815 for tbo short time I luive served yon. Miss Forest may pprlinps oxphiin matters more fully. " Yours, respectfully, Claude D'Arvillb." The note was atldrcssed to Mr. Hazlewood. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he hegan another. "My Dear ]Miss Forest : — After the scene we wit- nessed to-night, it is impossible for me to remain longer at Ilazclwood. I leave by the first train this morning, for London — from there I will send an address to which my baggage can be forwarded. Thanking you once more for your })ast kindnes.s, and begging you to be kind to poor Ilazel, I remain your sincere friend, "0. D'Arville." The gray dawn was creeping in pale and cold as ho sealed this List and arose. He put on an overcoat for the air was chill, took his traveling bag in his hand, and went down the grand staircase, and out of the great hall-door of the Ilazclwood mansion. And so, while Eve slept and dreamed rosy dreams of to-morrow, the gray and dreary dawn of that to-morrow saw him of whom she dreamed, flying from her as fast as steam could carry him, to the busy world of London. 816 A STORMY DAT, CHAPTER XX. A STORMY DAY. I' ' I: I ^AIN lashing the windows, rain drenching the grass, rain dripping from the trees, rain bhirriug and blotting out everything in a pale blank of sodden mist, and a high gale driving it in slanting lines before it — that was what Eve saw, looking from her chamber-window, next morning. A change had come over the night, and the cloudless sky and bril- liant moonlight had been followed by a drear and dis- mal day. A gloomy prospect Eve's dark eyes looked on the deserted avenue, the splashy country road beyond, the storm-beaten trees, writhing and tossing their long arms aloft, and the weird blast shrieking tlirough them with a wild, half-human sort of cry. But the heart makes its own sunshine, and Eve was singing half unconscious, with a smile on her face like a happy child, singing a snatch of the sweet ballad somebody — her somebody had — sung months ago, at Madame SchafEer's fUe : A STORMY DAT. 817 "Ellcu Atlair she loved mo well, Against lier futlicr and tnotlier'3 will. To-day I sat for iiu hour and wept, By Ellen's grave on the windy hill. Shy she was, and I thought her proud — Thougiit her cold, and fled o'er the sea; Filh^d was I with folly and spite, Wiien Ellen Adair was dying for me. Cruel, cruel were the words I said, Cruel came tiiey back to me." She stopped sliorfc, and dropped the curtiiin over the window with a delicious little shiver. "What a song for nio to sing this morning ! Oh, how happy I am, and how good every one is to me ! What a thankful heart I ought to have to the Author of all good gifts !" There was a picture over her bed— "Christ Blessing Little Children." Eve's face grew grave and reverent as sho lifted her eyes to that divine countenance, so sublimo in its calm majesty ; and kneeling down, sho bowed her face in her hands to say her morning prayers. So long sho knelt, that ten struck from the loud-voiced clock in the hall without, and a tap at the door only answered her at last. She rose and opened it, and saw one of the housemaids standing there. '* Oh, is it yon, ]\rary ?" Eve said. "I suppose you have come to tell me breakfast is ready ?" ^'^ 818 A STORMY DAT. "Yes, miss, and Miss Forest is waiting. Is your face better this morning, miss?" "Much better, thank you. Tell Miss Forest I will bo down in a moment." " She had taken the disfiguring court-plaster off, and only a few red scratches remained. Eve took a parting peep at herself in the glass, to make sure that her curls were smooth and her collar straight ; and thought, with a smile and a blusli, as she ran down-stairs, she would not look so very frightful in his eyes, after all. She might have spared herself the trouble. Una Forest only was in the room, standing at the table, wailing. One look at her face scut a chill to Eve's bounding heart ; and had it been carved out of an iceberg or a snow- wreath, it could not have been whiter or colder. Iler thin pale lips were cold, compressed, smileless ; her eyes as devoid of light or warmth as the sapphire stone ; and even the rustle of her Quakerish gray dress had some- thing chilling and repellent in its sound. Where wag the kind, motherly, warm-hearted Una Forest of last ? tnoonli night ? Had she been a changeling of the radiant ight. gone "I have kept you waiting, I am afraid," Eve fal- tered, her air-castles shivering on their frail foundation. A STORMY DAT. 810 **Yos," Miss Forest coldly said, "you have. Be good enough to take yonr place." She poured out the coffee and passed the toast in a manner that effectually took away Eve's appetite ; but indignation was coming to her aid now, and giving her courage. Misji Forest, watching her as a cat does some unfortunate mouse it is going to devour presently, saw a hot red spot coming into cither cheek, and a bright angry liglit in either evi'. What had slio done to be troaU'il like tlii.s ? Slie iiad committed no crime, that she need be afniid. She would speak, and show ^riss Forest she was no slave of her humors and. whims. " AVhere is Cousin Ilazcl ?" she demanded, looking up. Una Forest's pale blue orbs met the bright black ones with a glance so cold, so stern, so severe, and so prolonged, that the outraged crimson rose in a (iery tide to Eve's brow. " You want to know where Miss Wood is, do you ?" "Yes, Miss Forest." "Then she is in my room, where she has been all night, too ill to leave it." Eve rose ]ireeipitatcly. 320 A STORMY DAY. ** IIiizcl sick ! When — how — what is — Misa Forest, I must go to her at once !" Miss Forest pushed usiilo her plulo iind cup, tind rose, too. ** I beg your pardon. You will do notliing of the kind." "Miss Forest!" " ^Miss Ilazclwood — if tliat bo your unmo — T am mis- tress here, I think, aud accustomed to be obeyed. You do not set foot in my room, eitlicr to-day or any other day, while you see fit to remain at Hazelwood Hall 1" Eve stood looking at her, utterly confounded. Had Miss Forest suddenly gone mad ? The cold sweet, voice of that pale little lady broke the brief silence. "You thought no one whs watching you last night, doubtless, when you held that shameful interview. You thought the lie you acted would never bo discov- ered ; but both are known now, and so are you, you wicked and sliamclcss girl ! And yet, after it all, you can dare to stand and look mo in the face like this ! Oh, I could blush for you, so young and so depraved !" "Stand and look her in the face !" Eve's great dark eyes were dilating in utter bewilder- A STOIiMY DAT. 821 mopt, to twice their iiatiinil size, while every truce of color was slowly fading fnmi luf face. **Go to your room, ikjw," Miss Forest's pitiless voice continued, as she moved to the door; "to one more injured than I, I leave the task of upbraiding you. Go to your room, unhappy girl, and remain there until sent for." She was gone, but Eve never moved. She stood literally rooted to the spot, so coni[)letely lost in wonder, so utterly dumbfounded by this amazing and vague charge of crime, that she scarcely knew whether she wore asleep or awake. She passed her hand over her face in a bewildered way. " What does she mean ? What did she say I had done ?" she asked herself, confusedly. " I don't under- stand at all ! Go to my room, and stay there ! What will I do that for ? I will not do it. No, I will not ! If Miss Forest has not gone mad, I will find out what she means." Indignation had come to the rescue again. Eve's spirit, naturally bright, flashed up in her pale face, kindling a rod glow there, and blazed like black flame in the flashing eyes. Impetuously she started after Miss Forest, but Miss Forest was not to be found. She had 823 A STORMY DAT. given a, brief order about dinner, and had gone away, and the servants knew nothing of her. With a step tliat rnng and rebounded, Eve marched across the upper hall, and knocked at her door. There was no answer ; and though she knocked again and again, it was all labor lost. Eve stood and listened, the angry blood coursing tumultuou!?ly through every throbbing vein. "She is in there, I know," was her thought, "and she hears me well enough. I shall not stir from here until she comes out, if I have to wait the whole day long." Too excited to stand still, the girl began pacing rap- idly and vehemently up and down the long hall, watch- ing the door that never opened. No, indeed ; why should it? when there was another door witiiiii that chamber communicating with the lower hall, of which she knew nothing. So Eve trod up and down like a young Pythoness going into training for expeditions as an Amazon sentry, while Miss Hazel was serenely attend- to her duties down-stairs. So, while hour after liour of the dark and rainy day wore on. Eve paced her lonely beat undisturbed — for not even the housemaid came near her — until she grew so completely oxliausted that she could walk no longer. Even then she would not A STOltMY DAY. 823 leave, so sure was she that tliore was some one within ; but seated lieivelf witliin the wiile window-ledge, at the end of tlu' hall, and gazed out at the bleared and deso- late evening, with all its own gloom on her face. Oh, wiiero was D'Ai'villc ? Wiiere was Hazel ? Had they all deserted her together ? Had they all gone crazed with Una Fore.-t ? 8ix struck from the hall-clock. A voice at her ear an instant after made her start : but it was only the servant who had come to her in the morning, and whom she had not heard cross the hall. "Miss Eve, Miss Forest wants to know if you will come down to dinner ?" "Miss Foro.st; is she in lier own room ?" "Ohilearno, niiss ; she's been down-stairs all day." Ev(! ])assril iuM' lijind to her throbbing forehead. "And is it I who am going insane ?" she thought. "You look i)oor]y, Mi say, is the only word for it. Hazel had crieu until ph: lould • •». A STORMY DAY. 825 cry no longer, and had now relapsed into a state of unmitigated sulkiness. Eve went over eagerly to her. "Hazel dear, what is the matter with you ? Are you sick — are you in trouble ?" She laid her hand on Hazel's shoulder, Init that young lady started up and flung it off violently. " Don't touch me ! don't come near me, you mean, underhand, deceitful, treacherous, lying tiling! I hate you — there — " A hysterical outburst of sobs wound uji the outburst of temper. Eve recoiled as if she had been struck in the face, and a malicious smile dawned on the thin lips of Una Forest. Mary came suddenly in with a startled face and two letters in her hand. "Oh, if you please, Miss Forest," slie began vehe- mently, " Mr. D'Arvillo is not in his rooui at all, and his bed hasu't been slept in all night, and his trunk and things is all packed, and here's two letti'rs as I found on his table; and if you ])lease, miss, I do think as how he's boon and gone away." Una Forest crossed the room and snatched the letters out of the girl's hand. That she was excited, could lie seen ; for the lingers that tore open the one adressed to 326 A STORM V DAT. hersell • ' od perceptibly. As she read it, she uttered a sharp d aery of bitter di.sanpointmeut and morti- fication. Gone left her ! never to return, in all likeli- hood ! "Was this what she had plotted and planned for — was this the way she was to turn him against Eve, and keep him at her own side — was this the end of all her schemes? Surely, her cunning had overshot tho mark, and she had been foiled with her own weapons. "Gone !" she cried out, "where did he go ? Some of the servants must have seen him ! Mary — " But the address was interrupted by another cry, more startled than her own, and Eve was by her side. *• Gone !" she echoed, her lips pale, her eyes wild. " Gone, Miss Forest ! Do you mean to say that Mr. D'Arville has left Ilazelwood ?" Una Forest turned upon her like a tigress, her eyes flashing blue flame, her whole face livid with suppres- sed passion. " Ho has gone ! lie has left Hazelwoorl forever, and it is you wlu) have driven him from it ! You, you wicked, you shameless, you disgraceful creature! H*^ has gone, hating, despising, abhorring you, as we all do now. Don't look at me so, you vilo girl ! with your mis- erable white faco ! Go to tho man you met by night in A STORMY DAY. 827 the grounds ; go to Paul Schaffcr now, and exult with him over your work." Eve stood motionless, paralyzed, dumb. Mary stood with eyes and mouth agape, Hazel looked up with a frightened face, but Una Forest had lost the self-control of a life in an instant ; the tide of passion, so seldom moved in that stagnant breast, all the more powerful for that very reason, swept everything beford its resist- less force. Five minutes later, slio might be her own calm, ladylike, coldly severe self again ; now she was mad — mad with rage, jealousy, and disappointment. Now she must speak or die. "You !" she half-screamed, "you wretched, depen- dent, nameless thing — living on tlie bounty of strangers — you, a miserable beggar, for all your airs and graces — you, lower than the servants who wait on you, for they are honest, at least — ^you, with no right to the name you have tlisgracoil, whose motlicr was a wretched street- wallcer of Now York — you, who, springing from the filth and scum of the city-streets, dare to reign hero like a queen, and yet show tlio scum and dregs you spring from, by night and by stealth, it is you, you, who have driven him from the house, to which he liad far more riglvt tluin yourself, in which you never were 328 A STOnMT DAT. wanted, from which you should have been sent long ago to earn your living, like any other pauper. I tell you, girl, I hate and despise you, and shall never rest until yon are turned from tlio house you have disgraced ; and then let the man you met by stealth protect you, or else follow your vile outcast mother's example, and — " But she did not finish ! There had been one wild, wild shriek from Eve, and then she had turned and fled from the room, from the house, like a mad creature. Mad ! for the time being she was so — the terrible words of Una Forest were ringing in her ears like death-knells, seared on her brain in letters of fire. She was conscious of nothing, only one wild, frantic, delirious idea of flying very far away, anywhere — anywhere out of the reach of that serpent-tongue. She knew not where she was going, wliat she was doing, only that they had driven her wild. And so she fled on. Night was falling fast, a drenching rain with it, and evertliing was blurred in a mist of sudden fog. Ileaven and earth were dark Jilike, but she saw not the darkness ; her liead was bare, her long hair fluttering in the night-wind, but she felt no cold, heeded not the soaking rain. Stumbling, slipping, falliug, rising, and flying on again, that frantic figure c t u BLACK MONK'S. mshed through the night and the storm, on and on, and over, a very maniac, until at last exliausted nature gave way, and she sank down, prone on her face, on the soaking grass. SJie never thought were slie was; in tliat first delirium she did not care. And so there, with the dismal night falling, with tlie ruin drenching her tlirough and through, Eve llazolwood, wlio had risen that morning happy, loving, and beloved, lay at night a homeless, friendless outcast. Oh, truly has it l)cen said, "Wo know not what a day may bring fortli." CHAPTER XXT. BLACK monk's. TIE did not faint ; lying there prostrate, with ilie rain beating upon her, and the wind lluttering licr hair and garments— she was yet eonscioii;^ Perhaps it was that very wind and rain, cooling her burning brow, that kept lier so ; but for a time nature was so completely exhausted, that she was unable to move. Tlien slowly, as the first mad excite 830 BLACK MONK'S. mcnt and delirium died out, all the horror of her situa- tion dawned upon her. It was niglit — a tempest was raging, she was friendless and homeless — without where to lay her head. Must she stay in this dreadful place all night ? — must she lie liore and die ? Oh, if death would only come at once ! Eve wislied for it then, as we all do wish for it in our first moments of sinful des- pair. What was there left to live for now ? All love — and love makes up all that is worth living for to some — had faded out of her life, and why should she wish to drag on a dreary and unloved life ? Ah ! Eve could not remember tlien, in lior first bitterness of despair, that "There is a love tliat never fails . When earthly loves decay." Heaven and earth, that dismal night, looked black alike, A clock struck nine — the clock of the village chxtrch. She was in Monkswood then, and near shelter if she chose to ask for it. She raised herself on her elbow, puslicd back the dripi)iiig masses of hair from her face, and looked round. Lights twinkled in the distance — stars of hope — from tlic cottage-windows. Eve was well known in Monkswood. She had I)een good to more than one poor sufferer there ; her bright BLACK MONK'S. 881 face had made Bunshino in many a poor homo : hor sweet voice had whispered hope in many a sorrowful ear; her princely hand and heart had shared with them the last farthing she possessed. Yes, she could not die on the roadside this terrible night ; she would go to some of these humble homes until to-morrow should come, and then she would fly — she knew not whither, cared not either, so that it was far from Ilazclwood. Faint, dizzy, staggering, the girl rose up and toiled slowly on through tlie darkness and tlie rain. Now that the feverish excitement hud passed away, the false strength it had lent her had gone with it, and she was so weak she could hardly totter. She had eaten nothing since early morning, and at tlie first cottage she came to, she dropped down on the doorstep, feeling that, if her life depended on it, she coukl not go one more step. It was a poor place tliis cottage with tliin doors and curtainless windows. Eve could hear voices within, and one — i he voice of a man — had a strangely-familiar sound. Slio tried to think wlio it was ; but hor head felt all wrong and confused — memory would not come to her aid. She rose up ■'^gain, resolved to see, before she asked for shelter ; it might be one of those cruel enemies she had left, for all she could tell. The little window was 883 BLACK MONK'S. uncurfcained, tlio room bright with firo and candle-light — as humblo within as without, too ; but Eve saw nothing of that — her eyes wore fixed on its tlirco occu- pants. Surely, that old Avoman on the stool in front of the firo had a strangely-familiar face. Where had she seen her before ? And that man — that fall gentleman, wearing that well-known cloalc, must bo Senor i\rendez, her Cuban friend. And that third face — ah ! what sight of horror was that ; her own face looking straiglit back at her ; her own face as she saw it every day in the glass. There was a shrill shriek of affright, a heavy fall, and Eve Hazelwood had fainted for the first time in her life ! What a strangely confused and bewildered feeling is the return of consciousness after a swoon. Gentle- men, perhaps, not being of tlio fainting sex, know very little about it ; but their sister-sufferers, being used to it, know the dizzy, disagreeable, distressed sense of vague bewilderment with which life and recollection comes back. Everthing looks unusual, the most familiar objects unfamiliar ; voices at our ear sound far off, and the well-known home-faces strange and vision- ary like the rest. But when the fainter comes to in a strange room, where everything is really unfamiliar — BLACK MONK' 8. 833 furniture, faces, voices and all — tliou she is indeed, an object of pity. It was Eve's case, as she rose ^x\^ and looked round Iier. What large room was tliis, with its strange, antique furniture, its black oil-paiutings, its wood fire burning on a marble hearth, its tall wax can- dles flaring on an inlaid table, its huge tented bedstead looking like a house ? Who Averc tiiese three tall men looking at her, one of tlieni sitting beside her holding her wrist ? and who was that elderly lady in black dress and snow-white cap, watching her Avith such kind, compassionate eyes ? Wliat had hajipcncd, and where could she bo ? She moaned out sometiung vaguely to that effect, as she passed her hand over her forehead piteously, trying, poor child to clear her mental vision. "All right now," said the gentleman holding her wrist, dropping it and putting a glass to her lipa ; "I said you would come to presently ! Drink this, my dear, and you will be as well as ever." Eve drank as submissively as a little child. It was port wine, and helped her at once. Slie looked again at the man beside her, with new-born resignation in her gi'eat bright eye. " Are you Mr. llohucs ?" she asked 834 BLACK MONK'S. "Of course, I am, my tloiir Miss Iluzclwood," an- swered tlie villiigo-snrgcon. "IIow do you fcol now? Like ii giant refreshed — eli ?" " 1 feel better, tliunk you," very faintly ; •* tliough please to tell mo wliere I am ?" "In a very nice place Miss Eve, Black Monk' Priory I" " Black Monk's ! Why— how— " "There, don't get fidgety now. You fainted, you know, and wo found you as dead as a door-nail ; carried you off hero, and brought you to life again. For further explanation, I must refer you to this gentleman here." The gentleman thus evoked stepped forward and bent over her. Eve grasped his hand, with a glad cry — it was good to see that familiar face, where all was so strange and new. "Senor Mendcz," she cried out, holding his kind hands. " Oh, I am glad you are here 1" " My own little Eve !" ho said, a little huskily, "thank Heaven, you are conscious again. You feel better, do you not ?" " Oh yes ! but I Avant to know how I camo here 1 When did I faint, and what made me ?" BLACK MONK'S. m Senor Mondoz turned to tho third gentleman still ia the Ijuckground. "My lord, if you and Mr. Holmes will kindly leave me alone with Miss ILizolwood, for a few moments, I will give her all tho explanation she requii- 'S, It will be better for her to know at once than work herself into a fever with wondering." "Of course," said Lord Landsdowne, courteously, "for as many minutes as you please. Mrs. Roberts." Mrs. Roberts, who was the housekeeper at Black Monks, obeyed tho hint, and followed his lordship and tho physician out the room. Senor Mendez took the chair beside her, and looked into her great dark eyes, fixed so wistfully upon him with a smile. There was something so infinitely kind and genial in his face, something so protecting and reassuring in his smile, that Eve's heart went out to him in a great cry. " senor I what does it all mean ! Am I going mad ? Will you turn against me, too ?" "My dear child ! turn against you ! why should I P" " Oh, I don't know ! I have not done anything that I know of, but they all have turned from me — they all hate me now ! I have no friend left in all the wide world, I think 1" 886 BLACK MONK'S. " Not evou mo, Eve ?" Slio looked at him earnestly, longingly ; trutli, honor, manliness, frieudlines — nay, love shone in those deep dark eyes, in that gentle smile, in that tender handclasp. Yes, Eve had one friend left ! Her face told him so, and his pleasant smile deepened. "Thank you, my little girl," ho said, as if she had spoken. " You arc not quite deserted yet ! And now tell me what they have been doing to you at Hazclwood — I think I half guess, though." *' I can't tell you what they have been doing to mo — only that they have all turned against me, and Miss Forest — oh," Eve cried, passionately, "how shall I ever forget the dreadful things she said ?" " Humpli ! it wa.s Miss Forest, then, the little sleek, eharp-clawcd cat ! What did she say to yon. Eve ?" "Dreadful tilings, seuor, and Hazel told me," with a choking sob, "that she hated me." " The deuce she did ! But Miss Forest, what did she Bay ?" " Senor, she said that I — that I — oh, I can't tell you," cried Eve, suddenly, covering hor face with her hands, but not before ho saw that sensitive face turn scarlet. BLACK MONK'S. 337 with she tell her turn ** Yes, you can, Eve ! remc