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Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont film6s en commenpant pai la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbols -^^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, ii est film6 d partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 1 THE RIVAL BROTHERS BY Mrs. may AGNES FLEMING AUTHOR OF "THE DARK SECRKT," "THK QUKKN OK THE ISLE," "THE HEIRESS OF CASTLE CLIFF," " MAODALEN'S VUW," "THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW," "THE MIDNIGHT QUEEN," ETC. NEW YORK THE FEDERAI, BOOK COMPANY PUBLISHERS CoprRiGHT, 1875, BEADLE & ADAMS. ^1 i C0Nrp:NTs. CHAPTER I. The Man in the Cloak ''''''I o II. A Christmas Gift j5 III. The Brothers .^^ IV. The Apple of Discord 3^ V. The Hazel woods at Home 40 VI. The Wedding-Night 43 VII. The Tragedy Slackens 53 VIII. The Last Dark Scene gg IX. A Revelation ^„ X. Stolen ^'•'^^ •••••••.".'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.■.■.'.■..'.■.'.■.■;.■.■.■.' 90 XII. The Pensionnaires' Fete og XIII. The End of the Fete jq^ XIV. A Tempest in a Teapot 1^^ XV. Eve's First Proposal j .,4 X\ I. Hazehvood Hall y,. XVII. Two Old Friends. . . , ,, 144 XVIII. Eve's Second Proposal j^^ XIX. A Moonlight Interview .,.0 XX. A Stormy Day XXI. Black Monks ' ' ito iii ""^ CONTENTS. CrfAPTER XXII. TheCIoud PAGE XXIII. The Silver Lining........ '"'" ^^^ XXIV. Measure for Measure.... ^^^ XXV. The Story Told in the Death^Room Z XXVI. Jubilate ^^'^ XXVII. A Parting Peep. ^^^ 220 -'s ,1 % I PAOB . 189 . 193 . 197 . 203 . 210 . 220 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. CHAPTER I. THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. Thk drear and dark December day Avas ending in a drearier and darker evening. A })itter frost blackened tlie earth, wrathful clouds bhickened tiie sky, lealless trees rattled their skeleton-arms in long and lamentable blasts, aiid the river rolling along, turbid and troubled, tossed \ii l)lack surges and mo.'ined dismally up on the black sands. Everything looked glnistly and dismal, in the gray, spec- tral twilight ; the lonely little river-side village lying life- less under the gaunt, stri[>2)ed trees ; tlie long, lonesome country-road, winding ''in and out among deserted fields and soddy marshes ; the bleak hills in the background, and the l)leaker sandv level in the foreii'round, with noth- ing of life near but the solitary l;:tle way-station, on whoso ])latform a retl light burned. Of all lonely way-stations, nndisturbed from dawn to dark except when the train came sin'eaming through, there could scarcely be found one lonelier than the little station in the sandy level at the village of Riverside. In the pleasant summer-time, Avhen the sun shone on the white sands, the cows grazed in the grass meadows, and the birds sung in the waving trees, it was a ])leasant spot enough ; but now, with tlie December snow falling ghostly around it, vou mio-ht have searched lonjx befoj-e vou could imd a more solitary or deserted spot. In summer-time, the train from the city never arrived without stop])ij!g to set down sporting young Ootlmmites, armed with llshing- rods and tackle ; for Riverside wa'^ famous for trout jind pretty girls, and young Xew Yorkers found it Ji very 6 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. enlivening way to pass tlie dog-days, angling for one and making love to the other. ]5ut in December, when the tn)Ut-streams were ice-bound, the pretty girls unwilling to redden their dear little noses by exi)osure to Jack Frost's kisses, md the oj)era and theater in i'ull blast in tho Empire City, young Xow York stayed at homo, and tho train passed through, evening after evening, without land- inii; anv one at the lonesome station. On this particular December evening, the clerk sat iu his little den, witli one or two especial frieiuls, smoking clay pipes, while waiting for the last down-train. A few passengers sat in the waiting-room, reading the Eivcrsido Mcrciirji, or talking, to while away the tedious interval, or looking at the snow falling in feathery ilakes ou the frost-blackened ground. The cylinder-stoves in the clerk's office and waiting-room were heated red-hot, and the lamps were llaring cheerful defiance to the growing gloom with- out. '' [ say, ]\Ir. Station-master, ain't the oars late to-night ? " asked ii burly passenger, putting his head in at the ofilce- window. The clerk looked at the little clock fastened to the wall, and took his pipe from between his lips. '^ It's oidy half-})a3t four, sir ; they'll be along directly. Oh, here thev cotne now." Everything was in commotion directly. Everybody Avas on his feet ; overcoats were donned, carpet-bags aiul valises were sinzed, ami a general stampede made for the platform. With tho unearthly yell of a demon, the ex- pected train rushed in and stopped, and tlie faces of the jKissengers looked out thi'ough the steamed and blurred Avindows at the Iviversidc station. T!ie i)cople in the waiting-room bustled in, and the loafers smoking v/ith tho clerk watched them go. *' No 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 conies." The speaker was mistaken. Before he had ceased speak- ing, fi 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 wtiy, and the clerk and his friends came in out of the cold winter air, to the warm inllufiioe of the red-hot cylinders. THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. The traveler wlio had stopped was tall and commanding of Hgure, with the iinmi.-^takable air and heariiii,^ of a gentleman. Jle was young, too, and very gooddooking ; and tlie long traveling-cloai<; he wore, with its deep, furred collar, bet-'anie his line form well. A fur cap was pulled over his eyes ; and as he drew off one of his warm travcl- ing-gl()vcs, the clerk and his friends had their eyes dazzled by the blaze of a diamond ring o?i a hand white and shapely as a lady's. His sole journeying equipage seemed to consist of liis cigar-case, from which he leisurely selected a weed, and lit it at one of the tlaring lamps. '^ A sharp night, sir," the clerk suggested respectfully, a little awed bv the sti-iking fmure aiid flashing diamond, •' won't you sit down and take an air of the tire ? " *' I'm not cold, thank you," the tall stranger said, })iill- ing out a su[)crb gold hunting-watch, and glancing at tho liour. " Twenty minutes to live, and dark already ! (iood night to you.'' Drawing on his glove again, and pufling away ciur- geiicaily, the gentlenuin walked out of the waiting-room. The clerk and his friends went to the window and looked out after him — in tho gloom of the winter night they ct-uld see him striding through the falling siiow, with tremendous sweep of limb, in the tlirection of the village. "'An uncommon swell, that," one of tliem said, going back to tlie stove. "Did you notice that 'ere ring on his little fiiigei' I It cost a few dimes, did that Hasher, I've a notion." *' What brings him to Kiverside, T wonder ? " remarked another. "There's no fishing or partridge-shooting now, and he looks too grand to come on any other business." 'SSeenis to me I've seen that young chap l)efore," said the cierk, meditating. "It ain't his' first visit to River- side, or he'd never know the road to the village so well. ►Should like to know where he's going when he gets tliere." " To the Golden Swan, most likely," s;iid the first speaker. " Vio on with that stur sn])iK'r m live minutes. Lizzie, run and look after those biscmits. 1 expect the ham's burned to a ci'isp by this time." Lizzie and her mother llew back to the inner apartment, and Ca])tain Forrest lingered for a moment to speak to mine host. " I am going back to Xew York by the np-train, Jarvis ; what time does it pass ? " lO THE RIVAL BROTHERS. " Nine o'clock, cap'n ; bnt ain't yon going to stay all ni.^lit ? " "Can't, nil fortunately. I came down on bnsiness. Can you have theirig in readiness by tlie time I get through supper ? J liave a few miles to go, and shall not stop this way again. 1 can leave it in charge of the clerk at tiic railway-station -'si }) '' Certainly, cap'n, bnt I should like to have yon stay. It's too bad you should leave us in such a Inirrv."' " Tlie loss is mine, Mr. Jarvis ; nothing would give me more pleasure than staying, but business before pleasure, you know." " 1 did not tliink Captain Forrest ever had any weightier bnsiness than fooling silly girls," said Mr. Jarvis, with knowing eyes ; ami the handsome young captain laughed. " I'm a reformed character, ]\fr. Jarvis ; don't look so dubious ; it's the truth, I assure you. And now for some- thing to stitisfy the inner n.'an." Throwing his cloak over the back of a chair, and his caj) aiul gloves thereon, ho strolled into the next room, luimniing an air. The moment bis back was turned, Mr. J;!,rvis v\';i.s besieged with questions. '' I don't know much about liini," that gentlonuui stiid, resuming his seat and his cards, '^except t])at lie is an uncommon fine young gentleman, ready to spend money like a pi'inee. He came here last summer with a lot of other youug gentlemen, to fish nnd slioot, aiul stopped witli us for three weeks. His name is Captain Forrest, and he is an Fnglishmau, niore's the pity : and that's everything 1 know about him. Dobson, the deal's yours." Yv'hile Mr. Dobson shuffied the cards and Mr. Jarvis summoned Ids onlv servant lohim, who was eatiiu'; pea- nut;: and overlooking the game, to go out and fetch the gig and mare, the young gentleman, whose biography he liad l)een giving them, was seated before a table, laden with tea and toast, ham ami eiigs, liome-made cake and pies, discussing tlio viands with the appetite of a lumgry travehM*. while jrood-nafured little '^^rr^. Jarvis slood with her fat liauds on her fat sides, overlooking the perfor- mance with a face beaming with hospitable delight. '^ Aud so Iiiverside is the sanu^ old story." Captain Forrest was saying ; " no changes at all, I suppose. No- body dead or nuirried, or left or settled, eh ? " I THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. II 'S ''Xot many, cap'ii ; folks when they settle clown here don't care to leave, and uvw folks doiii't much care to come. Try tlie pie. I made it myself, and 1 know it's good." ** It must be if you made it. And so there have been no chan,f::es at all ? " Lizzie turned round from the cookstove, over which she was bonding, with a scarlet face. *' Tlicrc's some folks moved into one of them old houses 0!i the marsli lately, niotiier. Ain't you heard of them ?" Islvs. Ja»'vis turned up her nose. " Oh, tiiey're of no account. They must be {)oor as Job's turkey, wlioever tln^y are, or tlu\v wouhhi't live there. Ifave another cup of tea. cap^n, and try the cake.'' '• I dare say they're ])oor enough," said Li:>:zie, going on with her cooking, "'but the young woman that's tiiere looks like a lady, and everybody says so. She's handsomer tlian anybody I ever saw before in my life.'' " What's lier name ? " asked Captain Foi'rest, looking interested. " Nobody knows. They came a few weeks ago, four of tliem — an old wonnm, and a young one and two children. It's the young woman that's so handsome, and the two children, and I do say she looks like a lady, if she is poor.'' " Has she over been here ? " *' xs'o ; she don't go out nuudi, but I've seen her once or twice. The old woman comes to the store somotinn's for things, but nobody knows lier name, or whore they cotne from, or anything about them." " And I don't believe they're any better than they ought to bo," struck in Mrs. rlarvis, with the usual charity of her SOX ; "'wiiere there's secrecy tlun-e's guilt, that's my opinion. Do try the cakes, ca])'n, won't you ? " '^ Couldn't, possibly. I have done am[)ie justice to your good tilings, I think. Mrs. Jarvis, and now 1 must ])id you good-by and be off." Al.s. .larvis protested loudly, ami l^izzie looked nn- spo:ikal)lo things under h^r eyoiashes, ])ut Captain l-'orrost v.'as [)roof against l)oth, and returned to the b;ir-room, where the card-party was still in full blast. ** The boss and gig's at the door, ca})'n," ]\[r. Jarvis said, '' but r don't see why you can't come back and stop with us a M'oek or so. It seems kinder bad to liavo vou come one moment and lly oil the next." p ' 12 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. "Can't be helped, imfortunately/' said the young muu, throwing liis cloak over his shoulder, and putting on his cap and gloves ; "good-by, Mrs. Jarvis ; good-by, 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-by, .Atr. Jarvis : a thousand thanks for the se of the ij^'i^^. You'll find it all safe lo-niorrow morninir us fci'» at the station. ' Shaking hands all round, the young man went out, followed bv Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis. The s'lS stood at the S)'& door, and he sprung lightly in, seized the reins, touched the horse with the whi[>, ami shouting a last good-by, tlew off and was lost in the darkness of the December night. ^J'he snow was falling rai)idly now ; antl the road, running between rows of tall, black trees, looked like a silver line set in ebony. The darkness is never very dense wheu it snows; ami though neither moon nor stars shone to show hirn 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 journey in that direction. It was a lonely not to say dismal spot in Avhich he chose to alight ; on one side, the river rolled turbid aiul black ; on the other, miry marshes spread, sloppy and sodden. Before him, the path lost itself in a frowning cedar-wood, where mur- ders might have been committed in broad daylight, and no one be the wiser. 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 wijidows lights gleamed. Only the very poor could have remained there, and fever and ague must have been the bosom-friends of their wretched innnites. The handsome young English captain, witli the diamond on his finger, one would think could have little to do with the dwellers in such a place. Yet here lie cuose to alight, and tying the horse to a tree, took a survey of the four or five miserable dwellings around. "One of the houses in the marsh, they told me,'" he said, to himself. " I wonder which of them it is ; perhaps I had better talie them as they come." There was a path through these miry, treaclierous marshes — he knew it well, and struck into it at once ; for in the sunny days gone by he had wandered there often, with THE MAN IN THE CLOAK. 13 (I a J* ir e s II his gun on his shoulder, and his do<::^ at his heels. It led liim straio-ht to one of the niiserable d\velli!i2:s — a wretched place, with tumble-down cliiniuey. rattling doors, broken windows and leaky roof. Ligiits shone from two of tlie ruined windows — very feebly from one in the gable, and brighter from another in front. There was a white mus- lin shade over each, but so short and torn that the case- ments they adorned would have been (|uile as well without tliem, either for ornament or use. Standing on the out- side, you could see, if you chose, everything going on within ; and Ca})tain 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 the corner, its miserable straw pallet 'covered with coarsest bedding. A tidlow candle guttering m a dirty brass candlestick, shed tears of fat on the table, ,. d its dim red light on the two women who were the only inmates of the bare and cheerless room. There was a wood fire, smoldering and smoking viciously on the hearth ; and they sat on two low stools, facing each other, one in each cormu*. From the position in which he stood, one M'as directlv facing Captaiii Forrest, the other had her back to him. She whom he saw was old, ugly, hideously wrinkled, wretchedly clad, and was emulating the chimney by puffing forth clouds of smoke from a short, blackened clay pipe. The other, with her back to him, ajipeared youthful of figure ; and a great cloud of golden hair, sach as we see in pictures of Mary Magdalene, hung loose and disordered over her shoulders and down her back. Iler dreso was as poor as that of the other ; and slie cowered over the smoky fire, in a srrange, distorted attitude of piiin. It was a gloomy picture Captain Forrest saw, whether he looked within or without ; the bad, black night ; the ghastly white snow, ever falling, falling ; the bleak and lonesome marsh(*s. the dismal night sky, and more dismal river roaring sullenly along, the empty an.l comfortless room, and the two lonely watchers over the smoky fire. No wonder he turned away with something of the surrounding gloom darkening his fat*e. "It is her own fault," he said, jfrowning ; "why will (^ 14 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. sho be a fool. But now for the children — there is no time to lose." lie turned to tlie side-window, from which tlie feebler liglit shone, and looked in as he liad done at the other. "Here there was neither fire nor furniture, only anotlier trundle-bed in a corner, and another tallow candle, with a long-, red wick, ihiming and guttering ou the floor. EvideMtl_y he liad found what lie wanted, for lie tried the 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 tangled pro- fusion of black, curling hair. He scarcely sto])ped a moment to look at tiiem ; but drew from his pocket a bottk» and sponge, poured sonit' of the conteuts of the one on the other, and held it to the nostrils of the sleeping children. His breathing deepened ; the sweet slumber of infancy was changed to a heavy, death-like insensibility, and the young m;in rephiccd his bottk; and S])onge. *' Wliat a blessing chloroform is, judiciously adminis- tered ! " he muttered. '^1 don't think they will give much trouble for the next two hours. Now then I " 'IMiere was no quilt or blanket over the poor little bed, only a heavy plaid shawl, gaudy once, but faded and threadbare now. The young man wrapped the little 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 behind, mjide for his gig on the roadside. Taking his seat, with the children on his knee, sheltered from the cold and storm by his fui'-liued cloak, he started olf at a break-neck pace for the railway-station. The last up-train was just dashing in as he reached it, and he had barely time to secure his ticket and leave Mr. Jarvis' j)roporty in charge of the clerk, before it tore off again, shrieking like a demon. He had the chiklren, both rolled up together in the shawl, under his cloak. The sleepy passengers scarcely looked at him as he took hi seat, and in ten minutes lliversido and the house on the mars]> were far Ixdiind. and he and his sleeping prizes were Hying along to the city. A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 15 CHAPTER II. A CIIKTSTMAS GIFT. le lis '■jf it, Christmas eve, uiid ti coUl, clear night. Bright stars shining in a, blue wintry sky, a crcoocnt moon treading its silvery way up the hlue-black concave, where tlie con- stellations were flaming ; a clear, bright, bracing night, full of promise of a cloudless coming day. Christnuis eve, and Broadway crowded. All gaslight, and glitter, and throbbing life ; every shop-window a picture at which yi>u might stand entranced ; cars and stages, with their l)ril- liant-colored liglits, flashing up and down like overgrown lire flies ; the pavement crowded with pedestrians, |)ushing, 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 u]) to tlie chin in an overcoat of scd- skin, with a scarlet comforter wound al)out his neck, and a crush l>at pulled down 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 toy-shops and confectionery and jeweliw stores. Ko ; this num eyed all such places, as he trotted by them, with a sidelong glance of sour disdain, and jjursued the even tenor of liis way for a mile or so up the tlironged thoroughfare. lie stopped at last under a street-lam}), and pulled a card out of l)is pocket, which he perused with deliberation, by the aid of a pair of old-fashioned, silver- rimmed spectacles. Tic was a little man, you could see ; thin ami dark of face ; with small, jiiercing eyes ; thin, compressed, cynical lips, and a rai)id, energetic way of doing even the smallest thing, that would liave nuule a quiet person nervous to behold. "Number — , Fifth avenue," the little man read from the card. " I ought to be near the place now." Turning out of bustling Broadway, he made for tho quieter avenue beside it, ami walked along that aristocratic place, looking at the numbers on the houses us lie went. i6 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 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 in- scribed the name '* Hazelwood " ; and the little man in the seal-skin overcoat and red woolen comforter, nothing awed by its magnificence, ran boldly np the steps and wrung a stirring reveille. A yonng man in livery answered the summons, and stared superciliously at the crush hat and seal-skin coat. " Is Mr. Hazelwood at home ! " asked the little man, in a sharp, quick, imperative voice, no more awed by the tall young man in livery than he had been by the impos- ing exterior of the mansion. "Yes, he is,'' said the 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. *' I'll wait here 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 stilt cramped hand. The young man in livery looked at it dubiously, and then at its owner, whose peculiarly brilliant eyes were beginning to flash rather ominously behind his lunettes. Perhaps it was the fiery brightening of his glance that taught the tall young man he had better do as he was ordered : so he turned away with a slow and stately step, leaving the visitor in the doorway. He could see a grand entrance hall, with cornished ceil- ing, its walls adorned with rich paintings and pretty statues, lit with blazing clusters of gas ; a wide marble staircase, with gilded railing, going up in great sweeps to the regions above ; and the warmth coming delightfully up through the register that cold December night. Before the dark, bright eyes behind the spectacles had done not- ing all this, the tall young man returned, and behind him a tall old man, with a handsome, fresh-colored face, white hair and beard falling over a rich, Turkish dressing-gown of many colors, slippers on feet, smoking-cap on head, a smile of cordial welcome on his lips, and his hand extended in warm greeting. " My dear old fellow ! My dear Lance ! what a pleasant surprise for Christmas eve ! Come in ! come in ! who in the world would ever have thought of seeing you ? " ■J n A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 17 \ The tall young man receded into the background, quite cowed, and the little man suffered his hand to be shaken, and himself, red comforter and all, to be drawn in, with constitutional phlegm. '* How well you are looking, too ; not the least changed since we parted ten years ago I Take off your hat and overcoat and come up-stairs.^' By the aid of the tall youDg man, the visitor, who all this time had spoken never a word, was divested of his outer garment, and stood under the gas-jets in a decent suit of black broadcloth, a bald-headed, keen-looking gentlenum, of some forty-five or fifty years. ''This way, Lance," Mr. Ilazelwood said, leading the way up the grand staircase. '• Of all meii 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, ^Ir. Ilazelwood ?" asked, the visitor. " I heard some of them had gone abroad.'.' " Conway has ; Conway's inclined to be a rolling-stone, lam afraid, and will never gather much moss. "He 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, aiul eyed it Avith an expression of sardonic contempt 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. Ilazelwood ! " " You'll have some coffee with me, then," said Mr. Ilazelwood, ringing the bell. " I always have coffee one hour before dinner." But the fastidious little man wouldn't listen to this, either. "I don't drink coffee so late in the evening ; I consider it a pernicious practice. I'll take a cup of weak tea and some dry toast, if convenient. I never take anything lieartier after six in the evening." Mr. Hazelwood laughed, a genial, mellow laugh, pleas- ant to hear, and folded his gay dressing-gown closer around him. " What an old anchorite you are, Lance ! We used to tJ i8 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I call you Diogenes, at school, and I find you are Diogenes yet ! " " And you Alexander, I suppose ! " said the small gentleman, looking around him, cynically. ** The world seems to have gone well with you in the lapse of years." If one might Judge by Mr. llazelwood's looks and sur- roundings, it certainly had. The dining-room in which 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 bright fire burned ; for Mr. Hazelwood, 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 the bright, red cinders, and dream over the pictures therein. The two men sat oppo- site each other, in two carved and cushioned armchairs, and formed a striking contrast. The one with his fresh, florid complexion ; his tall, upright figure wrapped in the gay dressing-gown ; his snow-white hair and beard giving iiim the look of an old-time patriarch ; his kindly eye, and smile, and voice ; the other with Ids thin, keen, brown face, his sluirp, sardonic eye, his compressed, cynical mouth, his small, wiry figure, and quick, sharp, impera- tive tones. Yet they were friends, had been friends in boyhood, in youth, in nriuhood ; and now, when falling into the sere and yellow lenf, attached friends still, Mr. Hazelwood was some ten years the elder, and his three sons had been partially educated uiuler the super- vision of Professor Lance ; for a professor he was — Pro- fessor of Mathematics and Classics at College. A servant came to answer the bell. Mr. Hazelwood ordered tea and toast for his friend, and coffee for himself, and looked thoughtfully in the fire as he replied to the last remark. '^ Yes ; the world has gone well with me. Doctor Lance. I have been prospered beyond my deserts ; I am not a wealthy man, but I have enough for all my wants, and something to leave my boys when I go. I liave nothing to trouble me ; a light heart and easy conscience, I hope, smooth the downward path to the grave. Thank Heaven for the blessings I enjoy ! " He raised his velvet cap reverently as he spoke. A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 19 )} Doctor Lance sliglitly glanced up at the picture over the mai\tel — a portrait of a pretty woman, witli soft eyes and a gentle smile. '' Your wife is dead, I liavo lieanl." Mr. Ilazelwood's eyes lifted themselves to tlie portrait, too. '' She (lied eight years ago. Iler loss has been my only sorrow since I saw you last.'' *' You have a housekeeper now, I suppose." '^ My sister is my housekeeper. You remember Emily ; don't you. Lance ? '' Do^^tor Lance winced. Twenty years ago, when his phlegmatic blood had been young and hot, Jeremiali Lance hiul fallen in love with the pretty, insipid face of Emilv llazelwood, and been refused for a handsomer man. That was the first and last folly of Doctor Lance ; and now at fortv-five he was an old bachelor, readv to sneer with the best iit the gentle passion. '• She ran off with that graceless scamp, Frank Wood, you recollect,"' said Mr. JIazelwood, who had never known of his friend's little romance; ''and a pretty time they had together, for thirteen or fourteen years — AVood drink- ing and gambling, and she following him over the country in a state of semi-starvation, her children dying from her one after another as fast as they came. Two years ago, Wood died himself in a drunken fit, leaving Emily and one child, a little girl, penniless and homeless. Of course I brought them hero at once ; and here tlu^y have been ever since, and are likely to be while I am above ground. Susan," to the servant who came in with the tea and coffee, " tell ]\[rs. Wood there is an old friend here who would like to see her." "And so vour sons are all at home," remarked Doctor Lance, taking the tea his frieiul lianded him ; " gentle- men at large, I suppose — Broadway swells, with no profes- sion ; with no higher business in life to attend to tluin their toilet, and flirting in ball-rooms." Mr. Hazeiwood, sipping his coffee, laughed good- naturedly at the bitter speech. " You are a little severe. Doctor Lance — boys will be boys, you know, and mine, I truFt, are pretty good boys, as goodness goes among the jeirncs genx of New York. Conway does nothing, I must confess, beyond yachting, : 20 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. jiiid ranibliiiir up jiiul flow7i tlie world ; ))ut Artliur lias a stiulio in ]5r();i(l\vay, wlicrc lie Km()kes cigars and drinks lager, and daubs in paint all day long, and calls himself an artist ; and Kiigene has taken out his diploma, and hung up his shingle, with M. I), after his name, on the same thoroughfare, and I dare say is licensed to kill with the besl." Doctor Lance grunted. *' It's exactly like them — the characters of the three lie in a nutshell. Conway had brains and never would use them ; Arthur had none to use, and Kiiii'eiie had them and 3d th lie h than th )th to- more sen gether." " We won't quarrel over it, Lance — have another cu}) of tea ? They'll be surprised beyond everything tit sight of you. I'll send them word to come in here before they go out. Dressing, I believe, for a Christmas party at old Thornton's — Una's going, too. Oh, by the way, you don't know Una, do you ? " '' I haven't that honor." " To be sure you don't know her I T have only had her about four years. Her name is L^na Forrest — an orphan, poor little thing ! the daughter of my wife's only brother. We took her when her parents died, to keep her out of the M'orkhouse, and she has been here ever since. Wait till you see her. Lance, and you'll see the best and prettiest little girl in New York." '' Humph ! " remarked Doctor 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. Hazelwood, with his good- natured laugh, '' and nothing would tempt me to part with either of the three. Apropos of L^na, I sometimes think she and Eugene will make a match." " Don't ! " said Doctor Lance, raising a warning finger, "don't, 1 beg ! Of all the despicable things on the face of this earth, a habit of match-making is the most despicable." " My dear fellow, what are you talking about ? I am not match-making. I never thought of sucli a thing ; but I can't prevent the course of events. It's the most natural thing in the world that Eugene and L^na should marry. A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 21 ] Tlioy'ro cousins, to be sure, 'vvbich is a drawback, but still I tbink tbey could bardly do better/' ** And wby, pray, sbould Miss Una select especially vour younoest son ? " " Well, for several reasons. lie is nearest ber own ai^'e, more suitable in disposition ; and tben, Conw.iy, I fancy, lias already cbosen, and Artliur is too lazy to tbink of any- liiiuir but STnoking and painting. He ougbt to be a (ier- man student, at once." •• And wbo bas Conway bonored by bis preference ? " " A very pretty girl, Helen 'J'bornton, one of tbo greatest beiresses in tbe city. Come in." ^ Thiii last invitation was given in response to a tap at tbo door wbicb opened immediately after, to admit a cbarm- iiig visitor. A youtbful angel, of some fifteen years, slender and delicate of figure, as became ber age, iind robed in floating, misty wbite. Tbere was sometbing strik- ing aiivl peculiar about tbe girl — it consisted in the snowy whiteness and purity of her cumplexion. Tbe whole face was perfectly colorless ; yet no one could bave pronoun(;ed her sickly, but no xVlbino could bave boasted of a more perfect absence of color in the skin. Under the clear surface you could trace every blue vein, and tbe hair, worn in profusion of braids, was of llaxen lightness. The eyes were ratber snudl, and of tbe very palest blue ; tbe features small and pretty ; tbe bands and feet tiny, and the manner self-possessed and easy, to an extraordinary degree, for that age of transition. Her dress of while tulle, looped up witli bands of pale azure ribbon, was low-necked and short-sleeved ; and she wore a wreatb of blue llowers in lier pale bair. All wbite and azure, no one could look ^ once witbout turning to gaze again on that singular face. Every buman countenance, it is said, is either a histoiy or a prophecy — hers was a prophecy, and a startling one, too, coukl either of tbe twain looking at ber have re.-id if^. Doctor Laiice was evidently sti'uck, for be bent bis bhifk brows and fixed ids weird eyes on ber in piercing scrutiny ns ]\[r. H:i"ehvoo(l presonte- show and delusion, was betrayed into something like a glance of admiration. " Oh, what pretty little things ! " was Una's cry. ^' Oh, Uncle Hugh I ain't tliey sweet ? " '' I wish they had taken their sweetness somewhere else ! " growled Uncle Hugh, in a subdued tone, however. " They're pretty enough ; but what am I to do with them. I want to know ? I say : can they speak ? " '' AVhat's your name, dear ? " Una asked, taking the little hand of the blue twin and caressing the pretty curls. The two cliildren turned their black eyes on Una's pale face, and only stared in reply. " Tell me your name," persisted the young lady. *' Can't you spoak ? Wliat's your name ? " " Rosie," answered the little one in a sweet, infantile lisp. " Rosie what?" asked Una, encouraged. " Rosie,"' repeated the blue twin, still staring hard at her interlocutor. " Aiul where do you come from, Rosie ? " Una hesitated, still toying with the long curls. But Miss Rosie had exhausted her command of the speech of Albion in that one word; and the pink twin, whose eyes had been attracted by the wreath in Una's hair, here 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. What do they call you ? " *' 8ee, Rosie ! Sco, 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, jMiss?" inquired ^Mr. Ilazelwood, lifting the pretty cul|)rit up in his arms. But JMi^s Evangolino, averse, i)erha})s, to this summary mode of s(>izure, set u[) a prolonged yell, 1)y way oL' reply, and struggled to get free. Mr. Ilazelwood put her pre- cipitately down again. " I'll answer for the strength of your lungs, anyway, my little virago ! What under lieaven am I to do about this, Lance ?" ** You had better consult your sons on the subject." 26 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. " Stuff and noiisoTise ! Yon don't seriously mean to say you believe the infamous slander contained in this vile anonymous letter ?" '' 1 believe in the evidence of my senses ! Look at the faces of these infants, and see if they are not Ilazcl woods." '• Una ! " exclaimed Mr. Hazel wood, strugs^ling 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. ]\Ir. Hazel wood," sneered Doctor Lancje, '• tluit either of tliose young gentle- men will plead guilty to any })roprietorship in these two young ladies ! Why, the greatest of criminals answers • not guilty ' when the ju(l<';e goes through the formula." Mr. Hazel wood, his usually serene face very red, drew himself stilTly up. *•' My boys know how to tell tlie truth, Doctor Lance, poor as your opinion of them is. You may believe them or not, as you })lease, ami I shall do the same." Doctor Lance smiled contemptuously, and still stared through his spectacles at the little ones, who stood wonder- fully quiet, gazing around them. Una had darted oif to obey orders, and tlie two gentle- men were waiting in silence, when, with a strong rustling of silk, a lady swept down the staircase, her ribbons lluttering stormily in a breeze of her own making. A pretty lady ; fair, fat and forty ; her ample form robed in stiif bni'k silk, her black-lace cup 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 bracelets on her plump wrists. It was Mrs. Wood, with her brother's florid com- plexion, !ind the black eyes ami hair of the Hazelwoods. Her black evebrows raised very hiii:h, her black eves exceedingly wide o]ien, her mouth in the same state, her hands uplifted, and her whole face full of utmost con- sternation, she swept in between them like a whii'lwind. *' WHiat is it, Hugh ? What on earth it this ? Where in the world did these two children come from ?" " That's iust wluit I want some one to tell mvself. Urn as much i?i the dark as you are ! ' '' Susan s'Md there was a letter. AVhere is it? What does it say ? " THE BROTHERS. 27 " My dear Emily, don't get in such a gale ! The letter is here ; but before you read it. look round voii and see if yon can recognize an old friend I " Mrs. Wood, for the first time, turned her eyes on Doctor Lance, who made her a grave, still", old-fashioned bow. " Oh, my goodness ! Doctor Lance ! Why, how do you do?"' shaking hands with the utmost elfii.sioii. '' What a stranger you are I Wlien did you come ? *' •' Half an hour ago. 1 trust 1 see Mrs. Wood well ^ "' "• Very well, thank you ! And were on earlh " — ciied ]\rrs. Wood, forgetting nil about the cliildron iinmediaioly — '*' have you been all these years, I declare ? " Without waiting for an answer : '' You are not the least changed ! I should have knov.ii you anywhere.'" '"■ And 1 would not have knov/u you at all I "' said Doctor Lance, in a tone that conveyed no coinpliinoiit. '' 'Vcu years have changed you sutliciently I "' " Do you hear that, Emily ? He means to say yon are growing old and fat," laughed jMr. llazehvood. '• Xot much trace left of the svlph-like Emily Hazelvvood, eh, Lunce ? " Doctor Trance gave a snort that might have implied imy- thing. except perhaps dissent ; and Mrs. Wood, who in- lierited her brother"s good-nature, shrugged her broad slioulders and heaved a little sigh of resicfnatiou. "' Years improve none of us, 1 am afraid ; and it's bettor to grow stout and substantial tlnin shrink into the ' lean and slippered pantaloon" Shakespeare or somebody else talks about. You have come to make a long visit, of course. Doctor Lance ? " " lousiness requires my presciu'jo in \ew York Uw a few weeks. I shall stop no longer than is absolutely necessary, nuuiam ! " '' '.riiat is too bad of you. At all events, you will be our guest for those few weeks ? " '' Of course he will I"' exclaimed Mr. llazehvood. ** He will not oifend us by st()p[)ing anywhere else." " if such a tritle oll'ends you, you must be olTended, then ! I remain at the Astor Housti wliile here ! H's of no use, Mr. Hazelwood,"^ raising a warning finger as that gentleman was about to break out in expostulation. " You I':,'i ■M 28 n : THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ouglit to know nie well enough to be awure coaxing will be .'I waste of breath. Show !^[rs. AA'ood the letter and see what her woman's wit makes of it ! " !RIrs. Wood took tlie letter and nui her eve over it, setting up another scream of consternation at its close. " Your grandchildi'en ! Did you hear that, Hugh ? Good gracious 1.10 I Can it be true ? '' ''Emily! how can you ask such a question ?'' Mr. llazelwood sternlv ci-iod. Of course, it can't bo true ! '' " But, ilear nie, brother, it's so odd I and young men are such a set ! It's really the most extraordinary thing I ever h.eard of I " '" Not so very extraordinary in this city. Such things happen every day," said Doctor Lance. '• Come here, my dear," insinuated Mrs. Wood, holding out her motherly arms. " Come here and tell me your name I Can they speak ?" '' They can speak enough for that ! ^J'hisblue one calls liersell' Kosie. 'I'he 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 wei'C only one now," said Mrs. AVood, thought- fully, "but two I Such pretty little ])cts, too, and so beautifully dressed ! I wonder who their motlier is ? " " You had better ask your nephew," suggested that spiteful Doctor Lance. " The whole affair is absurd and mvstorious enou"ii for a three-volume novel. Oh, here comes some one Avho may throw some one light on the sub- ject, perhaps." Thev jdl looked round. Una was coming down-stairs with a young gentleman in stylish evening costume — a tall and liands^ome young gentleman, witli dark, l)right (yns, black curling hair, and his father's })leasant face. It was Mr. Conwav llazelwood — ii'raceless Coiiwav — whom Dr. Lance remombere(l 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 f her V, had made tli both of the awai' arrival of their foriuer tutor ; and given them a hasty sketch of the singular apparition of the twins, so that neitlier took them unawares. Eugene, who appreciated Doctor Tiance quite as much as tiiat gontle?naii did him, held 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 babes don't belong to you, doctor," lisped Arthur, staring languidly, while he shook hands. '• They're very pretty indeed. Look like two of Correggio's smiling angels." '' Angels some one of you three are accused of owning," said his father. " Read that letter aloud, Emily, and let me hear what they have to say for themselves." Mrs. Wood, nothing loth, read the pithy epistle from beginning to end ; and its effect on the three brothers was characteristic. Conway set up an indecorous laugh. Arthur's face was the very picture of helpless bewilder- ment, and Eugene's dark brows knitted into a swarthy frown. '' Xow, then," their father demanded, watching them scarchingly, " which of you does the letter mean ?" '' I should say it meant we held a joint-partnership in the affair, the three of us," answered laughing Conway. '^ Upon my word, that's the coolest piece of composition I have heard this many a day." *• By Jove !" said Arthur, still staring in helplessness, " it's the most astounding thing, isn't it ? Like a thing in a nlav or a storv — eh ? " " I don't see that tliere is anything so astounding about it," said Eugene, his black brows still knitted. " There are more things in heaven and earth than you droam of in your simple philosophy, my good father." '' j>y Ceorge ! Eugene's going to own up ! " cried Conway, while every eye fixed itself on tlie youngest son of Mr. Hazelwood ; " still waters run deep, they say, and after this I shall believe it ! Let me be the first to em- brace my niece." He lifted the nearest cue, the pink twin, in his arms as 32 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. he spoke, and pressed his nuistached month to its cherry li[)s, 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 like Conway," laughed his father ; " the little vixens wouldn't look at me." '' Xature speaks loudly in the infant mind," sneered Eugene, with a look and tone of indescribable meaning, "^ it's a wise child knows its own father ? " Conway's face 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 dan- gerous liiiiit kindling in his dark eve. " Speak a little plainer, Eugene; innuendoes are cow- ardly things. Do you mean to sa}- " "I mean to say,'^ interrupted Eugene, returning the fiery glance with cool contempt, '' that I believe the letter, Mr. Conway Hazel wood may translate this as best suits him." ''Don't come to fisticuffs liere, you two," drawled Arthur ; " you'll spoil your clothes and dishevel your hair, aiul make frights of yourselves before Miss Thornton. By the way, Una, don't tell her what Eugene says. Conwav's cake will be dough." '• Which my dear brother Arthur would very much regret," said Conway, shrugging his shoulders and turning away with a short laugh: ''you always were a prudent fellow, Arthur, and I'll take your advice. Eugene and I won't spoil our clothes about trifles ! After eiglit, Una," pulling out his watch ; "are you almost ready ?" "I am quite ready," Uiui answered, but she lingered, still looking ;it her uiicle. That gentleman was staiuling looking in perplexity from one to the other of his sons, and Inilf indignantly at the keen smile on Doctor Lance's cynical lips. "Ami have you nothing to say to this charge before you go ?" he 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 examinig it closely. He folded it quietly now, and put it in his pocket. " I think it does — I think I have seen writing like this I THE BROTHERS. 33 act IKl, }f (ling this IP* before. It is well disguised, but with the permission of the compiiny I will keep the doeuineiit for a few days, at the end of which time 1 think I shall have found out Jill 1 want to know." '' God speed you in vour search I Xow be olf and don your wrappings — [ want to be early to-night." "■ Are you going to propose to ^liss Thornton ?" asked Arthur. ''No," said Conway, smiling; *'' I shall wait until she lias refused you first." " For shame, Conway ! " exclaimed Mrs. AVood ; " what will Doctor Lance think of you all, bickering in this numner V " **0h, don't mind me, I beg," exclaimed that littlo gentleman, in Jiis blandest tones; "I beg the young gentlemen will go on as usual, and never mind me." " And what am I to do with these little waifs, then ? " inquired Mr. Hazelwood ; '*' I hate to be im])osed on, or to seem to obey tlie 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 st^nd them without the least compunction now, I dare swear," said Doctor Lance, with his custonuiry cynicism. "Oh, don't think of the almshouse," said Eugene. "It never would do for the future lieiresses' of the llazelwoods to go there. Let them stay, by all means. They will make very nice parlor ornaments at a small price." His hat and overcoat were on his arms. lie began putting the former on, and Arthur to follow his exam[)le. Una came running down-stairs, in shawl and rigolette, carrying Conway's ; and Jenkins, the coachnum, made his appearance to let them know the carriage was waiting. "All right, Jenkins; so are we," answered Conway. Come along, L"na. Yes, father ; kee]) the little ones. There is no telling, as Eugene says, but they nuiy turn out to be your grandchildren, after all." His laugh was puzzling, but there was no guilt in his face. Arthur, butt /ning up his greatcoat, turned to follow Conway. " Are you not coming with us, Eugene ? " he inquired, i\ 34 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. seeing Eugene standing watching the twins, as if fascinated. "' Xo ; 1 jirefer to walk. I don't doubt but that Conway will enjoy tlie drive quite as well without me." Conwiiy, staiiding 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 triunvph in the light ones ! Then Con way, still with that doubtful smile on his handsome face, was gone, and Eugene was standing like a statue gazing at the children. "' Loving brothers ! '' Doctor Lance was sneering, inwardly. *'What a beautiful thing is family affection! Mr. Conwav had better t;ike care. 1 would rather have a sleuth-hound, on my track than Eugene llazelwood ! }) CHAPTER lY. THE APPLE OF DISCORD. A LOXG drawing-room, handsomely furnished, ablaze with lights, resoujiding 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 pres- ent, 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 home. One group at the upper end had formed a set, and were bowing and dipping through the Lnnciers ; 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 grand piano, halloo- ing some shrill operatic gem with piercing accuracy, to whoever chose to listen ; some stood in little knots hero and there, flirting and laughing ; some lounged on the sofas, ])laying wall-flower, and a few were wandering in and out of a conservatory opening out of the drawing- room. Over all, a German band, perched up in a gilded gallery, among the glaring gaslights, were thundering THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 35 forth dance-miisic ; and a vast Cliristnias-trco near the center of tlie apartment, ]»erfectly diizzling to look at, with Santa Chius, gray, withered and frosty, guarding it, told what the festival was they were celi'l)rating. Standing beside the Clirisniast-tree, a fairer '(uardian than old Santa Claus, flirting with half a dozen yonng men, was a briglit-eyed, rose-clieeked, piquant litlle lady, arrayed ii\ llowing amplitude of thiek satin under wliite tulle, blush-roses in her brown braids and corsage, and ii fan sparkling with its jeweled setting in her coquettish hand. It was Miss Helen 'J'horuton, beauty, belle and heiress, and a coquette born. You couhl see it in the diplomatic way she gave a smile to tliis one, a brilliant gUmce to that, a speaking droop of the eyes to the other, and a merry word to all ; but any one interested in watch- ing her could have seen she was waiting 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 the Hush that impa- tient waiting brings began to grow hot on her cheeks. It grew so palpable at last, that one of the admirers about her spoke : " Are you watching for the Marble Guest, ]\riss Thorn- ton, that you look so often at that door ? Who can tho favored one be, for whose coming that impatient watch is kept ? " Miss Thornton did not reply, but her face suddenly brightened, and a quick smile and flush 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 than its beauty, and a gentlemanly but languid- looking young man, sufficiently well-looking, with blonde hair and complexion, like the girl. Was it for tliese two jVIiss Thornton was waiting, then ? Hardly ; for her eyes wandered with a look of ex[)ectation once more to the door, even while she took an eager step forward to greet the young girl. ''You darling Una!" was her cry, kissing her v/ith young lady-like vim. " Why did you not come earlier ? I am tired to death waiting for you, and began to give you It 36 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I ;■ 11 ! h lip. llow do you do, Mr. Ilazelwood ? Merry Christmas to vou ! " '' You rni^ht treat uU alike," said Artliur, as she shook hands with liiiii. " I hope you Inve been waiting for me, too \'\ *' Wi:iS Thornton has been Avaiting for some one — I'll answer for that," said the young man who spoke before. *' Come along, ilazelwood, let's have a look at the dancers.'* '* Are you two alone ?" asked Miss Tliornton, looking at the door again. '^ Where's Eugene and — Conway ?" *' Conway's down in the cloakroom, talking to your father, and Eugene will be here directly. He did not leave the house with ns. 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, she best knew. Her jeweled fingers began playing with the glitter- ing trifles dangling and scintillating from its branches. " Yes, isn't it ? I had the greatest time choosing gifts and arranging them ever was. What kept you so late ? " '' Oh, the most wonderful thing was ever heard of ! Do you know some one left two children in our hall, to- night ?" " Two what ? " inquired Miss Thornton, ojiening her eyes. *' Two children 1 " '* Yes, two children, twins, and the prettiest ever were seen ! We don't know how they evd came there, or a thing about it. Susan, the chair'bermaid, found them as she was going np-stairs." *' Well, I declare ! Some poor person, who was not able to take care of them, and knew ho'v 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 ! Besides, tliere came a note with them — that is the 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 ! " '^ Wliat ! " exclaimed Miss Thornton, vividly interested. *' Y"ou don^t mean to say- }} I THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 17 'J y* *' Yes, I do, too ; and uncle called down the boys, find we all had a council of war over it before we came out. That's what detained us ! ^' said Una, laui^liing. *' Oh, my goodness, and what did they — wliat 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 thundercloud, and got into one of his tantrums. 1 do believe he suspect-s Conway." " Oh, Una ! " cried ^[iss Thornton, turning crii:ison, *Mt can't be true ! '' '' Of course not ; but it is just like Kngene to suspect Conway for everything, lie is as jealous as a Turk I"* '' What is he jealous about h '' asked Miss Thornton, putting on an innocent look. *' Y(ni ask I " said T'na, significantly. ''I should think you know better than I do, a poor simple little schoolgirl !" They both laughed. (*ertainly, she did not look very simple just then. ]\Iis3 Una Forrest was wise enougli in her generation. " J)ut about the children," said Miss Thornton, coniinjr back to that interesting subject. '*' AVas that all the letter said ? " *' It told their names — Evangeline jind ]*osamoiul — pretty, are they not ? Also that their mother's name was Starr, and that they were sent as a Christmas present by yours respectfully, Santa Claus. That was all !" " Well, it's the strangest thing I ever heard of. Of course, the assertion in the letter is false ? Your cousins denied it at once, did they not ? " "It was too absurd to denv. It was just a ruse of the person who left them to make uncle keep them. I heard Conway laughing over it with your f;ither down-stairs." " It takes them a good while to talk it over, it seems to me." snid ^Fiss Thornton, rather pettishly ; " here comes Arthur back again — what does he want ?" Arthur w\anted a partner — there was going to be a waltz ; would Miss Thornton favor him with her hand ? Yes, Miss Thornton was always readv for a waltz; but as she was taking the proffered arm she suddenly halted. Mr. Thornton, an old man of the same stamp as 'Slv. Hazel- 38 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. entering' with wood — '^frosty but kindly" — was just Conway Hazel wood. " Wait one minute, Mr. Arthur," was Miss Helen's cry ; " I want to speak to papa." [fad Mr. (Jon way llazelwood not been with papa, it is doubtful wliethor tlio young lady would have found it so necessary to stop on tluj verge of the waltz. The question slie had to ask was i^.ot very important ; but she got for lier pains a little tlirilling hand-clasp from his com.panion, and a glance from the dark bright eyes that brought all her roses into play. "What are you all about here ?" inquired Mr. Thorn- ton. "Why are you not dancing, Mr. Arthur ?" "I am going to, sir, as soon as Miss Helen is ready." " I am quite ready now. Oh, here is the other truant at last ! " Eugene was just entering. C on Avay glanced at him, and then at Miss Tliornton moving away with Arthur. " Engaged for the next quadrille ? IS'o ? Glad to hear it ! may I have the honor ? " ]\Iiss Tliornton, who would have been only too happy to have danced through life with the sjieaker, signified her assent, and was whirled away by Arthur. Half the people in the room were spinning round like teetotums ; and they floated in and out among them, until tired, and giddy, and flushed, 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 nice flirtation By tho liftlit of a chandelier, Witli 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 nnike a bargain ! How do you get on with my portrait ? " " 15ettor than I ever got on with a portrait in my life ; but such a sitter would make a Rubens of tho veriest dauber tliat ever smeared canvas." "Thank you, sir ! I was perfectly sure you would sny that,"^ said Miss Thornton, settling one of her bracelets with inlinite composure. '' You have made the same THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 39 }} speech to every young lady whose face you liave immor- talized, of course." *' IS'o — I ulwavs mean what I sav ! -' Miss Thornton laughed outright — a most musical and most incredulous little peal. Artluir looked at her, thinking liow pretty, and graceful, and rich slie was, and wluit a charming tiling it would be to carry her off from her host of admirers, with his two brothers at their head. " You don't believe me ?" he said. '^ Oh, to be sure I believe you ! Who could doubt a gentleman wlio always means what he says ? " '* Miss Thornton, I mean more than that ! "Will you believe me when I sav I love you ?'' " Ur. Hazel wood f" " It is true, Helen — I do love you ! ]\ray I venture to hope I am not absolutely hateful to you ? '' lie had gone through the formula with remarkable composure for a man whose heart's best affections, and so on, were at stake, and attempted at the close of his Inst speech to take her hand, l^ut 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 brother ! Pj-ay excuse mo." It was not the brother she wanted ; it was Eugene who came to her relief ; but slie took his arm with an alacrity not verv usual with her sex when KuL'-ene ITazelwood was concerned. Eugene's keen eye glanced from face to face, from the flushed and excited countenance of the girl to the deeply mortified one of his brother, and sav/ at once what had passed. It was a chni-aoleriKtic and striking trait of tlie Ilazelwood brothers tliat om; of them never ■wanted any- thing but the others were sure to cast a cov(»tous eye on the same. A look of determination settled on the dark face of the younger brother. 'Mt is very liot here — come into the conservatory a moment. You look flushed, ^liss Thornton !" *' I have promised todjince with CV)nway, hut I suppose I have a few minutes to spare, and it is rather oppressive here ! Is that Una singing * Ijove Not' ? No, it is Fanny Grant — how well she sings it !" "Love not! love not! Oil, warning vainly said!'* ! 40 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. i I Eugene repeated after the sing'er. " Mrs. Norton never vrote anything truer in lier life. It is an ohl fashion the world will adhere to to the hist." Miss Thornton looked at him an instant without speak- ing, and glanced away again ; but those piercing eyes read what her lips had not courage to speak Yes, j\[iss Thornton, I know how to love, though my dear live hundred friends will hardly give me credit for it. I am not the heartless Orson they take me to be, for, Helen Thornton, I love you ! '' ]\liss 'J'hornton absolutely screamed — it was so unex- pected to her, so almost shocking, from such a quarter. " Is that the way young ladies listen to such things, Helen?" he asked, bitterly, reading liis fate at once in lier undisguised terror; '"or is it only when an ugly liunchback proposes that they 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 uncomfortable way of making such a tender proposal. Ileltxi, with a white face and startled eyes, looked around her as if for somo moans of escape, but Eugene held her tight. '• Speak ! " he said, breathing hard, for he was of a most excitable temperament ; '' speak ! yes or no !"' ''Oh, Mr. Ilazelwood, my — oh, please don't be angry, but—but " " You refuse me, then ! Is that what you mean ? " " Oh, Mr. Ilazelwood, let me go ! Oh, Conway, I am glad you have come ! " The cry came from her frightened heart, and so did the eager spring she made toward some one who stepped from behind some tall plants. It was Conway Ilazelwood, cool, easy, nonchahint jis usual ; and Helen, really exceedingly terrified by Eugene's liery eyes, clung to him, as a woman will to the man she loves. Tlu.t little act, involuntary as it was, told her secret. Conway smiled a little as he drew lier closer to himself. "I beg you M'ill excuse me, Eugene," he said, looking at his brother, ''' hut I overheard your conversation with Miss Thornton. 1 could not help it, an/" I boi;- you will iu)t nuike a scene, as I see you are about to do. If you have anything to say to me, wait until we are alone. You THE APPLE OF DISCORD. 41 il linve startled Hiss Thornton sufficiently alreiidy. Come, Jh'len, I have been searching for you !" There was no mistaking Helen's eager willingness to obey, and they were gone altnost before Eugene knew it. He did not follow tlieni directly. He stood hv the window Conway had so lately left, looking out on the bright;, fro.ity night and gaslit street. 'J'he sounds of music and dancing, hiughing and merrymaking, came to his listening ears from the drawing-room ; but how tliese revelers would iiave started had they seen the black scowl on his brow, the terrible tire in iiis weird eyes ! For nearly Indf an hour he lingered there, brooding over his own ominous thoughts, and tlie!i he turned and walked slowly back to the ball-room. The first he met were Conway and Helen ; the girl clinging fondly to his arm, her pretty face all aglow with love, and pride, and happiness ; ho smiling, graceful, handsomer than ever. It was quite plain he had been following the example of his two brothers, and had mot with a very different answer. Helen Thornton had got all she wanted, and was for the time being i)erfectly happy. But perfect 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 i.i 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 Tlieater." " Oh, Conway ! how can you laugh ? I am frightened to death of him. I am afraid you and he will quari-el I " " We do that every day of our lives, jtclile. Dr. Watts sings of brotherly love — I v/ish he were in our house for a while to see how wo prac^tise it.^' ''Oh, Conway, don't fpiai-rel with him. ^lercy, don't! Promise me you will not." " [ will not il' I can help it ; don't make me ])romiso anything more. Come aivl sing for me, dearest ; there is nothing to wear that fright(Mied face about." Is there not? liCt your bride sing for you wliile sho may, Conway Hazel wood, for her singing days are nearly over. % 42 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. CHAPTER V. THE ITAZELnOODS AT HOME. i< i! It was after d inner in Mr. HazelwootFs. In tlie pretty (lining-rooni, " curtained, and close, and warm," a jriglit fire burned clieerily ; and in his cushioned armchair, in genial after-dinner mood, the head of the Hazelwoods sat. To be genial was Mr. Hugh Ilazelvvood's mood at all times, but this evening, in slippers and srnoking-cap, one leg crossed over the other, and the ruddy brightness of the fire casting its warm reflections on hu face, lie was looking even more genial than usual. Perhaps the fact of his whole family being assembled around him had something to do witli his state of felicity ; for his three sons were pres- ent. A very uncommon sight i.ideed it was to see Messieurs Conwjiy, Arthur and Euge!io Ilazelwood dining together at home ; and the fact of their being there this particular evening was probably owing to the circumstance of their father having given a dinner-party from which they could not very well stay away. The dinner was over, and the guests all gone now, and Mrs. Wood and Una had just made their appearance to inquire how the dinner had gone off. _ " Capitally, Emily," j\Ir. Ilazelwood was saying ; 'Miothing could have been better. The dinner, thanks to you aiul the cook, was perfection, and thawed out even our crusty friend Lance. By the way, Emily," with a mellow little laugh, *Mie used to be an old admirer of yours, wasn't he ? He's a rich man now, and von a fine woman yet ; who knows what may come of this visit, eh ?" Mrs. AVood, seated in state in another armchair opposite hor brother, her j.mple form rol)tMl in black silk, stiff, stately, and rustling, lllling it as if it wore made for her ; the firelight and gaslight glistening on her watch-chain, and I'ound, rosy, good-Uiitured face, her plump white lumds, cased in black lace mits, folded one over the other in her la]), actually blushed like a girl of eighteen. Conway, leaning against the mantel, his handsome face THE HAZELWOODS AT HOME. 43 flushed with the heat of the fire and his father's crusty old port, looked over at her witli a laugh. *' I thought the old fellow had some deeper object in coming here than merely to renew his acquaintanceship with the governor. So lie used to be one of your beaux, auntie I By Jove ! the idea of old Lance in love is as good as a play I " '' Nonsense, Conway ; liold your tongue ! Why shouldn't Dr. Lance full in love if he chooses, as well as [inybody else ? *' "Conway thinks," suid Una, who, robed in pale blue, and looking very pretty, seated on an ottoman, at her uncle's feet, with her [)rofuse light liair all combed back oil her face — " Conway thinks no one has a right to fall in love but himself, and it has become a chronic C(imi)laint with him."' Conway looked at the childish-looking figure of the girl with an odd look. *M\niat do you know about love, nni- demoiselle ? Little girls should mind their hornbooks instead of talking of the (jrande pciiision. Perhaps you have been taking private lessons, though, from — Eugene, for instance." Eugene, who sat at table playing soJilairCy and saying nothing, looked up at his handsome brother. '•' You would make the better teacher of the two, my good brother," he said. ^'It is your trade, you know. As nature never creates anything utterly good for nothing, the 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 lady-killer. It's the regular profession of half the kid-gloved idiots of Broadway, and Conway Ilazelwood makes as good a sim])loton as the best of them." '' Xow, you boys, stop quarreling," intei-posod Mrs. AVood. '^ Can't vou be au'reeable for once. We don't enjoy your united society so often that you need fight when we are so blessed. Arthur, what are you doing ? Writing love-letters ?" ^'Drnwing Conway's portrait," lisped the artist, who had been sketching busily for the last few minutes. ^'Eugene, what do you think of it ?" •' An admirable likeness," said Eugene, with his bitter smile, and Una jumped up and ])eeped over his shoulder. " \Viiut a shame, Arthur ! You ought to have your I I! t 1 i I 44 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ears boxed ! What do you hhink, Conway ? he has drawn }0u with a donkey's head, kneeling before a set of simper- ing idiots, who are hmgliing at yon behind their fans ! Give it here, Eugene, until I tear it up/' The smile on Conway's fice 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 be jilted, Eugene ? Was it you or Arthur she refused first ? Ah ! you feel hurt, do yo;i ? The old proverb Avhich says : ' They laugh l)est who laugh last' is a wise one after all." Eugene's face turned as dark as a thunder-cloud, but Arthur only shrugged his shoulders and went on drawing caricatures of his elder brother. Conway turned his care- less, smiling fuce 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 aud settle down into a sensible man-ied man. I am about to take your advice. I am going to be married." " My dear boy, and to whom ? " Conway ran liis fingers through his luxnriant, curling 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 Thorntojj." There was a moment's silence. The eyes of Conway and Eugene met in a long and ominous glance ; the one shin- ing with that smile of triumph and detiance, the otlier terrible with hatred and menace. Arthur, trying to look easy and indifforetit, went on with his drawing, but his hand shook aJid his face ilushed. Una's blue eyes glanced stealthily from one to the other, and she alone saw the deadly menace in the fiery eyes of FiUgene. Mrs. Wood, to whom it was all news, opened iier eyes in innocent wonder, and Mr. llazehvood held out his hand to his eldest son in undisguised deliglit. " My dear Conway, I congratulate you with all my heart. You could not have chosen a bride more acceptable tome, had you tried until doomsday. Little Helen is the best I l- er k 13 THE HAZELWOODS AT HOME. 45 it and prettiest girl in Xew York, uiid old Tliornton is worth a mint of money. My dear boy, this is indeed pleasant news. When is the alTair to come off ? " " Do you mean my marriage, sir ? Very shortly 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 interview with him this morning, sir. He is as much pleased as you are." ''Iso doubt ; how could he be otherwise, having such a son-in-law," said Eugene, whose face had turned fearfully white, though his voice was as calm as ever. " Did you tell him, Conway, of our Christmas present ? Who knows but the mamma of those interesting babes may drop in to wish you joy on your wedding-day ?" '* With all my heart I I shall be very happy to see her, as any one should be to see his — sister-in-law ! She ought to be pretty too, judging by her oifspring, and I am never so happy as when in the society of pretty women. Tell her to come, Eugene, by all means I " ''Now, you boys'." JMrs. Wood once more shrilly in- terrupted. " 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 are, she would jump into the fire, or cut her right hand off before she ever would sign her name Mrs. llazelwood." Eugene turned his dark, bitter face to his aunt, with an ominous smile, j^rophetic of future evil lighting it still. '* Eest easy, my good aunt ! Miss Thornton may remain ignorant of the heavenly life of brotherly unity wo lead here, and still never sign lier name ]\[rs. Conway llazelwood. When there are two moons in yonder sky, my dear older 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 a wise old proverb which tells us barking dogs seldom bite ! " " And there is another proverb, equally wise, which says there is many a slip between the cup and lip." " Quite true ! We may all die and be in our graves before that time ; but unless something of that kind n 46 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. occurs, Helen Tliornton will as certainly be my wife before another month, as that Eugene Hazelwood was jilted by her on Christmas eve. ISpare your threats, Eugene, I am not afraid of you ; for whatever wonderful event stops our marriage, it is niost assuredly not of vour power to do it ! " _ " Til at remains to be seen ! A great deal meiy happen in a montli I Helen Thornton did refuse me, did refuse Arthur, and did accept you on Christmas eve ; but it is all labor lost. Siie may not be my wife. I would not marry her now if I could ; but,^' and he rose from his seat, with a woUish glare in his fiery eyes, " l)ut, Conway liazolwood, she never will be yours I Do you hear — never ! " The rest stared aghast, but careless Conway, leaning negligently against the mantel, still retained his provoking smile. " Quite tragic that, upon my word ! What are you going to do, Eugene — murder us both ? " There is many a true word spoken in jest ! Not one there but remembered that question so lightly spoken, in the terrible after-days. Eugene did not answer, only ghired at his brother in silence, and in either eye sat a devil. Even languid Arthur, despite the flimsy state of all his emotions, looked rather pale and startled ; and Mr. Hazelwood rose from his chair, white and stern. " Boys," lie 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 ])resence. Shame on you, Conway ! It is well your mother is in her grave before slie ever lived to hear her first- born, her favorite son, talk to his younger brother like tliis ! Shame on you, Eugene, to allow your jealousy to carry you so far ! Where is your boasted wisdom 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 ! " He sunk 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 remorseful face. ** Father, forgive me. I should have remembered before whom I was speaking. Come, Eugene, forget and forgive. THE HAZELWOODS AT HOME. 47 Ir. to • IS, cr 111 re le. We both of us say more than we mean, I am sure !" lie held out his hand, but Eui^cne turned gloomily away. " So be it, then," said Conway ; " war or peace, it is all the same to me, but J shall obey you, fatlier. In your presence such a scene shall never take place again." There was a tap at the door, and a rosy little nursery- maid presented herself with a courtesy to Mrs. Wood. "If you please, ma'am, I wish you would come up to the nursery. I can't get Miss Hazel to bed, and she keeps them twins awake with her noise, and 1 can't do nothing with none of them." "There's Knglish for you, Una," s[iid Conway, cliuck- iug that young lady under the chin as he passed. '" Come along, auntie, I'll go with you to the nursery. I haven^t seem ' them twins ' since the night of their arrival, and I want another look at them." "Perfectly natural," said Eugene, in alow, mocking voice ; " who would wish to see them if their father would not?" Conway glanced at him coolly, no way daunted by his fiery stare. "At it ngain, my good brother. I don't think you will stop until you tempt tue to thrash you within an inch of your life — a feat you know I could easily accomplish ! Come along, auntie — accept my arm to the nurseiy ! Lead the way, Jane, we follow ! Good-night all, anl pleasant dreams I " "Good-night, Conway," 'Mr, TLizolwood :;;iid, kindly. "Good-night, cousin," I"^na repeated, nestling close to her uncle's side, and looking fearfully at Euncne. Even Arthur wished good-night, but the younger brother never spoke ; no elTigy in marble could have stood more dark an;l motionless than he. But handsome (*onway only smiled at him. and went out liumniing the refrain of an old Erench song : '• To-day for nie, To-morrow for tliee ! But will that to-uiorrow ever be ? '' '' And if ever I saw tlie old demon in any human face," saul Mrs. Wood, going up-stairs, and speaking in an tiwe- struck undertone, " it was in Eugene's to-night. Be careful, Conway ; he is savage anyway, and there a no ili 48 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. telling what jealousy may prompt him to do. Here \,'o are at the nursery. J)o liear the roars of those young ones ! and it's all my Hazel's fault, for the twins are h8 Come in." good as gold. I CHAPTER VI. TIIH WEDDIXG-XIGIIT. lii |i ! In that same pleasant room where the Ilazelwood family liad been assembled the night before, Mr. Ilazelwood, Ids sister, and niece sat at breakfast. A pretty little bronze clock on the numtel was just chiming eight — for the head of the llazelwoods liked early hours — and the yellow wintry sunshine streaming warmly through the curtained win- dows, fell brightly on the glittering silver and china ser- vice ; brightly on the ruddy, kindly face of ^Ir. Hazel- wood ; brightly on ^Mrs. Wood's satin ribbons and golden trinkets — for Mrs. Wood made a point of being alwjiys resplendent to look at ; and no less brightly on the pale- gold hair, delicate, white face, and pretty morning-dress of blue merino, trimmed with white, worn by the half Albino, Una Forest. The junior Messrs. Ilazelwood were not there ; it would Lave been most astonishing if they had been, and alto- gether out of the usual order of things. Eugene, though invariably, winter and summer, up at five, rarely left his room before eleven, and had his breakfast sent up to him at ten. Arthur never rose before nine, and then lounged down-town to his studio, and took his matinal meal thei-e. Conway, like Eugene, was an early bird ; but he was off, according to custom, for a breezy morning-ride through the park, and might possibly drop in to Mr. Thornton's for breakfast, or patronize a restaurant, or come home any hour before midday, as the humor took him. '^^IMie trio, then, at the breakfast-table, had no need to wait for the three truants, and went on drinking their toast and eating their muffins without them, quite as a matter of course. % M ■':S? I 1 .."•So THE WEDDING-NIGHT. 49 9- Mrs. Wood, at tlie head of tlie table, was liolding fortli to her three auditors with an energy and volubility that made her round, good-natured face, red enough at all times, ten degrees redder than ever. ''Ami what ever I'm to do with her I can't tell,'' she was saying. ** I've talked to her, and I've whipped her, and sent lier to bed with a spanking and no supper, and it's all no nse. It's worse she's getting, instead ot bettor, and she'll be the torment of my life — 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, help- ing himself; " and so is little Hazel. I like her all the better for having a little life. I never did like Solomons in pinafores, and never will. Let the child be lively and have her fling ; the world will sober her soon enough." " Have her fling I " cried Mrs. Wood, in tones of pier- cing 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 Ave 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- candy, and smeared her face with soot and mustard till she looked like a — like a — " (^Irs. Wood hesitated for a simile forcible enough) "like a live kangaroo, after you'd washed it, and if slie screeched and kicked till she turned black in the face, because vou wouldn't let her soak her slioes in her soup, perhaps you\l sing another song than Met 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 your cup, and I'll give you some more coffee." Una, looking quietly around, obeyed ; and Mr. Hazel- wood, quite quenched for the time being by this eloquent outburst, ate his steak and toast in pensive silence. Mrs. AVood, having replenished the empty cup, let her feelings get the better of her, and burst out again : "And there's them twins ! The life they lead with that little limb is too horrid to think of ! She wouldn't leave a spear of hair in their heads, or an eye in their faces, she wouldn't claw out, if she had her way ; aiul if she does not starve them yet, it will be a mercy, for they never get a thing she doesn't grab from them. Her fling, indeed I w. 50 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. .i! ii' And it's all Conway's fault ; he will fetch her cartloads of candy, in spite of every tiling I can say, and teach her to dance jigs and double-shuftles, and sing negro songs, and all sorts of wickedness ; and she minds him, and pays no more attention to me or Jane than if we were two old shoes I 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 lio more use talking to Conway than it is to Hazel — he only laughs in your face, and behaves worse the next minute than ever ! Come in ! " The last invitation was in answer to a rap at the door, and Susan made her appearance with a little thrue-cor- nered note. ^' It is for you. Miss Una," she said, delivering it ; " the postman has just gone." Una tore the perfumed note open, and ran over its contents. " Who is that cocked-hat from. Snowbird ?" inquired Mr. Hazel wood ; " not a love-letter, I hope ?" Una laughed. " It sounds like one, uncle. Listen, and I'll read it to you." My own dear, darlixc; Una : — I suppose Conway — dear, dear Conway — has told you all before this. Oli, I am jnst the happiest girl in the world, and I want you to come and see me right away. You are to be bridemaid, you know. Won't that be charming ? When you come, my dearest, bring those 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 JMiss Thornton, eh ? Well, go, of course, and take Jane and the little ones along. It's quite natural I say, Emily," " isn't it fortu- littie Xelly should want to see them. leaning over the table, his face all aglow nate Conwav is ('•oinu" to make sucli a nialch ? Do vou know, now, I always was afraid of that 1)oy*s gcung and throwing himself away on an opera-dancer, or an actress, or something of that sort. Thank Heaven ! his choice has fallen on Helen Thornton ! " " And it never would have fallen on her," said Mrs. AYood, shortly, '' you may depend, only his two brothers THE WEDDING-NIGHT. 51 wanted her. Oli, tlu'y're a precious lot of 'em, fighting for everytliin^r, like so many curs over u bone ! " Mrs. Wood, despite her good-nuture, was inclined to use very forcible language sometimes, and had, when roused, a decided tenip^/ of lier own. Keep on the right side of her, and she was sweet as surnnier-chcrries ; cross her, and — well, you must ta' e the conse(juences. Mr. llazelwood, being a sensibk' man, never presumed to con- tradict her at such times, and now tinished his coffee and arose. " I believe I have some letters to write to-day. and it is time I was at tliem. AVliat a nuisance letter-writing is I Una, irive mv love to little Nellv, and tell her I'll be down in the course of the day to give it to her in perso!i." Mr. llazelwood sauntered to tlie library, Mrs. Wood bustled otf to attend to her housekeeping duties, and Una went up to the nursery to tell Jane to dress the twins and liold herself in readiness to accoinpany her to Miss Thorn- ton's. Tiien she tripped up to her own pretty chamber to array herse'u in street costume, and half an hour after re- appeared, looking very fair and charming, in a most be- coming hat with blue ribbons and white idumes, a dark- blue velvet cloak trimmed with white furs, that set off her satin-smooth skin and redundant light hair to perfection. "Are you ready, Jane?" she inquired, opening the nursery duor. Yes, Jane was quite ready, and so were Misses Rosamond and Evangeline. Very lovely the two latter young crea- tures looked, in short frocks and capes of rose-colored merino, elaborately braided, their long black ringlets, freshly curled, falling from beneath crimson hoods, their eyes like black stars, their cheeks rosy flame. If ow to tell one from the other seemed a mystery 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 the strong likeness puzzled every one else. They followed Jane now down-stairs aftei- Una, aiul got into a little carriage that Conway had sent home for their use. The distaiice to ^Lr. Thornton's was short, the day mild and sunshiny, and Una was a good walker. As they went down the avenue, every one tliey met turned to look after the pretty girl in blue, and the two beautiful chddreii 52 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ill rose and crimson. Una retnrned every look with an American girl's cool stare, until she reached her friend's liouse. A servant in liverv admitted them. Miss Thorn- ton was at home, and as Una was sending np her card, came flying down-stairs, in a white morning-wrapper, and in a state of deliglited excitement, and, catching Miss Forrest in her arms, kissed her rapturously a dozen times. " You darling girl ! how good of you to come right away after receiving my note ! Oh, Una ! isn^t it ail delightful, and ain't you glad ? " "Very glad, Helen, and so are all at home. Uncle sends his love, and says he will come to see you sometime to-day." " What a kind soul he is ! isn't he, Una ? Oh, are these the twins ? Why, what a pair of beauties they are ! Oh, Una I they are perfectly lovely I" *' Yes, they are very pretty. Do you think they look like any one you have ever seen ?" Miss Thornton looked up with a sly little laugh. " They look like the Hazelwoods, Una ! I begin to be- lieve that note after all." "' Oil, nonsense I Jane, you can wait here. Let us go up-stairs, Helen ; you can inspect tiie little ones there at your leisure." Miss Thornton, holding one of the twins in her arms, led the way to her boudoir, while Uiui led the other by the hand. Here, propitiated by slices of plumcake, Miss Evangeline and Rosamond allowed themselves to be in- spected without protest. "Oh, they are perfect loves!" IMiss Thornton, who was a little of the gushing order, cried rapturously. *' Such splendid eyes, such beautiful curls, such a lovely complexion ! Do you know 1 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 ! Oh, Una, isn't he divinely hand- some, and won't Fanny May, and Rose White, and all the girls go mad with envy when they hear of it ; lialf of them wore dying for him, I declare ! " Una knew very well that half of the young ladies in her seat would have given a year of their lives to stand in Helen Thornton's shoes,raid she laughed her sof t,lovv laugh. 4%' THE WEDDING-NIGHT. 53 i I " More fools they ; he isn't such a prize. There ; don't trouble yourself to get angry, Helen ; I know liim better than you do. When is it to come off ? " " The wedding ! Oh, the day has not been named yet ; but it will be soon, I suppose. Conw!iy is so impatient, you know ; and you, you dear, darling Una are to be bridemaid, first bridemaid, too ! Won't that be nice ? One wedding makes many, they say ; who knows but it may be your turn next ? " " Bah I I am oidya schoolgirl ! What would uncle and auntie say if they heard you talk like that ?" ''Your uncle talks like that himself. Papa says he in- tends you for Eugene." The milk-white skin of Miss Forest could by no possi- bility redden, but there came a strange glitter into her pale bine eyes at this allusion. '' 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 I" ]\riss Thornton cried, lowering her voice and glancing at the door, as if she expected to see the dark, gloomy face of Eugene IFazelwood there. " I shall never forget his look that night, as longns I live ! Oh, Una, 1 ctin't tell you how frightened J a!ii of him ! Don't you marry him for any one. I would as soon nuirry a wild Indian." "I won't marry him," Una said, quietly, 'Sand I am prett} sure I will never be asked. Kosie, you are soiling all your dress with that cake — throw it away." Miss IMiornton was instantlv off on another track, and in raptures again. " What a love of a name ! Rose of the AVorld and Evan- geline ? Eve-star you ought to call her. Oh, wliat piits they both are ! Do you know, Una, when Conway and I come back from our bridjd tour, I mean to nuike him adoi)t them both. I should love to have two sucli beauties to dress and pet ! " " Perhaps, too, you think, like Eugene, that Conway has the best right to them." Helen laughed good-naturedly. " N'importe, ma cliere. Tiiey look like the Ilazelwoods, I tell you ; anybody with eyes can see it ! Come, try and rv. !| 54 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. speak. What's yonr name, love ?" taking one of them in her arms. '^ Wliich 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 ?" " More ! " was the little one's answer, like a female Oliver Twist, as she pointed to the cake-plate ; *' more cake I " ''No ; she must not have any more," said Una ; ''she will be sick ! There, send her home with Jane — she can't tell you anytliing about her mamma. I wish she could ! Shall I ring for Jane to take them liome ?" " You may ring if you like ! I want you to go shop- ping with me ; I have got such lots and lots of things to buy. Oh, my gracious ! I shall wear white of course, Una, and you had better wear pink ; you are so vciy fair it will become you better than anything else. Good-by, darlings ; kiss me before you go ! " The twins, grateful^ 2)erhaps, for the devoured cake, kissed the bride-elect, and allowed themselves to be led off bv their nurse. The shop})ing that day was a weighty affair. jMiss Thornton came back with the carriage full of parcels and lier ])urse several hundred dollars lighter than when she started. Una staved till late in the afternoon, and then put on her hat to go home. C'onwav is cominf>: this evening, and the time is to l)c lixed," was Helen's parting addre:5S. "I'll nuike him tell you as soon as lie goes back ! Good-by, love ; come back again to-morrow. I shall be so busy I can't get on with- out vou." Una did not see Conwjiy that evening. It was the " wee sma' hours ayont the twal," as usual, before his latchkey turned in the lock, and he went whistling up-f,tairs to bed ; ])ut next morning, on her way down to breakfast, she es- jiiod his door ajar and pee])e(l in. '• Is it you. Conway ? Il:ive you any message for me ? " Conway, busily arranging his cravat at the mirror, turiuMl round. " Good morning, Mademoiselle. Yes, 1 believe Helen sent you word to be ready at three this at'ternoon, to go sho])ping with her. 8he will call for you in the carriage." "And when is the ijreat event to come off ?" « rv THE WEDDING-NIGHT. 55 f> " In a fortnight, I believe. Oh, liang this necktie. I shall have to employ a valet, I believe, to dress nie de- cently." Una opened her light-blue eyes to their widest extent. '' Good gracious, Conway ! In a fori-jiight ? What a liurry you're in. Helen cannot get ready in that time." '* Yes, she can. She doesn't need to currv all the drv- goods in Xew York with her. She can get a full supply in Paris." " But it's so sudden. I had no idea." " ]S'either had 1 ; but you see, my dear, ' since it must be done, 'twere well 'twere done quickly ;' that's Shakespeare. The reason is, some friends of Helen start for Paris in a fortnight, and we want to go all together, like Brown's cows. There, that tie's fixed to perfection, thanks to patience aiul })erseverance I And now suppose we go down and trv Aunt Er.ilv's coffee." A little after three, the carriage of ]\Iiss Thornton drew up before Mr. Kazel wood's door, and Una, all ready and Wiiitiiig, was handed in, and the two young ladies drove otf, intent on that business wherein the hci'.rt of every woman dolii-liteth. And that was but the bef>"inninir of the O'd : every dav durino' the week saw the same transaction re- peated, as ALr. Thornton's check-book could abundantly })r()V(^ Upholsterers, dressmakers, and milliners filled the house. Una became domiciled there altogetlier. Miss Thornton by no possibility could exist without her in such a trying time. The rumor of the nnirriage became noised abroad, and Fifth avenue had a co})ious theme to gossip about at its morning-calls and evening-reunions. Tiie course of true love was flowing as smoothly as a mill-dam, not even the faintest zephyr to ruflle its sunshiny surface, not o!ic faint shadow of the black cloud gathering so swiftly and terribly, darkening its radiance. Eugene llazelwood's threats seemed to have evajiorated into empty air — tliat young gentleman himself had disa})peared sud- denly from public view, had gone olT on some wild-goose chase or other, and deprived the Empire City of the light of his countemmce altogether. Arthur lounged more thnn ever in his Jiroadway studio, smoi i more cigars ami drank more pale sherry than was good for him, but otherwise seemed in no danger of injuring his constitution from be- ing crossed in love. So all went merry as a marriage-bell, s i t l' I 56 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. and the fortnight flew by on rosy wings, and the happy day dawned all suiisliine 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, bewild- ering in bridal white, her bridal veil and wreath on her head, and Una Forest looking like a pale rosebud in pink and white, at tlie head of a bevy of bright- faced bridemaids, similarly attired. They were all laughing and chatting together when a servant came to the door with a note. "Forme," said Helen, in surprise ; 'Mvho brought it, Uny ? •' The postman had brought it, the girl said ; and the brido tore it open, and uttered an exclamation as she read it. *' What a strange note! Read it, Una." Una took it and read : "Let Miss Thornton be in the conservatory a quarter after ten on her weddin<>"-morning< and wait there for a visitor, who will tell her a secret of the utmost im])ortance. She must be alone, as the secret is for no ears but hers. Let nothing prevent her complying, or something will pre- vent her marriage. She need have no fears. This note comes from A Friend." " Anonvmous ! " said Una. " What will von do ? " (( 1 should like to go," said Helen, looking iiitensely curious. *' Is it not mysterious ? W^ho can it be from, and what can the secret be ? " " I haven't the faintest idea. It contahis a threat, too, if you do not comply. Perhaps you had better show it to your father." " Oh, no ! Pai)a never would let me go, and my curios- ity is excited. I'll tell vou — don't say anything to the rest about it, and I will go, and make Lisette keep watch at a safe distance. I would ffive the world to know what the secret is." " Well, if you think tliere is no danger ?" Helen lau"hed. "Danger I Yon little goose I in broad daylight, and in my fjither'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." THE WEDDING NIGHT. 57 *' You won't wait loner ? )> • i '' Xo. If my mysterious visitor does not make her or his appearance by luilf-past ten, I will wait no longer. Be off now, while 1 go to the conservatory ; it is a quarter ptist ten now.'* Una and Helen went out together, telling the flock of bridemaids they would soon return. Ten minutes, and May, the chambernuxid, reappeared. *' Miss Helen, there is a gentleman — why, she is not here I" '^Xo,"' said one of the young ladies ; *^ slie has gone with Miss I'orest to the conservatory. Has Mr. Hazel- wood come ? " '" Yes, Miss, but it's Mr. Eugene, not Mr. Conway ! In the conservatory. Fll bring him up ; he says he wants to see her on important matters." May hastened off, and Una entered a few minutes after alone. " Where's Helen ? " the girls asked. '' It's half-past ten ! Isn't Mr. Hazel wood come yet ? " " Xot that I know of. It is time enough ! " " Perhaps something has happened, and his brother has come here to tell her ! " " His brother ! Is Arthur here ? " " Xo. Eugene. He told the servant his business was ijnportant, and she has sliown liim into the conservatory. I tliought you were there with Helen." Una looked at the speaker. *' Eugene ! Impossible ! Eugene is not in the city ! " "^ Perhaps he has returned. May said it was Eugene ; and she knows him very well. Oh, my 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 ]\Iay, for the third time. " Old Mr. Ilazelwood and Mr. Conway are down-stairs ; and jVIr. 'I'liornton sends his compliments, and says it is a quarter of eleven, and time the young ladies were down- stairs." **May," Una asked, hurriedly, ^'are you sure it is my cousin Eugene who is with Miss Helen in the conserv- atory ? " II u • I 1 58 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ^' Yes, Miss ; but he's not there now. He is just gone ; he only staid ti few minutes." Una turned hastily, and without a word, in the direc- tion of the conservatory. Its glass doors lay wide open, and as she entered slic saw Helen Thornton at the further end, half-lying, half-sitting on a lounge, her face drooped on the pillows, her wlnte bridal-dress falling around her like a cloud. Her strange position and stillness struck an ominous chill to the girFs heart. " Helen ! " she called. But Helen did not stir. ^' Helen ! " she repeated, drawing nearer. '' But tlic bride never moved. There v.-.is a peculiar odor through the apartment that couhl be perceived even fibove the perfume of the flowers, the odor of bitter almonds. Una noticed it distinctly, as she bent over tlie still, white form. '" Helen I Helen !" she cried, catching her by the arm. *' Oh, Helen ! what is the matter ?" She dropped the arm and recoiled in horror, even while she spoke. No need to ask what was the matter. On her bridal morning, in her bridal robes, Helen Thornton lay before her — dead ! Quite dead ! Growing cold already, with foam-crusted lips and ghastly, distorted face — stark and dead ! CHAPTER VII. THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. Conway Hazelwood, like a true lover, never so happy as when in the presence of his idol, had spent his wedding- eve at the house of his bride-elect. It had been a very pleasant evening, and Conway had stayed late. Una was there, and so were the three other pretty bridemaids, and three or four young gentlemen, cousins of Helen's ; and there had been music, and dancing, and singing, and champagne, and a little flirting ; and altogetlior, Conway had a very agreeable time. The clocks of the city were striking the hour of midnight— tliat most solemn of all honr!=!. the mysterions link, between night and day — as he walked down Fifth avenue with a happy glow at his heart. m THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. 59 The night was mild and moonlit, and, late as it was, Con- way sauntered past his own home, without going in. Jle looked up at it as he went by ; but one light burned in the whole front, and that to his surprise, came from the room of Eugene. '' Can that tender younger brother of mine have returned from his pilgrimage ? " was his tliought ; *' but no ; "' sup- pose it is my worthy au-^t, or one of our satellites, the housemaids. I think I know what wild-goose chase the dear boy has been en — God speed him in his search ! " lie 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 aristocratic avenue ; he met no one save a solitary *' guardian of the night," waiulering 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 step ; 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 ; a man who had dogged him since he left the house of his betrothed, skulking in the shadow always — treading with cat-like softness — slouciliing under the sliade of houses, stopping when he i^lackened 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 ])edes- trians enough were passing up and down to enable the skulking shadow in the overcoat to follow unnoticed. He seemed to have lost the wisli to do so, however ; for as Conway loitered for a second on the pavement to 2)ro- duce a fresh cigar, he came up and addressed him : ** (rood-night, sir ! I iiave tlie honor of speaking to Mr. Conway Hazelwood, have I not ? " Conway turned and looked at him, but tlie muffler, the long coat, jind slouched hat baffled recognition. *' Y'ou have the advantage of me, my good fellow, whoever you are," he said puffing away coolly at his newly-lit cigar. "' Whicli I mean to keep — since it is of no consequence to you to ki^ow who 1 am ! To-morrow is your wedding- day, Mr. Hazelwood ? " h I 1 ' i ; 60 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 7) " It is. Have you come to forbid the marriage ? Could careless Conway have seen the devilish light that leaped iuto the eyes under the slouched hat attlie question he miglit iiave recoiled from it in horror, fearless as he was. lie did not see it, however ; and the strange man's voice was as calm as his own, when he answered : " No ; Avith Mr. Ilazelwood or liis marriage I have noth- ing to do. I am merely the agent and emissary of {mother — a friend of yours, who for to-night only desires to re- main unknown. That friend has a secret for your ear, a most important secret, which may influence your wliole future life. That friend will be at the residence of your bride to-morrow morning to meet and tell it to you. The ceremony takes places at eleven ; at half-past ten, then, he desires you will meet him in the conservatory ; at all events be there a quarter before eleven. It is a matter of life-and-death importance on which he would speak — it is also to be kept a })rofound secret — you are to tell no one of this matter until you have heard all to-morrow. The reasons for this secrecy will ex[)lain themselves, he bids me say, when you have heard what he has to reveal." They had been walking on side by side all this time — the stranger speaking rapidly, and Conway's face a sight to see in its astonishment and mystification. Now he took the cigar from his li})s and stopped resolutely on the side- walk, staring at the speaker. " My most mysterious friend, what on earth is all this lecture about ? Are you rehearsing a scene from the last melodrama, or are you an escaped lunatic ? You have been talking now for the last ten minutes, and I give you my word I was as wise before you began as 1 am now at the end. Speak out, man, whoever you are, if you have anything to say. Who is this mysterious unknown, and jj what mighty secret is to bo revealed to me ? *'' You will learn that when to-morrow comes ! I have fu filled my task ; yours is a very easy one. Permit me to bid you good night ! '' " Not so fast, my friend." said Conway, collaring him suddenly ; " you are a great deal too romantic and inter- esting a personage to be parted with so easily. Come, sir ! off with that >at, and let us see what manner of mau you are ! " " You need not strangle me, then," said the stranger, THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. 6r partially lifting his hat and showing Conway a shining bhick face beneatli. " I hope you'll know me when we meet again. Good-night, Mr. Hazel wood ; I wish you and your bride all sorts of joy I " With a sudden etl'ort he jerked himself free, and, turn- ing 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, lie 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 ! 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 century and I am in Broadway ! It carv't be Eugene ; it was neither his voice nor figure, but it may be some trick of his. By Jove ! I've hit it ! 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 aloud, taking off his hat, *' don't you hope I may go there ?" A Fifth avenue stage was passing — he hailed it, and was set down at his own door. He looked up at the window from which 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 his latchkey and went noise- lessly up to his room. '* I will find out to-morrow whether Eugene has returned or not, ' was his last thought *' now to sleep and to dream of Helen's bright eyes and to-morrow's happiness ! " To-morrow's happiness indeed ! Well for Conway Hazel- wood he knew not what that momentous to-morrow was to bring, or his slumbers would scarcely have been so peace- ful and prolonged. His watch was pointing to the hour of nine before he opened his eyes on this mortal life, and sprung up in con- siderable consternation. "Nine o'clock, by George ! I should have been up and if il-li ; *^ 'I !^ i V. 62 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. doing two hours ago. It will be after ten now before 1 iini dressed and at Helen's !" Conway was his own valet, and taking a great deal of pains with his toilet, as people generally do on their wed- ding-day, it was, as lie had predicted, after ten before the ceremony of dressing was completed, and he lounged out very unnecessarily handsome, drawing on his gloves as he went. Mrs. Wood mot 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 jift(;r ten, and vou 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 unconunonly near forgetting it, I allow. Has Eugene nuide his a})pearance yet ? " *' Eugene ! Why, has he returned ?" '* Just what I intended asking you. I saw a light burn- ing in his room last night, and took it for granted he was here." " Perhaps he is ! Just wait a moment and I'll see ! " Eugene's room was near Conway's. Mrs. Wood rapped at the door, but there was no answer. She turned the handle, but it was fast. " lie must have come. No one ever locks his door but himself I I wonder where he can have been this long time." Conway laughed again as he ran down-stairs. ^* Hunting for last year's snow ! I hope he may find.it. CTOod-by, my dear aunt ; there will be a Mrs. Hazelwood in the world before you see me again, and your good-for- nothing nephew will be a sober, sensible, steady married man." *' You sober, indeed I" said Mrs. Wood to herself , as his lijindsome, laughing face vanished. *' Married or single you will always be light-hearted, hot-headed Con- way. I hope the boy will be happy, anyway, for he is the best of them all I " It was nearly half-past ten when the bridegroom entered the house of his bride. Her father met him in the hall and held out his hand with a smile. "We were beuinnini!; to think here that the ever-gallant Conway Hazelwood was going to lose his character, and i THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. 63 become like the bridegroom in tlie song, * a laggard in love.' "i3etter late than never, though. Come into the library and take a glass of wine. Yon will need it to keep up your courage in the trying ordeal you are about to pass tlirough," *' An ordeal without which life would not be worth hav- ing," laughed Conway. " Helen, I suppose, is invisible." *' For the next twenty minutes, yes. There is a crowd up-stairs in the drawing-room, and she is in the hands of her bridemuids. By the way, where is Arthur — very odd he is not here ! " Conway shrugged his shoulders. *•' Lounging in his atvlier, as usual. The fellow is the verv incarnation of laziness, like the rest of his Bohemian tribe." *' Too bud both he and Eugene should be absent ; it looks strange on such an occasion. "Where did you say Eugene was V " " I did not say he was anywhere, my dear sir, for the simple reason that I don't know I One might as well try to account for the erraticness of a comet, as for that of my worth v vouusrer brother." "• Eccentric ! always was, always will be, but uncom- monly clever, smartest of the lot — begging your pardon, Conway ! Ten minutes to eleven — how tlie minutes are Hying ! Come up to the drawing-room, my boy ; the bride and her attendant nymphs will b;.; tliere directly." "My father is here, 1 suppose ?" Conway asked, fol- lowing him up-stairs. " Your father came half an — Ah I what is that ? " It was a wild, shrill shriek from the conservatory — a girl's frightened cry. Again it was re})eated, and both stood still in wonder in the hall. Once more, wilder, shriller the shriek was heard, and then a hgure in rosy gauze came living along the hall, rending the air with piercing screams. Conway caught the flying figure by the arm : **' Una I have you gone crazy ? What is the matter ? Has any one fainted ? " " Oh, Conway ! Oh, Conway ! " was all Una could cry, her eyes wild with horror, her whole figure quivering and thrilling like au aspen leaf. 111 f]^' 64 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ' ;r 1' I '! :^j! ** Miss Forest ! Good Heavens ! what has happened ?" Mr. Tliorntou gasped. ^MVhere is Helen? has ui'v- thing " lie stopped ; for Una, clinging to her cousin, burst into a wild fit of liysterical sobs. The drawing-room door flew open, and a startled crowd poured out ; the brideniaids, in curiosity and consternation, came flocking around her; the servants from below were coming u]) to learn tlie cause of the commotion. Every eye was fixed on Una Forrest, whose hysterical sobs alone broke the startling still- ness. Conway, very pale with some nameless dread, caught both her slender wrists in his hands, and looked steadily into her eyes. That concentrated and powerful glance mesmerized the girl into calmness. **Una, speak out ! What is the matter ?" '* Helen is not here," Helen's father said. '^ Where is Helen?" ''Dead ! " Una cried, with a last hysterical sob. *' Oh, Mr. Thornton, Helen is dead ! " It had been all silent enough a moment before — to de- scribe the shriek and commotion that followed Una's start- ling announcemeiit, would be utterly impossible. Mr. Thornton, speechless and paralyzed, and Conway deadlv white, were the calmest of all. He was still hold- ing 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 ! Oh, Conway ! she is in the conservatory, dead ! murdered ! " ** Murdered!" a wild chorus of voices repeated in horror ; and then, by one impulse, a universal rush was made for the conservatory. AH but Conway — the word " conservatory " stunned him, and he stood perfectly still, grasping Una, and looking into her frightened blue eyes us if he had forever lost tlie power of gazing elsewhere. It was impossible for the girl's Albino face to turn any whiter than Nature had made it, but her very lips were blanched with fear. ** Oh, Conway!" she said, in a terrified whisper, *'Euofene has been here !" Eugene ! " He was alone with her in the conservatory. She went ^ THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. 65 ■•I I ill there well and full of life. Less than half an hour after when 1 went to look for her, I found her lying tliere — dead ! " No marble statue could have worn a face whiter or more rigidly set than did the bridegroom ; no liands in frozen death could have been more icy than those grasping her tortured wrists. But life, terrible and intensely burning life, shone in those large dark eyes. " lie was alone with Helen in the conservatory," he re- peated, his very voice changing so that she scarcely knew It. '' Oh, Conway, yes ! Oh, Conway " '' Has he gone?" '' He left a few minutes before I went in and found her " The hysterical sobs commenced again, checked in their commencement, however, by an appalling biglit. Five or six gentlemen were approaching, bearing between them the convulsed form of Mr. Tliornton, foaming and writh- ing 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 f. ce, turned steadily to the scene of the tragedy. The large room was full, but every one made way for him. Xo one but her father had dared to touch her. She lay still as Una had found her ; and an eminent physician, who chanced to be among the guests, was bending over her. One glance at the face told the whole story — his bride was no longer his, but the bride of Death. He made no attempt 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 ominously in his eyes. *' She is quite dead ? " he asked. " Quite," said the medical man, looking up ; " a terrible crime has been committed here. The young lady has been poisoned ! " " Ah ! poisoned." " Yes, she has evidently swallowed a dose of prussic acid strong enough to kill a horse in a few minutes. F?*iends, a horrible murder has been committed — it is no time to stand idle — who can the murderer be ? " Conway Hazelwood turned out of the room with the ii^ I- I' J I 11 66 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I ' I I' i :' same steady step lie had entered took his hat and left the house. Ten minutes later, he was standing in his own, and encountering his aunt face to face in the lower hall. ''Gracious me, Conway ! What brings you here? And. what on earth is the matter — you look like a ghost ! " He stopped on his way up-stairs, and looked at her. "Have you seen Eugene ? Has he been here? ' " Yes, and he is hero yet. He is up in his room pack- ing something for another journey, I suppose. Has any- thing hap " Through the hall-window Conway saw two policen :i passing. Another instant, and he had opened the :\or and hailed them. One of them knew him, and touched his luit. " Anything wrong, Mr. Hazelwood, that you want us ? AVhat can we do for you, sir ? " " I want you to make an arrest. A great crime has been committed to-day, and the perpetrator is heve ! Aunt tell one of the servants to call a cab. I shall want it directly. This way, gentlemen." In a i)erfect trance of amazement and bewilderment, Mrs. Wood stood looking after her nephew and the two officials going up-stairs, quite incapable of giving the order he had left. A little negro boy, who did the errands of the house, clianced to be within liea;.'ing distance, liowever, and ran off for the cab at once. '' What's the crime that's been committed ?" one of the policemen asked, on their way up-stairs. " Murder ! " was the stern response. *';Murdcr?" repeated the policenum, aghast. ''And do you mean to say, Mr. Hazelwood, the murderer's here?" '' I do ! He is in this room ! " said Conway, knocking loudly at Eugene's door. It was opened at once, and by Eugene himself. He had been, as jMrs. Wood had said, packing up, for a trunk, half-filled, was open, and the floor was stre\vn with olotho.-i, dressing-cases, and articles of all kinds. He looked in unfeigned astonishment from his brother to the policemen. *' Conway ! you here ! What does this mean ? " It means shoulder, "that Conway cried, grasping him by the you are a prisoner. You thought to i # THE TRAGEDY BLACKENS. 6j if'i in leii. the to escape, did you ? Well, you have failed. Take him, men — a cjib is waiting below I " Eugene, strong as a young Hercules, shook him indig- nantly olf. •'Are you mad, sir? Your prisoner! On what charge ? '' " Tliat of murder ! You liave liopt your threat well, Helen Thornton is dead ; but, by Ileavon, you sliall hang for it as high as Hainan, were you ten brothers of mine ! " Eugene stood looking at him, utter and unfeigned amazement and consternation written in every feature of his face. '' Helen Tliornton dead ! Have you, indeed, gone mad, or liave I ? Why, it is not over half an hour since 1 left her, alive and well ! " ''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 ? Wiiere are you taking me to ? " To the scene of your guilt — to Helen Thornton's house. Take him, I tell you, men, whether he resists or not ! " Eugene turned calmly to the policemen. '* All this is Greek to me, but I will go, if only to find out what all this mystery means. Go on ; I will follow." The cab was at tlic door ; the four entered, and in silence were driven to the house — an hour ago of merriment, now of death. Conway strode on to the dining-room ; Eugene followed, in charge of the two policemen. The s})acious room wiis a srciie of the utmost disorder, excitement and confusion — everybody had ilocked back there. The phy- sician wlio had informed Conway that the bride had been poisoned, was talking to a knot of fru-nds. '' She has been poisoned — murdered, 1 repeat I Our first r>bject now must be to discover the murderer 'i'' '* Jle is here !" cried Conway, in a voice that rung like a trumpet through the room, as he stepped forward, with liis hand on Eugene's si oulder. *' 1 accuse my younger brotlier, Eugene Uazehvood, of the murder of Helen Thornton!" ' 68 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. CHAPTER VIII. I ■ I ii 'T,i THE LAST J) ARK SCENE. A PRTSON-CELL, dark {uid nnrrow, the slanting rays of tlie ruddy sunset, tinging witli gold the iron bars of the grated window, and falling in bright patches on the cold stone floor; its very briglitness and beauty seemed crudest mockery in such a place, as it lay in shining })atches on the rude truiulle-bed, on the ban? deal table and the Bvilitary chair tliat completed the dreary cell's appoint- ments ; a crnel mockery to whatever 2)oor wretcli might be confined tliere, speaking, as it did, so forcibly of the bright, free world outside. A man — a young man — no common felon, either, for he bore the unmistakable impress of a gentleman — walked i\p and down the cell's narrow limits, his hands crossed behind liim, his head sunk on his breast, his black brows con- tracted in a desperate scowl. The prisoner was Eufi-ene tigers tread llazelwood ; and as you have seen caged ceaselessly ii.nd savagely up and down their barred cages, he, with much the air of a sullen, ferocious, human tiger, strode his. It had all passed like a horrible nigi tmarc — the first shock of amazement, horror, incredulity, ilie post-mortem examination, the cr»roner's iinpiest, th*» trial, the frightful array of circumstantial evidence, tliat as if by magic, and confounded eveti the most increduiou^. Throughout it all the elder brother had labored with a})- palling zeal to bring home the crime of niiirder w the younger. Conway llazelwood was as llrmly convincwl of Eugene's guilt as he was of his own existence, and tliiat conviction served in one hour to have complK^^ly o.iu*ti^d his whole nature. 'Vhe gay, careless, g^nceleS' <'onw;iy, the pet and darling of the ladies, was goin' fon.-ver ; and in his stead was a relentless, remorselc' unfeeling avenger, wliose stern motto was ''Justice liough the heavens fall ! " No bloodliound could have hunted down his prey more cruelly and unflinchingly ; through him arose tlie frightful chaiu of evidence, his mad lovo for THE LAST DARK SCENE. 69 ho Helen, bis madder jcidousy iind tlireats, his absence, liis return the niglit before, the mysterious note, evidently in a feigned hand, that had led the bride to the conservatory, his short visit, and the awful (ienonemeni Vinit followed his departure ; his nearest relatives had been the principal wit- nesses against hini — his aunt, his cousin Una, his brotlier Arthur — all horrified and unwilling, had to speak the words that condemned and branded him as the murderer ; the servant wlio had admitted him ; even his mediciil knowledge of poison — were conclusive proofs against him ; and if a last link were wanting, Conway supplied it, by re- hiting the snare that had been laid to foist tlie guilt on luni. He told the tale 0* the nocturiud encounter on Broadway ; he was positive now the man with the black- ened face must have been Eugene. So the examiiuition went on ; and the first amazement and incredulity gave })lace to horrible convictions, and Kugene [fazelwood was held to stand his trial for the wilful murder of Helen Thornton. The excitement was U!i[)re('e(lented ; new>!- papers were full of surmises aiul particulars : society lield up its hands in liorror ; somebody di'amatizcd the story, and the lucky manager who got the play had his house crowded every night for a mon^^^ Sensation-novelists wrought it up into thrilling tales, with embel'i.shments and decorations of their own, and the public devoured the bloodthirsty productions wholesale. 3Iurder becaTue all the fashion, and poisoning the favorite theme of gossip in every circle. People would listen to no opera but Lucretia ]5orgia, and all tlie city was on tiptoe, inipatif^nt for the coming trial. Frightful woodcuts, said to bo exact por- traits of ihe murderer, his victim, and bereaved l>rother, decorated every print-shop, and, if notoriety could impart comfort, Eugene Hazelwood was an enviable man. Throughout it all, he had been like a man stunned — like one who cannot realize what is piissing iiround him. Ho had pleaded Not Guilty — of course, the most guilty, as the (.'oroner rennirked, do that — but it had been in a b(Mvildored sort of way, and that IxMvilderment had lasted all through his trial. Some people might tliink it pro- ceeded from the stunning shoc^k of amazement at finding himself thus suddenly convicted of a crime lu; had never dreamed of, but very few were so charilable as to think that. Tlie proof was very clear ; the evidence wanted not Pi m I; iirl 4 1! 11 -'i ;o THE RIVAL BROTHERS. a link ; his own brother was his accuser ; his nearest rela- tives 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. Ke saw himself accused, condemned, deserted ; Fate, stronger tlian he, was against him ; and he became moody, sullen, and savage, refusing to answer questions — a dark and desperate man of whom the very jailers were afraid. They had been dreary weeks those, in some places ; those were in tiie home of Mr. Thornton, desolate and bereaved, with the broken-hearted father lying ill unto deatli, in tlie home of the Ilazelwoods, silent and darkened, wliere old Mr. Hazel- wood, shut up in his room, never saw any one. and battled with his grief and shame in proud solitude, where Una went through tlie dusky room like a little white ghost ; and Mrs. AVood declined taking her meals at proper liours, and cried till her eyes were as red as a ferret's, and her eyes and lier heart ached alike ; Arthur moped down in his gloomy studio and took to smoking harder than ever, some said to drinking also ; and Conway took lodg- ings witiiin 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 unhappy brother. Dreary weeks to all, but dreari- est in the lonesome prison-cell, wliere 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. Shuflling footsteps came along the stone corridor with- out, a key turned gratingly in the lock of his door, it swung back, some one entered, and it was slammed to again, ^j'iie prisoner turned round, and saw the white hair and bowed head of his kind old father. It was not that father's first visit, but Eugene gave no t()k(Mi of pleasure or welcome as he })ointed to the solitary chair, and resumed his march uj) and down. ]\lr. Jfazelwood sunk into the seat with a sort of groan. '• My ])oor l)oy ! To-morrow is the terrible day I have looked forward to in horror so long." THE LAST DARK SCENE. ;i i I Eugene looked at him, moodily. ** If I felt like thanking Heaven for anything, 1 sh(;iVi(\ be thankful that ic is so near. Let them do their worst, the whole of them ; that worst can be but hanging, and hanging is a thousand times preferable to the horrible ex- istence I have been dragging out here." " Oh, my boy ! my boy ! I am an old man, and why did I not die before I saw this dav ? " lie dropped his white head on the table, with another groan, but Eugene looked on with a strong eye. "I suppose you are all preparing your evidence against me for to-morrow. It is a consoling thought, that when I am condemned I shall have no one to thank for it hut my nearest relatives." " Heaven help us ! what can we do ? Oh, Eugene I is there no way of saving you ? Is there nothing that will tell in your favor ? " '* Nothing ! It has been clearly proven that I was the last one who saw Ilolen Thornton alive ; of course, then, I must be the assassin." "How c:in you speak in that mocking tone, Eugene ? Oh, why did you insist on seeing her that fatal morning ?" " I have already informed you, and my all-wise judges, to tell her a secret connected with her adored bridegroom. To tell her I could prove lie had one wife already in the land of the living, and two interesting 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 fal)rication ; and, of conrso, it will be. Let them do tlieir worst, curse thein ! " he cried, savagely, clejiching his fist ; '' I defy theni all ! " It was a disnud interview, but a short one; and ]Mr. Hazel wood returned to his home with a heart heavier, if possible, tlian when he had left it. He could not believe Eugene guilty, strong as the ])roofs were against him ; but he had little hope that either judge, jury, or pul)lic would join in his opinion. It was a miserable, a sleepless night to him, to them all ; but the sun rose at last on the day he dreaded to see. The most horrible thing about the whole horrible afl'air was that, as Eugene had said, his nearest relatives were his deadliest accusers. All-ah- horrent as the task was, yet go they must, speak they M ii' \< I 4 * m 72 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. II. n were obliged to. And closely veiled, and wearing deepest mourning, Mrs. Wood and Una set out for the crowded court-house. jjong before its doors were thrown open, street and side- walk were filled with a sea of people, and when at last wa}"- was made for them, they poured into the building and filled it to sutfocation. Busy reporters leaned over the desks, stylinhly-dressed ladies whispered together and waited impatiently for the prisoner to be brought in ; artists came ready to take correct pencil-sketches of the faces of all the principal personages in the tragedy, and all, from tlie highest to the lowest, had but one opinion of the issue — that Eugene Hazel wood was guilty, and would meet a fate he 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 prosecution ; the witnesses against him were plentiful ; and neither the prisoner nor his lawyer could say much that weighed against the crushing amount of circumstan- tial evidence. With a face that might have been cut out of white stone, relentless as death, pitiless as doom, Con- way was there as his chief accuser , and when the case M'as adjourned for that day, the mob poured out, more and more assured that their predictions as to the result were correct. The 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 — the jury brought in a verdict of guilty, but with a recommendation to mercy, on account of his youth and res])ectability. The clobing speech of the judge was a touching one ; the stylishly-dressed ladies wept copiously as they listened, and felt very sorry for the prisoner, witli the stern, moody face, when they heard his sentence — imprisonment for life, with hard labor. It might luive been death ; but the plea for mercy had been accepted, and it was only imprisonment for life. The prisoner siuiled as he heard it, such a strange smile, and turned his eyes intently on his elder brother's cold, wliite face, but ho bowed to the kind old judge, and was led from the court without a word. Everybody v/eut liome to talk about it. The Hazel- woods, never speaking at all, but shrinking from eacli A REVELATION. 73 other, were driven to tlieirs. Conway went to his deso- late lodgings ; but now that his revenge was satiated, a strange restlessness took possession of him — a wish to see and s])eak to Eugene once more before he left New York, as on the morrow he intended doing, forever. lie battled with the desire for awhile, but it was stronger than he ; and as dusk was falling over the city, he put on his hat and wandered slowly to the prison. There 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 recogniz- ing him. "" A very shocking thing, sir ! The young man, Hazel- wood, 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 tlie bars of his window. It has been a horrid affair all through, but the end is the most horrid of all." i ;? CHAPTER IX. A REVELATION. ;e Among the crowd collected round the prison-gate there stood a woman dressed in shabby-genteel mourning. Tall and slight, and youthful of form, as far as might be judged through the large black shawl slic wore. A thick black crape veil hid her face, and was gathered close in ono small gloved hand, as if A\q feared tiie wind might flutter it even for an instant aside. Conway Ilazelwood, moody and self-abstracted, had not seen hor, but she had followed himfromthehou.se, walked after him stealthily to the prison, and stopping and min- gling with the crowd when he stopped, hud heard his in- quiry and his answer. She could see his face, though he could not discern hers, and she saw his stony and riirid whiteness turn to the livid and gliastly hue of death. fl 74 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I i t i t '; i ; 1' ■ I \ m i i'iii There was a lamp-post near, and he grasjied it, as if the earth was reeling under his feet. '' Are you sure ? " he asked ; and the man stared at him as he heard his hoarse voice, and saw the frightful change in his face. '^The jailer's a cousin of mine, and it was him that found him as dead as a herring, not fifteen minutes ago. Was he any relation of yours, sir ? "' Tlie young man did not answer, lie turned with long strides and souglit the main entrance to the prison, sure of admission and bent 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 stationer'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 you be kind enough to let me write it here?" '' Certainly, madam," the young man said, looking ad- miringly at the beautiful white 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, but, to the deep disappointment of the jiolite shopkeeper, with- out ever raising the odious screen. *•' Oh, hang the veil ! " cried the clerk, inwardly. " Why don't she put the confounded thing up ? It's all very well for o.d and ugly, and pockmarked females to wear 'em, but no woman with such a hand as she's got can be anything else than stunning. Last Mercury ma'am — five cents, if you please.'' The winding up of his soliloquy was addressed to a cus- tomer ; and as he turned rouiid after serving her, he saw the veiled lady descend from the desk with a note, folded and sealed, in her hand. " I am much obliged to you, sir," said the sweet voice ; ** good evening." Tlic gas was lit in the streets as the woman in blnck rapidly retraced her steps. She stopped a moment to look at the gloomy prison as she went by. There was a throng about the gate still, discussing the frightful end of the A REVELATION. 75 ■s I 1 -■9; tragedy ; but she spoke to no one, and liurried on again, till she came to tlie lodgings of Conway Hazel wood. Iler ring at the door-bell was answered by a tidy maid-servaut. '^ Mr. Hazel wood boards here ? " she asked. '' Ves'ni." '' Is he at home ? " ^'Xo'm.'' " Will you please give him this letter as soon as ho comes ? " " Yes'm ; but iiadn't you better step in and wait. He'll be in directly, and you mayn't see him again, because he's going to England iu the steamer to-morrow." ^'Xo," replied the soft voice behind the veil; ^'Ido not wisli to see him. Give him the letter as soon as he ar- rives. Good night." She was gone as she spoke — not a second too soon, if, as she said, she did not wish to meet Mr. llazelwood ; for scarcely had she turned the next corner, when his tall form and pale face confronted the girl like a ghost ! '' A letter for you, sir," she said, presenting the docu- mtiut ; "a lady in black, which she has just gone this minute, left it, and said it was to be given as soon as you come in. Will you come down to tea, sir, or will I fetch it up ?" " I do not wish any," lie 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 evident prepa- rations for a journey. Opened trunks, half-packed valises, clothes, books, and all sorts of miscellany strewn over the carpet in a heap. Indifferently enough he ghmced at the superscription of the letter as he paused before the lamp, but in tliat one glance all indifference vanished. It was dainty enough chirography, delicate but decided — writing that had character in it — but nothing one would think to make him start as if a ball Inid struck him. In an instant he had torn it open, and was literally devouring its con- tents. His face altered so as he road that you would scarce have known it ; it had been harder than marble, as cold, as rigid, as expressionless ever since that fatal morn- ing on which he h;id 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 i.t 1« 76 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. Hi ; laco. It was I who did it all, and I glory in what I have done. More. Con- way Hazelwood, I will hunt you down to your dying day. I will be your evil genius through life ; and if the tales of preachers be true, at the judgment-scat, on tlie last great day, I will be your deadliest accuser for the wrong you have done me. Your brother is dead by his own liand, but his blood cries aloud for vengeance on you. You de- part to-morrow for foreign lands. Heaven speed you on your journey I Perhaps, after reading this, 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, " Rose Hazelwood." It dropped from his paralyzed hand the second time, this terrible letter ; and he sat staring straight before him, seeing nothing, but with every word he had read burning into his brain like fire. He never for a moment doubted its truth — he knew the writer of that letter too well — and his dead brother's blood was on his head. There was a knock at his 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 repeated, lie started up to a vivid consciousness of the outer world, and opened his door. It was his landlady, and the good woman recoiled with a scream at sight of him. ■■Good gracious me, ^Ir. Hazelwood, what ever's the matter with you ? You look as if you'd been dead and dug up agtiin ! '' He did not speak ; he only stood looking down at her, waiting for what she had to say. " It's a messag(», sir, from your father ; a .servant brought it, and has gone away again. Ho wants to see you before 78 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. you leave ; and if you like, sir, I'll pack up these here thinjT^s against you cunin back — shall 1 ? " '• Yes — what is the liour ? I have let my watch run down." " Just f?ono ten, sir, by the city hall. AVill you be back to-n^lit ?" " Yes." His landlady looked at him curiously, his face and voice were so dilTorunt from the face and voice of her lodger. The letter lay on the ground ; he i)icked it up, folded it, put it in his ])()cket, put on his hat, and went out. '' Won't you take your overcoat, Mr. Hazelwood ? " his landlady cried, after him ; but he never hoard her ques- tion, a!id was out in the dark, chill night, walking, seeing, feeling like a man in a dreadful dream. ^' I do 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 ! Here'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. Tiie 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 he heard this evening about Mr. Eugene," the man whispered, "except to tell me to 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 is 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 lianging loosely about him, his hands 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, npright old man, "frosty but kindly," now he sat bowed to the dust with sorrow and shame, looking twenty years older, V A REVELATION. 79 at the least. He lookod up piteously at liis elder sou now. *' Oil, Conway," lie cried, *' is it true ? " " It is quite true." He put one trembling hand up over his face, his whole form quivering. The young man stood leaning against the mantel and looking gloomily in the fire. " You sent for me," he said, at last, looking at his father. Mr. Hazelwood dropped the hand covering his face, and looked up. " Yes, Conway — you are going away, and I will never see you again I Oh, Conway, my boy ! my heart is broken ! " *' And it is I who have done it I " '' 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 ! Eugene never murdered Helen Thornton I " '' Conway ! " '' I am speaking the truth — don't look as if you thought me mad. En gene Hazelwood died an innocent man I " *' My God I 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. Y^'es, recoil from mo, father, look on me with horror, for through mo he perished. I have but one excuse to offer in palliation — I believed him guilty when I did it." His father sat looking at him, his lips apart, his eyes dis- tended, perfectly speechless. *' It is hardly two hours ago since I discovered the hor- rible mistake that has been made ; how I discovered it, or who the real criminal is, I cannot tell. Suffice it to say, Eugene died guitless of the crime of murder — more than I shall ever be able to say, for his death lies at my door." Still Mr. Hazelwood did not speak, could not speak — he only sat, his face rigid in that white horror. '' I have come liere to-night to tell you this, father," the deep, stern tones of Conway went on, "' and to make still another revelation before 1 leave my native land forever. It concerns these children, infants left here so mysteriously ou Christmas eve. Father, these children are mine." 1,! A, i ' •I' I 1^1 80 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. There was a gasping cry from the old man in the chair, but Conway never took his gloomy eyes oiT the fire. " The letter found with them spoke tlie truth ; that letter was written by me. They are your grandchildren ; I have been married for nearly three years. I stole them from their mother, no matter for what reason, and brought them here. 1 leave them in your care. I know you will provide for their future, for ii: is not probable they will ever know a father's care. At ul now, sir, farewell. I can- not ask your foroivene.is for what I have done ; the only atonement I can make is, to quit the home I have deso- lated forever. I go to-night — farev/ell, father; if you can- not bless, try not to curse, your first-born son ! " He was gone even while spoke. The nursery was on his way to the staircase, and the door standing ajar as he passed ; he went in. All was quiet there ; on a low French bed witli snowy draperies the twins lay asleep ; their long black curls tossed over the pillows, their cheeks flushed, their fat, wlvite arms interlaced in their slumbers. In a crib, at a short distance, Mrs. Wood's little daughter, Hazel, was sleeping, too ; and the nursery-maid, 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 Ilazelwood, on his way to vol- untary 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 tic grave, as he looked down with knitted brows and com- pressed lips at his sleeping children. lie 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 Ilazelwood had left his father's house forever ! 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. i STOLEN. 8i CHAPTER X. STOLKX. The golden glory of a June .i" •rnoon streaming througli the wide-open doors uiid window.'^ (jff a ])leasant old farmhouse, half buried in a tai .:-!<'d «rilderness of grape-vines and sweetbriei-, fell in bnlManr squares of luster on the pretty medallion oarp«'t. rosewood furniture, and inlaid tables of a charming little *itting-rooni. The lace-covered front windows, through ivhich the fFuiu) breezes blew the odors of the sweetbric- ind T-ose-bushos around it, overlooked the one long, du.-'y, straggling street of a quiet country village ; and the windows op- posite, filled with ilower-pots and canary cages, looked out on a flowing river, flashing and glittei'ing in the summer sunlight. So still was the room in the sultry noon still- ness that the rustling of tliovinpst' and the shrill singing of the canaries sounded preternatui-ally loud, ami joitied in a drowsy chorus with the buzzing of the flies and the chir])- ing of the grassho})pers without. The quiet room had but one occui)ant : near an open piano, in a low lOcking-chair — that great American institution — swinging backward and forward, a young lady sat, with a book in her hand. A very young lady, looking lifteen or thereabouts, with pretty, delicate features, a skin of snowy fairness, a profusion of flaxen hair, worn in a net ; small, restless, light-bluo eyes, shifting but keen, under eyebrows so light as to bo scarcely worth mentioning. The young lady wa,>? dressed in deep mourning, its salde hues setting olf her blonde beauty like a pearl incased in jet. Her book was ** Co- vinne'" ; and so absorbed Avas 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 p;ith. A sharp double-knock, like a postman's, at the 0[)en front door, startled her at last, and rising, she went out to the hall. A little dark thin nuin, wearing spectacles ami a suit of dingy black, stood there, and tlie young lady opened iier small blue eyes in astonishment at sight of him. m m 82 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. i-i I i 1 '' Doctor LiincG ? " Tlie little man nodded grimly. " You're Uiiii, eh? I remember yonr face very well ! How d'ye do ? Anybody besides you in the house ? " " Aunt Emily has gone out somewhere,, but she will bo hero in a moment. Please to walk in and sit down/' Doctor Lance promptly accepting Miss Forest's polite invitation, followed her into the pretty sitting-room, and ensconced himself in an armchair beside the window. *' So you've all been in trouble since I left New York, ell ? How loTij^" is it since your uncle died ? " Una produced a luindkerchief, 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 liis room that night 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 ? J)id he make a will ? " ^' Y^es, sir — the day before he died." ^' He died sure, then ! Wlio'd have tliought it ? " said Dr. Lance, parenthetically, no way discomposed by Xrna's tears. " How did he leave his property ? " L^na looked at him, rather at a loss how to answer. Dr. Lance put it more directly. " Did he leave you anything, ]\[iss Una ? " " Yes, sir — the sum of live 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 ! l>ut Hiizelwood always had his liand in his pocket for his poor relations ; and a thankless set they were ! All the rest goes to his two sons, I sup- pose r *'0h, no, sir. There were two other legacies, besides what was left to the old servants." " Two other legacies, eh ? For whom ? " Una dropped her ])orket-liandkerchief, and fixed her shifting blue eyes on the keen, dark face. *' Do you remember last Christmas eve, sir ? You wore STOLEN. 83 it at our house, you know, and saw the two cliildren left in tlie liall/' '' Of course. You don't mean to say " *' Yes, sir. Uncle left them five thousand dollars each, to be paid them on attaining tlieir majority, and strict directions about their education ; and you, sir, are ap- pointed their guardian." Doctor Lance nc\'cr swore ; he was an instructor of youth ; but he looked at this last announcement as if he would like to. His dark brows knit portentously, and his thin lips puckered up. '^What did you say? Appointed me their guardian ! I gnardiiin over two little girls ?" " Over three, sir, for Hazel is included. Unc^e wished to see you very much before he died, but you had gone to Cuba ; and as we came lierc immediately after, Aunt Emily could not find out whether you had returned or not, and that is the reason you did not hear all this sooner." Anything grimmer than Doctor Lance's face the sun never shone on. L'^na thought of pictures she had seen of South Sea idols, and made u)) her mind the austere 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 promeiuulc up and down the carpet. ''It's the most preposterous thing I ever heard of, making me guardian to a parcel of flighty, silly, female fools — for ] never knew a young girl yet who wasn't a fool — aiul the Hazel woods the greatest fools of all ! If I had been with Hugh Hazel wooil, I should have ])ositively re- fused it. The num must have been mad ! AV'hcre were liis own sons, young hidy, that J had to be lugged into the matter ? '' denumded the profe-jsor, turning suddenly, not to say fiercely, on Miss Forest. ** Conway was away, sir. to Europe, and none knew liis address. Arthur, you kn(^w, was out of the (juestion " '^ I should think so. No more brains than a ba))Oon ; but then brains never were a chariicteristic of the family. I thought Eugene, by some accident, had got a few, 'inlil he proved himself as great a ninny as the rest. Where aro these confouiuled — I nu^m where are these children ? If I am to be tormented by them for the rest of my life, it strikes me it is time I saw them I " .1 ii 84 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I I i i Una rose and looked out. *' They were 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, auntie, and in such a fume ! You had better go in and talk to him ; he has sent mo after the children ; and there they are, roll- ing about like little pigs, in tlie dust of the road ! Jane deserves to get her ears boxed ! " Ivolling about the three little ones certainly were, in a '•loud of dust in the middle of the road ; their frocks, that had been of spotless white that morning, anything brt wliite now ; laugliing, screaming, in the glee of childhood, and tumbling over each other, as L^'nasaid, 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 g.ite, stopped 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, ^liss Janet sat, very much at her ease, and totally indifferent to the very existence of her obstreperous cliarges. Not alone, either : a queer figure sat beside her, holding her hand, and peering intently in her palm — the figure of an old woman, miserably clad, and ugly enough to be one of the witciies in " Macbeth." *' Fortune-telling, eh?" said Una, catching Doctor Lance's sharp interrogative ; *' I have seen that hideous old woman lurking about here often within the last week, and she came begging to the kitchen door yesterday. Here, Jane ! " Jane started up with a very red and guilty face at sight of the young lady. ^' Look at those cliildren ! " said Una. ** Are they not nice objects, witii mud and dust, by tiiis time ? You're a i)retty nurse, and a fine hand to be hnisted out of sight I ' suppose this is the wny tliey are always taken care of wlien they are sent out with you."' *' I can't help it,"' said Jane, rnther sulkily. " I can't do nothing with that little limb, Miss Hazel. She'll roll in the dirt, in spite of all the nurses fr(>ri here to Jericho." *' Very well, we will see what her mother will say when STOLEN. 85 I tell her you speiul your time gadding witli old witclies, instead of niintiiiig your work. Take them into the room, and think yourself lucky if you are not discliarged at the end of the month." Jane, with a very sulky face, went over and dragged Mrs. Wood's olTspring, with no gentle jerk, out of tliedirt, while the old spaowil'e hobbled up to the gate and stood peering up in Miss Forest's face. '* Let me tell your fortune, my pretty lady," she said, liolding out her withered hand ; •' there inust be some- thing very good in the future for tlie owner of so hand- some a face." Una laughed a mocking little laugh. " You can Hatter better th m you can speer fortuTies, old lady, I fancy. Are your liands clean ? Xo ; then I guess 1 won't miiul having my fortune told. Jane ! I told you to take those children into the house." As Jane went through the gate witli her charges, or.eof whom — Miss Ifazel — was kicking, and screaming, and pluiiging manfully to get free, Una saw her exehang<^ a meaning glance with the oM woimm. The youi-g lady read tlie glance ariglit ; it said : '• We have been inler- rupted, but I will come again ; wait ! " and the fortune- tellei understood, and nodded assent. '* You had better not be loitering arouml here, ohl woman," said Una, sharply, turning after .la!ie into the house. " We don't want our servants' heads turned with your nonsense. Take my advice, and go somewliei-e else I " Without waiting to see whether slie were obeyed or not, ]\riss Forest went back to the house, and the old woman stood looking after the slight girlish ligure, with the ilaxeu hair and the mournifig dress. '' Like the rest I lik(^ the rest I " she muttered. *' Cold- blooded, cruel, and craftv I Ah I thev're a bad lot — a bad lot. every one of these llazelwoods, voung and old I " In the hall, Una mot Jane, still fighcmg Aviih JFazel, whose kicks and plunging were more violent than ever. *' W^ash their faces and comb their haii*, and put on cleiui dresses, and then fetch tluMu into the sitti!ig-i'0()m.'* were her orders. " There's a gentleman there wants to see tliem. llazel, be good aiul you shall have some cake and jam, by and by ! " Little Miss Wood, who was a great gournumd, loving I I I f 86 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. II ! rako and jam better tbananytliiiig earthly, except mischief, 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 wash and dre.ss you, and behave pretty in the sitting-ro^m. Kow, go away." Miss Hazel at once wilted down and consented to ])e led o(t', while Una went toward the sitting-room. The sound of her own name caught her ear through the partly open door, and she stopped to — well, to listen. Mrs. Wood was speaking, with little tearful sniffs for punctuation- nuirks. '' Yes, Doctor Lance, as you say, it is a very queer will, ler.ving so much to these two foundlings as to his own flesh and blood ; but then poor dear llugii always was odd and romantic, and fond of reading novels, and I dare sj'.y ho took his sentiinental notions from them. Five tliousand apiece he left them, and if either one dies before the other, the survivor get*' lier portion, too ! •' '' Melodramatic, very ! " said the displeased tjnes of the little professor. '' Xo man in his senses should have made such a will." '•And, if bolli die before attaining their majority, the ten thousand is to be divided equally between my Ihizd and Umi Forest. lie left, besides, a letter, with iialf a d STOLEN. 87 There was a lond knock at the front door. Una ran ont and returned witli a single letter. *' It's for you, auntie, and in Arthur's writing ! Some- thing wonderful must have happened to make that lazy fellow write." Something wonderful evidently had happened ; for, as Mrs. AVood tore it open, and read it without ceremony, on the spot, she uttered a shrill scream of astonishment. " (jiood gracious, auntie ! what is it ? " cried the startled Una ; " has anything befallen Arthur or " " Hold your tongue, Una, will you " — exclaimed Mrs. Wood, in a high state of excitement — " until I read it again I It seems a great deal too good to be true ! " ''Oh, it's not bad news, then !" sairac- ticing, dreaming not that Jane and the old woman were at that very moment in close and confidi'ntial confab ; while Hazel Wood, all unheeded, was making the life of the twins a misery to them by her tormenting praidcs. Three quarters of an hour after, while she was deep in the " Wedding March," a piercing shriek, aiul then another and another, from the garden nnide her si)ring from the music-stool, aghast. A flying tigure, with wild eyes and terror-stricken face, holding a child in each arm, tore up the gravel walk and into the liall, still scrcjiming in wildest terror. It was Jane with Hazel and one of the twins, and both were echoing her frantic shrieks. '' For Heaven's sake, what is the matter ? " Una cried. *' Where's the other child ?" '* Oh, Miss Una ! she's gone ! she's gone ! " shrieked Jane ; she's lost forever I " " Lost ! What do you mean ? Have you gone nuid ? '* '^ Oh, ]\[iss I'mi ! it was that old wonnin ! Oh, what shall I do ? Oh, Miss Una I the child's stole I" " Stolen ! Whatever do you mean ? Has that wretched old hag kidnapjK'd " ''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 I Oh, what shall I do I what shall I do I" "■ It's Kosie, Kosie," piped the small voice of Hazel, ^' it's Rosie she took ; and she wanted to take Evey, too, oidv she couldn't carry both." Una stood still, a strange light in her eyes, a strange compression al)Out her lips. Jane's cry still rung out while she twisted her hair as ii\ utter tci'ror. " Oh, what shall Ido 1 what shall I do ! Oh, Miss T'na, whatever shall 1 do I " Her cries had Ijrought 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 : crvinff and twistinji; your lingers won't mend matters now ! xVnd 1 hope,'" was the thought ni iier heart, '' that it never will be mended ! It's the very best thing that could have happened." . I I: It; 90 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 1 1 1 1 '' f i !] 1 ; i i' i '■! ii 1'. CHAPTER XI. EVE. If : Fifteen years ! Don't start, dear, i"»atient reader ; you liavc waded with me tlirough tlie last ten chapters, and in my deep j^Tatitnde for that, I will not allliet you with any moralizing on the joys and sorrows, the deaths and births, the ups and downs tliat are sure to checker this changeful and feverish life of ours in lifteen 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 upon a new scene, a little less dark and tragic than those we liave gazed on heretofore. It is a June evening ; and fifteen years lie between it and that other June evening, on wliich Una Forest's blue eyes glittered triumphantly, looking out on the dusty highroad, in search of the stolen cliild. The sky is as blue and cloudless, but the sinking sun is sliining on an- other village, many a mile away. Xo thrifty Quaker vil- lage this, with its corner-groceries, its busy raihviiy-sta- tion, its freshly-painted meeting-houses, and mechanics' institutes, with its streets all life and bustle, and the sign of the almighty dollar everywhere. Xo ; this voiceless village lies under the shadow of giant pines and towering tamaracs, hushed in stagnant stillness; it has quaint little cottages with gardens in front, where purple lilacs and golden laburnums bloom ; and tlie women who gossip at garden-gates, with long gold earrings dangling under the silk handkerchiefs knotted utuler their cliins, speak a glib- ber and more vivacious language than you ever hear '' down East." A. (piecr-looking old stone church, and a queer-looking old ston(^ convent, l)oth surmounted by tall crosses, bespeak the faith of the inhabitants. It is the Church and the Convent of the Holy Cross ; the village itself is called St. Croix; the river sparkling in the dis- tance is the beautiful St. Lawrence ; and you and I are in Lower Canada. The Convent of the Holy Cross, whose bell is now ring- EVE. 91 iiig the Evening Angelas, stands on a liillsiilo at some distance from tlie village. Tiiero is only one otiiur dwell- ing near it — a building as large as itself, much more mod- ern in structure, with extensive and beautiful groumls around it, and inclosed by a high wall. The wall and liie massive iron gates have ratlier the look of a prison, and a jirison it is to some of its inmates ; but on the silver door- ph;te you will find a different story : " Madtmic Momtn, J\'/isiij)inui Ax Dv.*^;i.s'/o;/^;7^/', licsides 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 over- grown tomcat, resides within its sanctified walls, conse- crated by the presence of jevufs fiUcx, innocence, and all that sort of thing. Jean Baptisto, the surly old gardener, sleeps in his lodge, near the entrance-gates, with his son Amadee, who acts as porter ; and Loup, the large Can- adian wolf- "^und, has 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 intends to go back by and by to belle Paris to spend it and her old age in luxury. The ])layground of the school is behind the house; a large place, with a gymnasium, lots of swings, and with benches under the trees for the weary ones to rest. Ma- dame calls it the " roicr do drrriere." She never speaks English, and French is the language of the school — the only language, in fact, the majority of its pu]»ils can speak. They try English now and then ; but they mince and munch the speech of Albion fearfully through their Canadian teeth, and fall bacik on their own oily and glib French, with a " Dim 7ncrri ! " of ineffable relief. There is life enough in the cour de derriere now, for the externes have gone lioine, and the pensiunnairc^ are eu- 4i '■ ! ■ : f. \$ i.K- U\: ,'1 1 * IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // iis €fn & ^ 1.0 If:"- IIM 1^ 111 o^ I.I 1.25 ■ ■ 12.2 |!: I4£ 12.0 1.4 1= :.6 6" -^ Vl r^ 7: y ^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. M580 (716) 872-4503 1 lis If I ;■ 11 1^ 1 i 92 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. joying tlicir evening rotigS before the supper-bell rings. Thirty girls, of all sorts and sizes, of all age.- from eigiit to twenty, all dressed alike in the week-day school uni- form ; gray alpaca dress, liigli-necked and long-sleeved, with neat linen collars and cuffs, and bhick-silk aprons with cunning pockets. All sorts of girls, tall and short, 2)retty and ugly; girls with curls, girls with braids, girls with nets ; and girls with their liair cropped short, otiier- wise "shingled.'*' You niay know the Canadians by their dark skiii, thi'ir black eyes, and tarry tresses ; the Englisli and Americans by their fairer complexions and lighter bair and eyes ; but among the tints the " brune " decided- ly predominates over the blonde. Some are developing tlieir muscle at tlie gymnasium ; some are swinging ; sonio liave skipping 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 teach- ers who are overseeing the ui)roarious mass. All but one. Apart from all the rest of the tumultuous lierd, under the feathery branches of a tall tamarac, a gii'l is standing alone, leaning against the ti'ce, and watching the sunset witli lier heart in her eyes. 8he is not a Cana- dienne, thougli no Canadienne ever had eyes more glori- ously dark and luminous, nor more sliining raven ringlets than those falling loose half way to her wiiist. A beautiful face, so young, so fresb, so blootning, the oval che(>ks aglow with health, tlie pretty month of scarlet bloom, the black, arching eyebrows, nearly meeting above tbe aquiline nose, the hi-oad, thoughtful brow, and the rounded chin, fair and full of character. A beautiful face, proud ami spirited — you could see tbat by the lofty way it was carried ; a beautiful form, light, slender, and girlish, as became its owner's sixteen years ; tall for that age, too ; and the hand playing with the gi'een branches dainty enough to be Hebe's own. She wore the sober uniform of the school, but it became her, as anvthing must have become such a iiouro and face. She had a nickname in school. " La Brincesse.'' and she looked a princess to her iinger-tips. A portfolio lay at her feet ; with })encils and brushes she liad been sketching the sunset, but was oidy thinking now. " Eve ! Eve llazelwood ! I say, Eve, where are you ?" ii shrill falsetto voice cried, in English. EVE. 93 10 :3 it '0 >y It aroused the girl from her reverie, and she looked around. A plump little damsel, with rosy clieeks, briglit, brown eyes, like a bird's, and two long braided pigtails streaming down her back, liad doubldl up a fat little list like a trum- pet, and was sliouting through it. " Me void / "' said the young lady witli the blank ring- lets, in a clear, sweet voice. "Here, Hazel; uiuler tlie tamuracs. " " And what are you doing under the tamaracs ? At your everlasting drawing, I suppose?'' said the plump young lady, wlio, though three years the senior of her companion, looked three years the junior, and certainly was that many vears her junior in sense. ''Xo, iixf c/iere ; oidy thinking." Hazel Wood, no longer a child of three, but 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 it 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 verl)s or Hebrew de- clensions, or to-morrow's proposition in Algein-a, or the end of the world, or what we are 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, iiuleed ! Every day's like a month in this stupid old barr.ick I " 'M)o you know what day this is, Ha^el ?" "' Let's see ! To-morrow's half holida\', aiid we crot clean clothes this morning, so it must be Wediiesday." "I didn't mean that — the day of the month ?" "Oh? then I haven't the flrst idea. IMy worst enemy never can accuse me of knowing whether it's the flrst or the last." "Shall I tell you ? It's the tvventy-nintli of June, and the anniversary of our coming here. Just six years to-day since you and I came here first." " And wo are likely to stay here six more, for all I cuu I hi 94 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I i i I see to the contrary. I declare, I am growing an old maid in this place, and no prospect of leaving it ! That old savage, Doctor Lance, ought to be ashamed of himself, keeping us here just to be out of the way ! A pretty guardian he is ! and a pretty relation ^h\ Arthur Hazel- wood is, rolling in splendor in England, and leaving us here to go melancholy mad if we choose ! I tell you what it is, Eve, Fm getting desperate, and shall do something shortly that will shake society to its utmost foundations, if somebody docs!i't take me out of this I " Eve was silent. The luminous dark eyes were gazing at the sunset, mistv and dreamv. '• Six years I How short it seems ! It is like yesterday, Hazel, since we stood at your mother's dying bed, and I received from her hand that strange packet, left for mo by tlie uncle whom I never saw." Hazel's rosy, cliubljy face sobered suddenly. " Oh, poor mamma ! How we both cried that day ! V>y tlio way, Eve," jumping with a jerk to another topic, *' 1 wonder how Una Forest gets on in England ? I think it was a very shabby trick in cousin Arthur to seiul for her when mamma died, and leave us poor Babes in the Wood to the mercy of that cross-grained little monster, Doctor Lance, and that tiresome, snuff-taking old Frenchwoman, ]\laihime ]\[oreau. Tliere !" '* Hazel, hush ! We have no reason to complain of Doctor Lance. He is rather crabbed, I allow ; but he means well, and is as good to iisas it is in his nature to be to anyone. Xo one could be kinder than he during my illness this spring." "• 1 don't believe you were half so ill as you pretended," said Hazel, testily. *' It was all a ruse to get back to Xcvv York and enjoy yourself. Dear, delightful Xew York ! I would sham sick myself to get back there ; but whore's the use ? Xobody will believe me while my cheeks keep so horrid red, and my appetite continues so powerful ? What blessed times we used to have promenading Broad- Avay every afternoon, and will have again, when vacation comes, i)lease tlie pigs ! Well, Kate Schalfer ! AVhat do you want ?" *' I know what you want, Miss Hazel Wood," replied Kate Schalfcr, a tali, stylish-looking girl, with a dark, IP^ EVE. 95 ,f: }y sV } m I S 'P 9 • 1- 11 lo Canadian face, thongli 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 Hazel, no way discomposed by these left-handed compliments, sat lazily up on the grass. " Is it near tea-time, Kate ? I smelt hot biscuit awhile ago, when I applied my nose to the kitchen donkey-hole, but my prophetic soul is inclined to the notion that Madame has company, and they're not for us."' " Your prophetic soul has hit the right nail on the head, then," said Miss Schalfer. '' Madame has company, and you are doomed to the stale bread of everyday existence as usual." Hazel sighed, and gave a dejected roll over 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." "I don't believe it I There's nobody to send me plum- cake, and that's the only thing in this w^orld I do like better." "Except," sa'd Kate, still eyeing her, ^* my cousin TtUl. Ilazol suddenly sprung up from the grass, as if she had been gtQvanizcd. Her eves dilated, her whole face aglow. " Oil, Kate ! Has Paul come ? " " Ah ! I thought that would do it," said Miss Schaifer, coolly. " Paul's better than plum-cake, is he ? Oh, yes ; he's come, and so has mamma and IVIonsieur D'xVrville ; and they^re all going to stay and take tea with ^ladame, and it's for them the hot biscuit are, and you'll never taste tliem." liut the hot biscuit had lost their attraction. Hazel stood with parted lips, her color coming and going, look- ing at Kate. And Kate burst into a laugh. " Do look at her, Eve I and all about that fo])pish noodle, Paul Schalfer. The gods fovefond that I should full 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 olf. In a second, Hazel had torn it open and devoured its contents, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling. M WW '■^' U :J f .1 '■:': V 1 : I ^ I I fi. Ill "^^ ;i^ 'sit ■I i I 96 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. As she looked up in a rapture at its ocuclusion, she found the dark hright eyes of Kvo fixed full upon her. " Oh, Eve ! lie wants me to " ^' Well," said Eve, gravely, ^'he wants you to do what ? " JInzcl pouted. *' Yoirre nothing but a stiff old prude I I shan't tell you ! Oh, there's the bell ! Come to supper." She Hew olf as she spoke, like a lapwing, tlirusting the note into Love's own ])ost-oflioe — her bosom. Eve llazehvood followed more slowlv, fell into the rank with the rest, and nn;rched into the salle a //ta/if/cr, where along table was \ii\d. ior tho thirty hungvy jtcii^sionnuin'S and the six teachers. After supper, came study ; after that, evening reading and prayers ; and then the girls went olf to their rooms. Every two shared a chamber, and Eve and Hazel had not been separated from the first. Very plainly these cliamhres a coiichcr were furnished : a painted floor, two small French beds, with hardly room to turn in — but Madame Moreau was of the same opinion as the L*on Duke, th.at when ono begins to turn in bed, it is time to turn out of it — a washstand, table, two chairs, and tvvo trunks. The room the cousins occu])ied was on the second floor, and overlooked the playground. Eve set the lamp she carried on the table, and drew forth slate and ])encil to write to-morrow's composition, the subject, ^'Political Economy." Hazel did the same ; but her pencil only drew fox and geese, and her mind was running on a far sweeter subject than dry " Political 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 sigiuil to extinguish all lights and go to bed — Eve looked u]). " Have you finished ?" she asked. **Yes — no — I don't know," stammered Hazel, waking from her day-dreaming. *' Why, you haven't written a word ! Why, Hazel ! what have you been about ?" **0h, it's no odds !" said Hazel, with sublime indiffer- ence. 'TU copy somebody else's to-morrow! Let's go to bed ! " t ;: : EVE. 97 jel! *^We will have to," said Eve, '^ for hero comes Misa Green for tlie light." All uiider-teacher entered, took the lamp and went out. Eve knelt down, said her prayers, nndressed rapidly, and went to bed ; but Hazel sat by the wimlow, lool^ing out at tlie mooidight, and doing something very unusual with her, tliinking. " Do you mean to sit there all niglit ?" demanded Eve, drowsily, "' You have got very sentimental all of a sudden, watching the moon." " I'm studying astronomy — that's all. Never you mind me. I have got very fond of it lately ! " '^I should think so! You won't have an eye in your head to-morrow ! Go to sleep I " "Go vourself ! " said Hazel, testily, '^ and don't bother 1 'f Eve did as directed, and dropped asleep ten minutes after. 'I'lie convent bell pealing eleven awoke her from a vivid dream of seeing Hazel drowning, and she started up in bed, her heart throbbing. "■'Oh, Hazel! I have had such a dream! Are you asleep ?" Xo, Hazel v/as not asleep — was not in the room at all I The full midnight moon shining in showed an empty bed, a vacant cluiir, and an open window. It all flashed on Eve at once : she rose up and went to the window. Yes, there was a rope-ladder, and there were two figures walking in the moonlight, under the shadows of the trees — one, the tall form of a man : the other, shawled and hooded, Hazel Wood. Eve went back to her bed, hei* cheeks burning, her lieart throbbing. Ten minutes passed, twenty, half an hour, and then she heard Ha-^el enter softly, and pause to listen for an instant. *^ Good night," Eve heard her breathe softly to some one below, as she shut the window. " She is asleep. Eare- well until to-morrow ! " After which Miss Wood retired to rest, but not to sleep. Long after Eve had dropped once more into the iiniocent and untroubled slumber that rarely comes after sixteen, seldom with boarding-school damsels lasts so long. Hazel was tossing back and forth on her pillow, her heart in a tumult of delicious unrest, and one name ever on her lips : ww^ 1 1 'i ll J t 98 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. *•' Dear, dear, dear Paul I " " Love ii.ot ! love not ! oli, warning vainly said ! " Very true, Mrs. Xorton, and one moth will not take warn- ing by its singed brother, but will flutter round the fiery faseination until its own wings are singed, and it has noth- ing lel't to do but drop down and die. And so, Ilnzel Wood, poor little fool ! dream on while you may I You will pass through the fiery ordeal, and your darling Paul will care just as much as the candle does I'or the moth ! CHAPTER XII. ,} IS,' THE PEXSIONNAIRES FETE. '' Eve ! '* ^MVell?" '^ How 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 through the open window, with the matin songs of the birds, and the sweet scents of lilacs and laburnums, fell on Eve Hazel- wood, putting the finishing touches to her toilet before the glass. It was a lovely face that glass reflected ; the checks yet flushed from sleep, her bright dark eyes so starry and lustrous, and the profusion of glittering, jetty ringlets falling, freshly combed, in a shining shower over her shoulders. Hazel showed her appreciation of the picture by another prodigious yawn, and a lazy roll over in bed. *' How doth the little busy bee improve each shining — I say, Eve, what set you up at such an unchristian hour ?" '• IL is not an unchristian hour. It is half-past five o'clock." "^ And what do you call tin t, I should admire to know ? Oh, yaw-w-w I I feel as if I v'ould sleep a week ! " If people go to bed at proper hours," said the pretty a Wiseacre before the glass, " they will be able to rise at propel hours, and not want to lie stewinef in a hot bed such a lovely morning as this J? \ i. !l' THE PENSIONNAIRES' FETE. 99 M I This hint was pretty broad, but ^li.ss Wood never took hints. She tumbled lazily oil: her coucli, and began slowly and with many yawns to dress. " "What noise the birds are making ! " she said, with a dissatisfied air. " Is the day line, Eve ? " Eve opened her black eyes at thi., question, the little room being fairly Hooded with suidiglit. *' No, a tempest is raging — don't you see it? Are yon sure you are quite awake, Miss Wood ?" '^ Not so very," said Hazel, rubbing her eyes, " but I'm very glad it's line. AVe are going to have the jolliest time to-day , Eve I " " Jolliest I 'i'hat's a nice word from a young lady's lii)s. '' '^' Oh, bother ! Ed be sorry to be a young lady I I tell you we are in for heaps of fun before night I '" ''Are we ? "' said Eve, sitting down by the window, where Hazel had sat last night, and taking up her (iei'imiii grammer ; " liow is that ? '' '^ It's a half-holiday, you know, anyway," said Hazel, vividly interested at once in her subject, '• and what's more, it's Kate Schaffer's birthday, and her mamma is go- ing to give a gniwl fehi t'liampetre this afternoon, in their grounds, f^nd all the girls Kate likes are to be invited." '* Indeed ! Kate said nothing about it yesterday." '' Eor a very good reason — she knew nothing about it, and does not yet. It was that brought Madame Scluill'er here last evening, and Madame Moreau gave permission, of course — catch her refusing the rich Schaifers anything — and Kate is to be told this afternoon I" Eve fixed her powerful dark eyes on Hazel's radiant face. " And how did you find it out, may I ask ?" ** Oh ! " exclaimed Hazel, pettishly, but with the guilty scarlet mounting to her face, "that's my secret I Per- haps I dreamt it, or })erhaps a little bird told me, or " '• Or more likely Mr. Paul SchalTer told you hist night." Hazel suddeidy dropped the hair brush she was using, and stood confounded. ''Eve!" " Oh, I know all about it, my dear I How the note yes- terday made the appointment ; how you sat u[) last night at this window watching him until you saw him enter the ":!| -^^^ Ht ':! III ;'ii:.' r 1' :j . t i' 1 1 '■ i! I; :' 1 iii 111 ill 100 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. groniuls ; liow he sui>i)liocl you witli a rope-ladtler ; and how you luul uu interview with him, and got back here about niidniglit I Don't trouble yourself to tell tibs. I was not asleep, though you thought so ! " *' Ard you stayed awake to play the sj)y upon me I Evo lliizelwood " "You know Ijetter tlnin that ! I was asleep when you left the room ; but I awoke, missed you, found the window open, and made use of my eyes — tlnit is all. AVhat am I to think of siieli conduct, Cousin Hazel ?" " AVhat you please, Cousin Eve !" *' Are vou not ashamed ?*^ ^' Not the least !" One of Eve's feet was beating and excited tattoo on the ^tainted floor, and her cheeks were like rosy flame. " Hazel, are you engaged to this num ^ " *' Now, now, Grandmother Grunty, I won't have any of your lecturing. Engaged ! fiddlesticks I Can't one en- joy a schoolgirl flirtation without being so dowdyish as to get engaged ? You're the greatest goose. Eve Ilazclwood, that ever wore crinoline !" Eve opened her grammar silently ; her lips compressed, her cheeks more deeply flushed. '^ And now you're cross," broke out Miss Wood, resent- fully, Avho liked her cousin to be in a talking mood, even when she talked to chide. " Now, will you tell me where's the very great crime in what I've done. All schoolgirls flirt, and why shouldn't I ? " ^^ Shoolgirls have no business to flirt, then ; least of all, v/itli such men as this Paul Schaffer." '' This Paul SchafPer I '' still more resentfuUv. " Don't you say anything against him, Miss llazelwood, if you want to be i'riends with me. Y^'ou don't know him, and so have no right to speak ! " *' It is because I am your friend I do speak. As for knowing, it is true I never saw him ; but from what you and his cousin say of him, I judge he is nothing but a vain, conceited coxcomb."' " Nothing of the sort. He may be a little vain, I allow, but then he is as handsome as an angel. If you were good-looking yourself, you would be conceited, too, I dare sav ! " Eve smiled a little. She knew perfectly well she was :pp' THE PF.NSIONNAIRES' FETE. lOI >i more tliaii good-looking, but the small sin of vanity was not hers. *' Hazel, take care I You nniy be sorry some day. If I were you I would liave nothing to do witli Paul Scli Mirer.'' *' Of course you wouldn't," said JIazel, with a sneer, and brushing hor brown hair furiously. " "Nothing less than a king on liis throne, or a hero of a novel, wonUl suit La Princesse. Tliey say the i'rince of Wales will visit Canada this summer ; perhaps you might condescend to marry liim." Eve smiled again, and lifted her beautiful head with a gesture graceful aiul proud. '^' I am not so sure of that, ma rj/cre ; certainly I would not if I had no otlier reason than liis being Prince of Wales. Ik'sides," with a laugh, "Paul Shalfer is a (Jer- man. Would you marry a sourkrout-eating, Inger-beer drinking, meerschaum-pipe smoking Dutchman ?" " Queen Victoria married one. I 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 pu})ils, '' and then you won't die in a pet. ^lake haste down- stairs, or you will be marked ^ late,' as usual I " Hazel had no need to warn Eve not to tell ; she knew her too well for that. She did hurry down-stairs, and met the other iwuslonnaircs 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 furtiier talk ; for after prayers came study ; after that, breakfast ; and the morning play-hour, which fol- lowed, was lost to Hazel, who, to her intense annoyance, was called off to practice her last music lesson. Thursday being a half-holiday, the girls dined at twelve — an hour earlier than usual ; and just as the demi-j^en- sionnaires were tying on their hats to go home, Madame Moreau, a bland and dchoiDiaire Frenchwoman, sailed into the classroom with a mighty rustling of silk flounces, and smiling, announced the delightful fact of the Schatl'L'r />7r', and that all tlie young ladies invited by ^Mademoiselle Schaffer were at liberty to go. "I want all the girls in our division to go," sfiid Kate, who, used to petting, and all sorts of pleasant surprises from her doting mamnui, took the announcement very \k I ;i III I it!:: ii \l i :i I I I 11 |!; iiv i d. 'I 102 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. coolly, ^'aiid, in fact, the wliole school, Madame, if yon'U lot thorn come." Madame graciously gave permission, and swept out again : and her departure was the signal for an uproar that would have shamed Babel. Kate vSchalfer 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 goliomo, can't you, or you'll never be in time, and the rest of you let me alone ! Eve Hazel wood, where are you ? I want you.'' '* What for ? to kiss you ?" Eve asked, laughing at the din. Kate made a grimace. *• No, thank you. I have had enough of that. If there is one thing in this world more sickening than another, it is schoolgirl kisses. It is worse than pepperment candy, and that is tit for neither gods nor men. What are you going to wear ':' " " Wliite, I suppose. I have nothing else." '^ And you know it becomes you. 1 say. Eve, Professor D'Arville is to be there, and you mustn't cut me out.'" " Bah ! is he so handsome, then ? " " Like an angel. All the girls are wild about him." " Oh, I know tliat. lie has been the burden of all their songs ever since my return. Are there to be many gentle- men ?" *' Half a dozen only. I know all about it, though mamma thinks 1 am in a delightful state of ignorance. Monsieur D'Arville,'' said Kate, reckoning on her fingers, "he's one; Paul Schaifer 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 reappeared, eii r/rande tenve — which, in English, means in white mus- lin dresses, streaming blue and rose ribbons, and straw flats. Fairest, whore all were 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, veiling THE PENSIONNAIRES' FETE. 103 the planip white shoulders, plainly tniccablc under the gauze. Two carriages were at the door waiting ; and in a high state of bustle, delight and excitement, tiiat we never feel — moro's tlie [)ity ! — after our breiid-and-butter days, the peusioiUKfirrs fluttered in and took tlieir st'ats. As they drove along the dirty hi<,4iroad, every cottage gate, door and window were lined with admiring faces, for the pretty schoolgirls were the pride and delight of St. Croix ; and there were bowing, and smiling, and throwing of kisses, and wavins; of luuulkerchiefs, until thev reached the outer gate of the Schaffer mansion. Over tlie 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 inmjites alighted. A troop of the village children, with baskets on their arms, went before them, scattering flowers and singing tlie songs so popular among the Jiabitans, •'*' Vive la Canadieiine." " Oh, Kate," Eve liazelwood cried, as they walked up the broad avenue together, '' liow charming such a birth- day welcome is, and what it is to have a mother's love ! I almost wish I were a Canadienno to-d;iy I '' "•' 1 wouldn't be anything else for the world ! Look ! there's mamma and a whole crowd of ladies and gentlemen 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 FvJiUilni' /'' .Monsieur and Madame Schalfer, at the head of a host of guests, came forward to embrace their daughter, and Avelcome their friends. *' And where is my pet, my beauty, my lovely Ameri- can rose?" ]\L'ulame cried, witli very French effusion. '' Where is my beautiful evening star ? " *'■ Gracious, mamma! don't be so highfalutin I Kve, come here ; mamma wants you ! " " You darling child ! '' Madame exclaimed, kissing her on both cheeks, ''I am enraptured at seeing you :i:^ain. Let me look at you — they told me you were sick, but you are blooming as a June rosebud I " ^'1 am better, Madame," Eve said, with a little laugh and a viv id blush. ^' I am quite well again I " " I don't believe she was sick at all, mamma. It was I' ! ^v I n! 11 104 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. li f Ijj ^^ V It , '!i only a ruse, as Iluzel WooJ says, to s^et back to her dear New York. She likes it ever so mncli better than Mon- treal." " Very bad taste 011 Mademoiselle's part," said a gentle- man on whose arm ]Madanie Schaffer leaned, "noisy, rest- le.ss place that it is ! One stroll down Notre Dame street is worth a dozen Broadway promenades." •^^ Oil, Monsieur D^\rvilie, this is the first time you have seen your pupil — your star pupil, also — is it not ? How stupid of me ! Mademoiselle Ilazelwood, your future pre- ceptor. Monsieur D'Arville ! " Eve dropped her eyelashes and bowed. This then was the angel of Miss Kate Schaffer's dreams — strikingly hand- some, certainly, witli a dark, colorless, Creole face ; dark, dreamy eyes, half closed, and a little sleepy-looking in re- pose, but that could open and flash lire, too, when roused, as a secoiul glance would tell you ; a low, broad brow ; a mouth compressed and a triHo stern ; and liands and feet of most lady-like delicacy and smallness. lie was not tall, rather unut I was just thinking, as you two came up, what I always tliink when I make a new acquaintance, whether or not they will have any influence over my fut- ure life." " Quien sale ? " laughed Kate. '* What an old philoso- pher it is." " Perhaps," said Hazel, with a small sneer, '' she thinks they will both fall in love with her or have done so, at first sight ! " *' Bah ! 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 seen the future, or had Hazel Wood known she had uttered a propliecy, they would hardly have gone with such light hearts to join in the pensioiinaires\fele. Be happy to-day, Eve, rejoice while you may, for your happy girlhood is flying from you even at this Iiour I CHAPTER Xm. , THE END OF THE FETE. Professor Claude IVAkville stood leanin^^ against the trunk of a giant pine, whose long arms cast giant shadows on the sunny sward, watching with dreamy, half-closed ej^es the picture before him. He looked like an artist, this dark-eyed, thoughtful-browed, classical-featured young Canadian, and he looked what lie was — an artist heart .;iid 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 Lon- 1 i I i .1 f 1 1 ji 1 ;l ,: j:; »IH I* fi ' ail 1' io8 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. don, was one of the first of his paintings to win him fams. Tlie cloudless summer sky over his head, fleeced with billows of downy white, and away in the West, where the sun was sinking, an oriflamme of purple, gold and crimson, the whole western horizon radiant with rosy light. The pines, tlie tamaracs, and maples reared their tall heads against it ; its vivid glory of coloring glittering on their green loaves, as their branches rustled softly in the light breeze, .'ind 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 the grasslioppers at his feet, made an under- current of melody of their own, audible even above the crashing of the brass-band, and tlie shouting and vocifor- oub talking and laugliing of tlie emancipated schoolgirls. The pine-tree beside which he stood was an eminence com- manding a view of the whole grounds, with its glens and walks, and summer-houses, and cascades, and jxirterres, and broad lawns, and sloi)ing glades. Up and down thcso shaded walks the white muslin skirts and blue ribbons of the p(.'iisio)inaires fluttered beside the black dress-coats of Louis SclialTer's fellow-students from one of the Montreal colleges. Kate Schalfer lijid said there would be half a dozen gentlemen at tlie/"^/6'; had she said two dozen, she would have been nearer the mark ; but, not being a prophetess, how was she to tell her irrepressible brother in- tended inviting half his classmates ? On the lawn, some were dancing ; among the trees, some were swinging , groups were seated together on the grass having sociable chats ; white muslin and black coats turn- ing and twisting everywhere ; and the band under the tamaracs still playing ^' Vivo la Canadicnne ! " Professor D'Arville saw all this, and something else too. Three of those \/hito-muslin ans^els were comino; 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 brunette a daughter of the land, and queen of i\\Q fete ; and the third, who walked in the center, swinging her straw hat by its rosy ribbons, lier black curls entwiued with crimson geranium-blossoms and deep-green leaves. Ah, Professor D'Arville ! artist and beauty-worshiper, is there anything in all you see before you as fair as shs ? THE END OF THE FETE. 109 No Canadian, though her eyes are like bhick stars, and those ringlets of jetty darkness, that delicate complexion and bright bloom of color belong to another land. Look as long as you please on the beauty of sky and earth, or tree and flowers, it is not half so dangerous as one glance at that noble and lovely head. " Vive la Canadienne ! et ses beaux yeux, Et ses beaux yeux tons doux, Et ses beaux yeux,'' I ? hummed a voice behind him ; and turning his lazy glance, Monsieur D'Arville saw Paul Schaffer lounging up, look- ing at the three girls, too. He touched his hat, with a meaning smile, to the young artist. ^' I need not ask if monsieur is enjoying himself. I see that he is." "Yes, monsieur ; solitude is enjoyment sometimes." *' Pardon, that I have broken it ; but it was likely to be broken anyway, in a pleasanter manner, perha})s. See ! The three belles of the fete are coming toward 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 ! " Professor D'Arville fixed his eyes in a steady stare on Mr. Schaffer's face, in a way that would have discomposed any other man, but did not in the least disturb the bland equanimity of the young gentleman before him. "^ A deuced pretty girl, that ]\[iss Eve llazelwood ! 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 silence, cold and haughty. " They call her La Pri/tres^e in the school," wont on easy Mr. Schaffer, "and, by Jove, she looks it I Talk about the beaux yeax of our Canadian girls ! I never saw such a pair of eyes in my life as Miidenioiselle 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 moou, if all I have heard of her be true. I \\ no THE RIVAL BROTHERS. M ir li i;^ I fS^ ^' f: 1 ' i ii } ! 'i' 1. I If! r „ 1' i 1 I 1: i I ,1 "^ i:; 'i iV' like flesh and blood, not statues. One live woman is worth a thousand marble ones." Professor D'Arville made a gesture toward Hazel, who was laughing at something until her cheeks were crim- son. '' If monsieur Hkes flesh and blood, he has it there. The future Madame ScliafTer — is it not ?" '^ Will you have a cigar, monsieur ? " was Paul Schaffer's answer. " Xo ? Then, with your permission, I will." "Why, here's Paul I" 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 Scliaifer was not destined to hear; for, just then, there was a tremen- dous shout, and Louis himself came bustling 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." "^ Mon Dieu ! has that madhead gone crazy ? " was Kate's cry, while the rest stared. '' Gone crazy ? Catch me at it ! Here, you old Meg Merrilies, or whatever they call you, come this way ! Here's another batch that want you to spae their fortunes." Half a dozen girls and as many young men, with a vast deal of noise and tumult, and in their midst an outlandish- looking flgure. It was an old woman, bent, and leaning on a stick ; her brown, shriveled face and small, 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 witch-like 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 Avitches, 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 perform.ance ; and noAV. if you have any spare change about you, siie is willing to lift the veil of the future for you. Eve, liold out your hand, and let us hear what the future has in store for you beside a coffin ! " ''No!" said Eve, shrinking back. ''Let Kate and Hazel try, if they wish; I had rather not," THE END OF THE FETE. Ill ler a kne s! [he mt )U. ire ind The old woman, whose eyes had been darting from one face to another, turned them, at the sound of lier voice, on Eve, and, to the surprise of every one, broke out into a shrill and irrepressible cry. It was not a cry of astonish- ment ; it was more like triumph, repressed almost instantly ; but her eyes cleamed with a strange lire, and the dirty, skinny hand she lield out trembled with eagerness. ^' Yes, yes, ye.-^, my pretty lady I " she exclaimed, shrilly ; '* let me tell your fortune ! Don^t be afraid, my dearie ; the future can have nothing but good in it for one so beau- tiful 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 shrunk further away. "No ; don't trouble yourself about my future. I daro say, 1 will know it soon enough." ^' Oh, botheration ! '' broke out Louis ; '" don't be such a guy, Eve ! Let the old girl tell your fortune. She does it strong, I tell you I '' *' Xo," said Eve, resolutely turning away. " I shall not tempt the future, even in jest. Besides " — half laughing — *' I have no money, and the onicle is a golden glutton, and will not speak unless bribed." A storm of wordy abuse fell unheeded on Eve's ear as she turned away ; and, lifting her eyes, she caught Pro- fessor D'Arville's penetrating glance lixed upon her. '' So you have no faith in destiny ?" " 1 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! You see I know your age, mademoiselle. 1 knew beforehand you had con- siderable moral courage, but 1 did not know it was quite so strong." *' Monsieur pays me a compliment," Eve said, licr heart fluttering a little. '^ I assure you, I can be obstinate enough when I please ! Are you going up to the iiouse : " ''If mademoiselle will permit me to accompany hor." Eve bowed, and Professor D'Arvillo offered his arm. A dark and sinister glance followed them ; and Louis Schaf- !'.! mm 112 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. !^ U\ I i fer touched Hazel on the arm, with a slight and contemp- tuous laugh. *^See, llazel ! One would think they had known each other from tlieir cradles. Paul and Virginia, eh ? " '* Tliev make a very nice couple, I think. How do you like Eve ?" Mr. Schaffor raised his eyebrows. *' Oh, so-so. A pretty girl with black eyes, but notliing to set the St. Lawrence on fire. She is a sort of second Minerva, is she not ? In making her, they forgot to add that trifling item, a heart." '' Nonsense, Paul ! " But Hazel's face was radiant malgre cela. "1 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 everv one admires her." *' And so do I, immensely — as I admire sculptured Di- anas and Niobes. But as to falling in love with anything so celestially cold — bah ! " '^ Oil, Paul !" — and Hazel's hands clasped his arm, and Hazel's beaming face was uplifted in ecstasy — *' I am glad ; I am so glad ! Do you know I Avas 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 vould please you." "What is it, Paul?'' '* Come up to the house ; I don't want all these gaping girls to hear. It is this : the regiment are ordered off somewhere, and, before they go, give a grand ball. Will you come 9 " }} '^Oh, Paul, I can't ! " Oil, 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 Montreal in an hour and a half, and vou can return by tlic four o'clock express in the morning. You will have a night's pleasure, and Madame Moreau nor any of her dragons be the wiser " But, Paul " j^ a V " Here she is ! " shouted Kate Schaffer. " I have found her ! I thought I would." And her black Canadian eyes, those laughing, roguish 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 are ordered home, or rather back to prison. You are the only missing lamb of the fold ; and detachments have been sent out in every direction in search of you." *' Oh, yes I " said Hazel, joining in ; " we thought some- body had run away with — out you ! ITurry now, or you'll get a lecture as long as to-day and to-morrow." The carriages were at the door, and i\\c pcnsionnaircs, cloaked and hooded, being packed into them by the de- voted young collegians. Louis Schalfer, his cousin Paul, and Monsieur D'Arville, stood near one as Eve came out the last, and it was Paul Schaffer who advanced with ex- tended hand, while Louis was cluitting volubly with the girls already stowed witliin the vehicle, ami the professor stood at a little distance, looking quietly on. '" We thought La Princesse 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 Mademciselle Hazel- wood in." " Off she goes ! " cried Louis, as Eve, scarcely touching his cousin's hand, ste})ped lightly in ; " the last, the brightest, the best ! Good night. Eve, and pleasant dreams — dream of nie ! " A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 11/ " Adieu, madcinoiselle,'' Paul Scli.'ifTcr ?aitl, liftiug licr luuid to liis lips before she was ;i\v;irc : '* I .shall loug I'c- ineni])cr tliis evening ! Adi(!U, and (tu nroir!'' Witli an iuiperious gesture, the girl snatched her hand away, her cheeks ilusliing scarlet. Another gentlennui ste})ped up to the carriage door, and shut it. ** Good night, Miss Ilazelwooil," he said in English ; " Good niglit, young ladles all." ^' B()}i i I CHAPTER XIV. A TEMPEST IX A TEAPOT. A RAIXY afternoon in St. Croix — a dog^'ed, determined, out-and-out rainy day, with a sky of lead above, and a soaking, steaming, sodden earth below. A dreary after- noon in St. Croix, dull at the best in the brightest sun- shine, but doubly dull in wet weather, when you might walk in mud from one extremity of the village to the other without meeting a living thing, except, ])erhaps, some draggled, skulking dog, the outcast and Pariah of his tribe. A dismal afternoon in the prusifnumf des dcuxii- selles ; its playground deserted, its day-scholars gone home in the great covered carryall, kept by madame for such emergencies, and darkness and dullness brooding over its empty carves and long corridors. It was the hour of recess, too ; but the gloomy evening seemed to have imparted w^^ Ii8 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ii # it 1-^ It ' ', ll' :■? I !■ I'l"!' some of its gloom to Madame Morean's pupils ; for instead of making day liideoiis with their iijjroar, according to custom, they had slouched off to their rooms and gone to sleep, or in hidden corners were poring over novels, or, gathered in groups, were gapingly discussing tlie great Schaft'er/f'/^', not yet two days old. The babies of the Fourtli Division, too young in the blessedness 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 tlie solitude of the 2)e}]!s : " 'Oh, poor Robinson Criisoe ! How could you go for to do so ! Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, Oil. poor Robinson Crusoe ! He Jiad a man Friday, To keep his house tidy.' Hallo ! Is this whce you are, perched u]) like some dis- mal old owl, or some vvhat's-its-name, a pillow-case in the Avilderness ? " This last did not belong to the canticle slie was chanting, but was addressed by the singer to the pensive young lady in the window, who turned round leisurely at the inter- ruption. *^ Is it you. Hazel ? What do you want ? " *• ' He built him a boat, Of the skin of a gont. And he christened it Robinson Crusoe,"' A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 119 ^rvstcries of What's tliis ? I might liave You snng Ilazol Wood, ski])i)ingup adroitly beside Eve ; '^ you ought to have been Mrs. Rohiuson Crusoe. You would have made a sweet pair of pokes, you would. WHiat do T Avaut ? The pleasure of your charming society, ruy love. It's a little better than yawuiug myself to death uji-stairs.'' '' I thought you were asleep." '' Xever was wider awake in my life ! I was reading ! " *' You reading I I like that I" '"Ton my word ! It was a novel, though, and one of Eugene Sue's at tliat !" ''Oh, Hazel I" " There ! don't faint ! It wasn't the Paris ' — I never could wade through that. Oh, 'A Journey Round my Chamber!' _ .-, - known it was something stupid and luguljrious ! ought to go and be a nun at once : you are half one now." " }diss Wood, if you only came here to lecture me, I beg you will take your departure again as ()ui(d ! Pi I < i Jill 122 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. which was very fur from being Miss Wood's case. Eve smiled involuntarily as she heard it, and leaving the carve without another word, descended to the .^nlle a maiujcr. ''Hazel will think })otter of it," she mused; "1 don't believe slie will go without her tea." Eve was right. As soon as she was gone, Hazel dried lier eyes, and took her lacerated heart down-stnirs, to seci^ consolation in the pale, lukewarm fluid, known in board- ing-schools as tea, and its accompanying slices of trans- parent bread and butter. Fifteen minutes was the time allotted for devouring these dainties. At the end of that poriod, a signal was given to rise ; grace was said by the })r('siding teacher, and the ceremony was over. Silence being the austere law at meal-time, ten minutes Avere al- lowed the ,erfume, and flirting out her gauzy skirts, she twirled round like a Avhirlwind, and settled sud(k4dy down before her com})anion, in what cliildren call " mak- ing a cheese," her pink dress ballooning out all around her. ^* Ma bonne confine! ma chore Princcssc ! my darling Eve ! how do you like me ? " The young lady addressed stood at some distance, draw- ing on her gloves. At all times, in any dress, Eve liazel- I :* l.s m 126 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. f" wood mnst he beautiful, but she looked unusually lovely to-night. It might have been that her dress was most be- coming ; amber crape, with trimmings of rich lace and creamy roses ; her only ornament a slender gold chain and cross, and the glossy black curls falling in glittering dark- ness over her shoulders. If Hazel was flushed, Eve was pale — something unusual for her — and that and tlie pen- sive look her sweet face wore gave, perhaps, the new charm to her fresh young beauty. She and llnzel had smoked the calumet of peace, though Miss AVood had not gone to the ball, and Mr. Paul Schaffer had lieard the whole affair, and formed his own opinion accordingly. She looked up now, and surveyed lier cousin with a critical eye. " You look in good health, for your face is as red as your dress, but you smell rather strong 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'll do nothing of the sort ! " indignantly. "You wouldn't have me go in a bag, I hope ! It fits like a worsted stcckini? on a man's nose ! " CD " Now, Hazel, you know you broke three corset-laces 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 " " 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 whiit is one to do ? I can't go looking like a hogshead round the waist, and I must lace up to be a decent figure. I don't see 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 Eva, laughing ; " and wluit's moi-e, I am afraid there is no help for it. However, Paul Schatfer doesn't mind " " I)e:ir, darling Paul," burst out the gushing ^fiss AVood, her eyes dancing fandangos in her head. " Oh, Eve ! isn^t it 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, EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 12/ t. |s3 IS, he to the surprise of every one, announced liis intention of going over the Athmtic in the same steamer with Doctor Lance and his wards. Jlazel's first sensation, on being told of her removal to anotlier hind, liad ijecn one of in- tensest dismay. Wiiat will Paul say ? JIuw could I leave Paul ? had been her lirst distracted thought. I'aul settled the matter at once. " I have been waiting to visit Old England this long time, petite," ho said coolly, " and now is the time. I will go over with you, my darling, and see what kind of place this ancestral home of you Hazel woods is." And from that instant Hazel's earthly happiness was complete. ''1 don't see why you can't like him, Eve," she said, petulantly ; '•' you have no right to be so i)rejudiced. If 1 lost him," with a little passionate gesture, '•I should die : " There was so much of desperate earnestness in poor Ilazcl's tones, that Eve was touched. She took the burn- ing cheeks between her cool hands, and bending dowji, kissed her. '' My darling, I will trv to like him for vour sake, but he is not half good enough for you ! " " I tell you he is ! He is good enough for a princess I " ^•Xotfor nie I " laughed Eve. "i v»ould not marry him if he were to make me a q leen ! But all to their taste. Are you engaged ? " '• Xo — yes — I don't know. He loves me, and I him — but it that's enough." *" Is it ? I know nothing about such things seems to me he should speak to our guardian." ^' What I to that old death's-head -and- cross - bones, lV)ctor Lance ? No, think you. Wait till we go to England, and then I know^ he will ask our other guardian, cousin Arthur. He cannot be such an old snapping-turtle, surely, as this one.'^ '' ilazel, look here. Is he my cousin, too " Why, of course he is I Why shonldrr't he be ? " ^'I don't know, but sometimes I think — Hazel, do you know I scii"cely ever heard any thing of my father and mother ? " "Why, they're both dead and buried ages ago,'' said 5 -v i t 128 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. i \ m I .Ti M Hazel, drawing on her gloves. ^^What on earth did } on want to hear about them ? " " Your mother never would speak of them. She used to put me of!. And Doctor Lance, the only time I ever summoned up courage enough to speak to him on tlie snb- ject, told me to hold my tongue, and be thankful 1 ever had a father and mother at all, for it was more than I de- served." " And served you right, too," was Hazel's sympathetic answer, ''' dragging dead people out of their graves. There, I declare they're calling us ! Where's my hood and shawl ? Are you ready ? " ** Yes," said Eve, hastily donning her wraps ; '' perhaps Babettc and Hermine are to pack up for ns, and have our trunks ready wlien called for. Are they not ? " '* Yes, yes. come along, or all the rest will get into the carriages before us, and we will get our dresses awfully- mussed up." Eva cast one last long look beiiind. ^' Good-by, old room," she said ; " I have been very liappy here — happier, perhaps, than I will ever be in the land whore I am going." Half a dozen carriages, not to speak of the huge carry- all belonging to the school, known to the girls as NoaL^ Ark, were drawn up before the door, and the ecstatic pciisioiuiaires crowded in, and in twenty minutes were crowding out again in front of the Schaffer homestead. The building was one sheet of light from cellar to grenier ; and the regimental band, perched up in the gallery of the ball-room, was in full blast at the eternal " Vive la Can- tidiemie." *'Vive la Yankee-enne ! " commenced Hazel Wood, leaping into the extended coatsleeves of her adored Paul. " We're no Canadians, for which, oh, be joyful !" *MVelcome, ma petite ! ^^ exclaimed Madame Schaffer, sweeping up, gorgeous to look at, in ruby satin, and em- eralds, and kissing HazeFs two red cheeks, '' and welcome, my lovely Eve. But, Mo?i Die?if where have your roses gone to, child ? You are as white as a spirit." '* Hazel has them." Eve smiled as she ran up stairs to *' Louis, don't pull the dress off my do you want ?" waltz, Eve ! We're parting — where is my her dressing-room. T, n EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 129 •y- ad. er, ni- ne, 3ses s to my pocket-lijindkercliief ? It may be for years, and it may be forever, as Kathleen Mavourneen remarks, and it's tlie least you can do. Say yes." **Ye3, yes; let me go! Here comes Doctor Lance and Monsieur D'Arville I They will say we are ilirt- i»g-" . ... " Tliey never made a greater mistake in their lives, then," said Louis, sauntering oil, while Eve ran up-stairs after the rest. All was confusion and most admired disorder in the drawing-room, v/here every one was talking and laughing at the tiptop of her lungs, and paying no attention to her neighbor. "Talk about Babel I " exclaimed Hazel, tripping past Eve, "after this tumult. Hurry up, Eve, if you don't want to be deafened for life." Eve, consigning lier wraps to a servant, shook out her floating skirts, glanced at her curls and at the bright face the mirror reflected, and left tlie noisy scene. At the foot of the grand staircase she encountered Louis Schaffer. " Here you are at last I " cried that young gentleman, briskly. '' What a shocking length of time it does take you girls to settle yonr furbelows !" (Eve had been gone about six minutes.) '* Come along, our waltz will com- mence in a brace of shakes." *' What length of time is a brace of shakes, Louis ? " laughed Eve, as she took his arm and entered the bril- liantly-lighted and well-fielld ball-room. ** Never you mind, it's that long. Oh, my, what have we here ? " Quite a large circle were gathered nenr the center of the room, who, judging from tlieir peals of laughter, were evidently enjoying themselves immensely. Among them, with an amused smile on liis face, stood Professor D'Ar- ville, and in the center of tlie group stood Paul Schaffer, with Hazel and half a dozen of the wild pensionnaires around him. "Eve, Eve, come here!" called Kate Schaffer, "and defend yourself. Hazel Wood is telling tales out of school." "Relating dreadful legends of your goings on in Xew "York, mademoiselle," said the young professor, turning iV my ^4 II I30 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. Nf^l ;|1 ;!-! his amused face to the young hid y he addressed. ''Are tliey all true ? " "Of course tliey are/^ shrilly cried Ilazeh ''I never tell fibs." ''Except where the truth don't answer," put iu Louis Scl] alter, .soflo voce. "Mr. SchafTer, I'll thank you not to be impertinent; you know nothing about it. Oh, we used to have glorious times in the long vacations, and Eve, prim as she looks, can't deny it. We used to promenade J^roadway — clean, delightful, delicious Broadway — at all hours of the day and night, staring at the nice young men loafing and pick- ing their teeth on the liotel steps, disporting ourselves Sundays in the Park on two charming ponies we had, and turning the heads of everything masculine we came across ! Didn't we Eve ? " " Do come away, said Eve to Louis, her cheeks flushing, and feeling annoyed beyond measures, she scarcely knew why, at Hazel's exaggerated expose. Perhaps because Paul Schaffer was staring at her so olTensively as he caressed his mustache ; perhaps," because of that amused and queer smile on Monsieur D'Arville handsome Creole face ; perhaps, — but who can read a girl's reasons when she cannot even do it herself. " Then there was Burnum's Museum in the afternoon," went on the reckless Hazel, " when we used to go to the theater, and ])ush, and pull, a?id crowd in with the rest of the female mob who frcquen 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, from a wheelbarrow wy). He was 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 I " Eve repeated, every vein tingling with the intense mortification ; but Louis was enjoying the fun amazingly, and held her fast. "And what's more," Hazel continued, lowering her voice to a tlirilliug whisper, " we used to go to the Bowery Theater. Our gentlemen wouldn't take us there, so we paid the waiter-man in the house where we boarded to escort us. Eve only went once, and after hard coaxing EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. 131 !e .0 g then ; but I went lots of times, and there never was sueh f'ln. Oh, my lieart will certainly break after Ts'ew York." ** Tor pity's sake, Louis, let me go I'' 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 excitable nature at all times, seemed lialf out of herself to nic^ht. " What, you're never crying. Eve ! ' exclaimed Louis ; a.nd Professor D'Arville glanced at the beautiful, mortified face through his half-closed eyes. " "What a geese you are, to be sure ! Oh, hero's our waltz. OIT we go then." Very little the belle of the ball — for such undeniably Eve was — enjoyed that waltz. '' llow he must despise me ! " her jiaincd heart kept cry- ing bitterly all the time. " He ! " Ah, that tell-tale little pronoun — even Eve, the iceberg, had come to it iil last. Louis would have carried her olf in search of ice when the dance was concluded, but Eve shook him olf rather peremptorily, and started in search of her cousin, bent on reading her a lecture. Hi the cool recess of a deep window she found her seated, flushed after the waltz, fanning her- self violently, and fortunately alone. Paul Schaffer had gone in search of a glass of ice v\'ater for his hot little partner. Eve broke upon her, with scarlet cheeks and flashing eyes, and began the attack without preface. '^ Hazel, have you gone mad ? AYhat did you mean by telling all those atrocious fables to that gaping crowd half an hour ago, and making us the laughing-stock of the room ? If you have no respect for yourself, you might have a little consideration for me." *' Eh?" said Hazel, looking up in surprise. '^ AVhat's all this about ? What's the matter with you ? " "The matter I " said Eve, in a tone of suppressed passion. *' You made a pretty show of yourself and me to- night, did you not ? " *' La ! I only told the truth I " *' It was not the truth ; at least, you exaggerated most shamefully. AVhat must those who heard you think ? Professor D'Arville will have a fine opinion of his pupils." *' Bah ! Who cares ! An old schoolmaster like him !" " He is not a schoolmaster ! " iV n.2 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 'I -i I* '™ i m - i " Positive, school ; comparative, schoolmaster ; super- lative, professor ! It's worse ! Besides, we are not his pupils any more ; we are going to ' Merrie England/ ' England, my country — great and free ! Heart of the world ! I leap to thee ! ' Professor D'Arville may go to grass I " *' I have only one thing to say," exclaimed Eve, who, being only mortal — poor thing ! — like the rest of us, was intensely angry : " that if I ever hear you telling such abominable tales again, you and I will not be friends for the rest of our lives ! Remember that I " Paul Schaifer was coming up with the ice-water, and Eve swept away, catching Hazel's shrill exclamation as she went : '^ Why, Paul, here's Eve raging like a Bengal tiger be- cause I said all that awhile ago, and Professor O'x'Vrville heard it. Did you ever ? " In no mood at that moment for enjoyment, and hot al- most as Hazel herself, Eve stepped through one of the large French windows, out on the lawn for the drawing- room was on the ground floor. Something else had an- noyed her on the way ; Kate Schaffer was singing, like a nightingale, some charming Italian songs, and Professor D'Arville 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 ! Siiehad got into a most unhappy state of mind that night, and everything was going wrong. Kate Schaffer 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 beeiiuse of that ? The weird, white summer-moon, sailing serenely up in the blue-black concave of heaven, with her myriad of stars keep- ing court about her, looked down on the flushed cheek and troubled breast of tlic young girl leaning against the pine- tree, as it lias looked on many another young girl in similiar trouble. Eve saw nothing of the solemn Ijeauty of the night. Slie was thinking that to-morrow she left Canada forever, and perhaps tlie first news she would hear in fai- otf England would be 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 ; I ^'i.U: f EVE'S FIRST PROPOSAL. ^SS and, just as she was brooding drearily over it, two gentle- men came up tiie path to the house, smoking cigars and talking. Eve recognized them, and drew back into the shadow of the trees. One was her guardian. Doctor Lance ; the other, Monsieur Schalfer, senior. " And so," Monsieur Schaffer was saying, " D'Arville has really accepted this situation ? " ** D'Arville has really accepted the situation of secretary to Mr. Arthur Hazelwood, and goes to England in the same steamer with me,'' Doctor Lance replied. "Iliad no idea he would when I spoke to him about it- -told him Hazelwood had written to me to find and fetch him a com- petent secretary — the man himself always was abominably lazy from a boy. I spoke to D'Arville to see if he knew any one in Montreal who would suit. Ilis answer wiis : '^ ' Yes.' " ' Who is he ? ' I asked. "' ' Myself,' was his reply. " Of course, 1 jumped at the offer — saved me trouble, you see. The salary is a good one, the situation easy ; but D'Arville is a fool, for all that. The young nuin has talent, and I iiever before thought he wanted ambition." The two passed in, and Kve came out fi'oni the shadow with an altered face and an a'tered heart. As she did so, a step sountied behind her ; a tall iigui'c was by her side in the moonlight, and Paul Schail'er'sdark eyes were u])ou lier face. Something in that look startled Eve. She turned to go, but he detained her. " Why do you always fiy from me 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 Avay of answer, and stood looking straight before lu;r. Paul Schaffer lowered his voice, his eyes, and his tall head. " I have been searching I'oryou the past iifteen minutes. I have somethinsf verv particular to sav."" Eve's heart beat faster, and for one instant she glanced hurriedly around, as if to ily. " Xo, no! You must not go! Miss irazelwood— Eve — you leave Canada to-morrow. I must speak to vou to- night !" *' I must go into the house ! " Eve said, in a violent tremor. " I shall be missed I " 134 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. i * j : ti She turned to go, but he caught her, and the words she dreaded to hear were spoken. With a sharjicry she broke from him, and stood, with parted lips and panting heart, looking at him with dilated eyes. '^ I love you, Eve I " he still cried. " May I liope ?" The eyes that looked at him were full of horror, and her hands flew up and covered lier face. "^ Oh, 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 re- fuge in a remote and closely-curtained window, and crouched down, feeling as if her wliole life had changed within the hour, as if the earth were reeling under her feet, and youth, and innocence, and happy girlhood gone like a dream. Yes, Eve, the happy days of careless youth have gone forever ; womanliood with its deeper joys and sorrows opens before you, and the Book of Life has turned over a new page. CHAPTER XVL HAZELWOOD HALL. PiEii Xo. — was crowded. Throngs of people were pour- ing to it in one steady stream ; carts, carriages and vehicles of all sorts rattled over the stony city street, and deposited their inside freight of travelers and their outside freight of baggage on the thronged pier, blazing under ii scorching July sun. " Everybody " was supposed to have left Xew York, but New York looked tolerably full yet, judging from the number in this particular spot, coming to see their friends otf for EngUuid, or from idle curiosity. Tlie steamer's deck was thronged, too ; in fact, every availa])le portion of the steamer, excepting tlie smokepipc, was thronged, and great and mighty Avas tlie upi'ojir tliereof. Among tlie many groups, a little knot of four persons stood, two ladies and two gentlemen. Place aux danws ! The ladies were very young, mere girls in their teens, and one very pretty. It was the tall one with the coquettish turban that sat so jauntily on her black curls, the scarlet HAZELWOOD HALL 135 f tip of its black plume not brighter than the living scarlet on clieek and lip ; her tightly-fitting black basqnine show- ing off to perfection a superb figure, lithe and slender as a young willow, and the ir:orning sunlight floated back from a pair of luminous dark eyes, of unfatliomable depth and brightness. She leaned lightly against the railing, the breeze fluttering her gray dress, the black lace veil she held in her gloved hand, waving like a black banner, the jetty curls, and deepening the roses in hur cheeks, as she gazed at the crowd before her and talked Wi,.]i her companion. It urns the other young lady, a jolly liotle damsel, plump and dcbonnairc, whose laughing face was all aglow with excitement, and whose tongue ran in a i)er]ietual flow of title-tattle. For the gentlemen : one was dark, elderly, sharp-looking, and wore spectacles ; the other young, eminently handsome, and languidly indifferent to the vulgar uproar about liim. Of course you recognize them — Eve, Hazel, Doctor Lance anl Professor J3'Arville — professor no longer, I)ufc simply Monsieur Claude D\\rville, sci^'ctary to the Hon- orable Arthur Ilazelwood, of Hazelwood, County of Essex, England. And they are fairly off on their journey at last. And Hazel's chattering tongue was running on inces- santly. "Eve, look there I How killingly that gentleman step- ping from the hack is got up ! Why, my goodness ! I declare if it's not Don Signor Monsieur .Mustache Whis kerando himself I " Eve looked, knowing very well wlio Tlazel meant, and. sav,' a foreign-looking and most distinguished gentleman alight from a hack, liis cloak over his shoulder, in s})iteof the heat of that boilinLr Julv morning, and liis sombrcn'o pulled over his eyes. Tlio memory of a moonlight night, of a Canadian village, and a sh-anger sli[)ping uj) to the gate over which she leaned, fliislied back on Eve's mind. '^It's ^Mister ^lendez, 1 vow 1" Hazel was crying. "It can't be possible, you know, that he " Hazel stopped suddenly. Among the surging sea of liuman beings, ebbing and flowing on the pier, another form had caught her eyes, that of a young man, who ap- proached Senor Mendez, ])assed his arm through his and walked with Lim on board. Eve saw hiiu at the same M r ' i' 136 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. i fc"f .1 if' i time, and lier brows contracted in si)ite 01 IJazel's joyful little cry : '' Oh, Eve ! tliere is Paul ! " '* I see liim !" Eve said, in a vexed tone, " and they are coming here I " Slie tl)re\v the veil she held over lier hat to hide her tiushed and annoved face. She had not seen Paul 8chalfer since that memorable night at his aunt's, and the scene under the pine-tree came back, and its hateful memory burned like fire in her face. Some one touched 'ler lii>"htlv on the shoulder, and D'Arville's dark eyes were piercing througli the vail. " Here are two of your friends, mademoiselle. Ah ! I perceive you have seen them ! " His tone and smile annoyed her intensely, but the two new-comers had forced their way along the deck and stood before them, hat in hand. Very coldly, very slightly, Miss Ilazelwood acknowledged Mr. Schalfer's salute, choosing to ignore altogether the liand he extended, but Talleyrand himself never was more completely Jind utterly nonchalant than he. If the waters of Lethe h'.:d been a reality, and he had drunk out the memory of this last iiitorview, 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 hav- ing the right, and bore him off, Avhiie the Cuban prince attached himself to Doctor Lance and D'Arville. So Eve stood quite alone, listening to the storm of good-bys on every hand and watching the receding shore as they steamed away on their outward-bound course, to the part- ing cheer from the land, and then a mist came over the briarht, dark eves. "Good-by to America! my native land ! ^' her heart cried. "1 have been very happy tliere — how will it bo with me in the land to which 1 go ? " There was no prophetic voice in Eve's soul to answer the question. The merciful veil that shrouds the future no enrthly eyes might pierce ; and Eve stopped in her musings to listen to a girlisli voice near, singing, clear and sweet, Childc llaroUrs farewell to England : HAZELWOOD HALL. 137 " Adieu, adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters hhie, The niglit-svindssigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild seumew ! " Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight, Farewell awhile to him and thee — My native land, good-night!" " Not good night, tlie Lord be tlianked !" said a broad voice, cutting in, '' for it's just breakfast-time ! " Tliere was a general langli and rush for the cabin. D'Arville smilingly offered his arm to Eve, and sentiment was presently lost sight of in sandwielies ; and coffee and beefsteaks took the place of tears and parting regrets. "AVill you be sea-sick, mademoiselle ?" Senor jVIendez asked Eve. They were all sitting up on deck again, tlie land nearly out of sight, and Eve was between the Creole and D'Ar- ville. '' I don't know," she said, laughing. " Tlnit remains to be seen yet. This, you know, is my first voyage. Shall you ? " '^ Oh, no I I am an old sailor, and I never was sick in mv 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 must endure it all for a couple of wretched girls " The crabbed little doctor's voice died away piani.ssiino, in a succession of growls ; and Hazel, who sat next him, rose abruptlv, with a very white and miserable face. " I— I think ni go below ! I don't feel " "No, I should think you didn't," said Paul, trying to keep grave, but laughing in s})ite of himself, as Iljizel's voice died away. " Allow me to lead you down-stuirs." Eve followed, and for the rest of the day wjis kept busy enough waiting on Hazel, who was wretchedly sick, ;i]id amid her groans, and throes, and tears, protested she must die. It was late on the second day of the voyage before Eve ; ,ii m i ■• 138 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. SI m (1^ li SfRi i;! '' Ah : then Ave can syrnpatliize. I have spent half tlie coiihl leave her and go on deck to catch a monthful of fresh air. Fortunately for her she had escaped the mal- de-mer completely ; and beyond being fagged out waiting on her sick and cross little cousin felt as well as when she had started. Wofnlly thin the deck looked to what it had done at the starting ; very few ladies were there, and among the gentlemen only one face was familiar. He was leaning over the side watching the moon rise, red and round, out of the sea, like some fiery Venus, and smoking a cigar, but he threw it over board and startedupat siglit of Eve. " A thousand welcomes, mademoiselle ! I am liappier than happy to find you able to come up once more." *' Oh, I have not been sick, monsieur," Eve said, laugh- ing, and answering in French, as Senor Mendez had set the example. '-I have only been sick-nurse. My poor cousin is half dead ! " *' I regret to hear it. Here, sit down and let us see if this fresh breeze will not blow your roses back. They have wilted altogether in tlnit steaming and suffocating cabin." "= Where arc all the rest ?"Eve asked, taking the pref- er ed stool. *' In the same predicament asyonr cousin — all at death's door. Messieurs Lance, D'Arville, and Schaffcr ; and Iiob- inson Crusoe, in his desert, island, never was lonelier tliau I ! Providence, mademoiselle, mnst have sent you direct to my relief ; for I was falling into despair, and meditat- ing a leap overboard and into the other world, as you came up." ** And out of the frying-pan into the fire ! " *' Quen sdhe?'^ said the Creole, shrugging his shoulders, *^ we must only hope for the best ! Look at that moon- rise, mademoiselle — I have heard you were an artist." ''Who told you so ?" *' Monsieur D'Arville — he is a great friend of yours." Eve's face flushed. '* He was my teacher — at least, he would have been, had we not left Canada. I am no artist — I wish I were." ''I wish you were : you might immortalize yourself to- night. Do you care for the sea ?" *' Care, is not the word, monsieur — I love it.'* > HAZELWOOD HALL. 139 last fifteen years roving over land and sea. One of these rolling stones that gather no moss." They were both silent, he looking straight before him at the red moonrise, and the girl watching, under her eyelaslies, the bronzed, handsome face, and the silver tlireads gleaming in and out the raven hair. " ^Monsieur has been a great traveler, then ? " she said, at length, in a subdued tone. '* Over the world, mademoiselle, from Dan to Beersheba. 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 on tlie wiiole continent I have not done, and found the whole thing an insufferable bore." "And you have been — but why need I ask — of course, you liave been in England ?" '' Yes, mademoiselle ; I have explored that island — I have even beheld Hazel wood Hall." " Indeed ?" Eve cried, vividly interested. " I should like to hear r.bout that. Is it long ago ? " "^ Some five years. It is a fine old place, or would be in the hands of any other man than tlie Honora])le Arthur llazclwood. But pardon — he is your relative ?" '' I know nothing about him ; I never saw him in my life. Is he a mauvais siijvt, then ?" " lie is — but I shall tell you nothing about him — you must read him for yourself. I fear you will find your new homo rather lonely — the owner of Ilazelwood Hall receives no visitors, and never goes out." " A recluse, is he ? Did you see Miss Forest ? " '" The pale lady with the light hair, who keeps house for him ? Oh, yes, I saw her ; she never goes out, either — they grow old there, like jjotatoes in a cellar." " Ancl the place around — what is it ? — a town, a village, a wilderness — or what ? " *' A village, very pretty, very picturesque. They call it Monks wood.'' " And Ilazelwood Hall is the place of the place ? " " J3y no means ! It is eclipsed altogether by another place some seven miles oil, far older, far grander, and far more revered. Its name is Bhickmonks — Blackmonks Priory — and its owner is Lord Landsdowne." ww^^ > -, t ; !■ M t I- 140 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. r i m i '1 ■ ■\ . ■ 1 '.■ s ' 1 i ! t i J , i f'-ii 1 i 1 1 il \n *' Oil ! and the village has taken its name from the prior}'' ? " "Exactly. Long ago, when Mary was queen in Eng- land, this priory of Blackmonks was founded there, under her patronage. When Elizabeth came into power, the monks were sent adrift, and l^aron Landsdowne, a sturdy old warrior, whoso portrait still adorns the grand entrance- hall, took this place. It has been in tlie possession of the I^andsdownes ever since, and is likel} to be while the race lasts." '*Is the present Lord Landsdowne resident at the priory ?" ''Xot when I was there — he was on the continent with his lady, lie must have been a fine fellow, for he was idolized in the place. 1 think I would like Blackmonks ; it is quite maguifieent in its ancient grandeur, I assure you. Ilazelwood dwindles into notliing beside it." '' And Mr. ILizelwood is not liked in Monkswood ?" " Why, the fact is, mademoiselle, he is looked upon as a good deal of a stranger, and considerable of an intruder. lie is a Yankee, too — I beg your pardon," seeing her flush hotly ; " and, in short, there is no love lost between them. Perhaps it may be different now — I will find out when I go there." ^' Are you going there ? " '*' Yes ; I have business in Essex. Well, sir, what do you want ? " This last was addressed to one of the cabin-waiters who approached them. The man wanted i\liss Ilazelwood — the sick young lady in Xo. 35 had sent him in search of her ; and Eve had to go. That evening's conversation was but the beginning of many. Senor Mendez was clieering — he beguiled the long hours for lier with wonderful stories of his adventures in India, Africa, China, and the Holy Land — Eve thought the Thousand and One were nothing to him. Then, too, after the first week, D'Arville was able to come up, a little wan and sjiectral at first, after his sickness — but Eve blushed frankly at seeing him, and held out her hand with a shy grace, tiiat might have bewitched old Diogenes himself and, very pleasant to Miss Evangeline Ilazelwood was tlie voyage after that ; at least, the hours spent on deck. Doctor Lance, being as poor a sailor as HAZELWOOD HALL. 141 J his elder ward, was invisible also; and though Paul Schaffer made his appearance on deck, Eve was very little troubled with him. Once, finding her alone, he had attempted to accost her with his customary cool nonchalance, but La Princesitie had drawn back and up, with eyes tliat Hashed bhick flames, and had swept past him in sucii 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 PriJicesse reigns it right royally, bat I think I will humble her pride before she is many weeks older. I5e 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 Ma- dame Schaffer ; for Madame Schaffer you will be, in spite of earth and all it contains ! " From that time until the end of the voyage, Monsieur Schaffer never attempted to address Eve when alone ; but when others were with her, and she could not, without ex- citing remark, help 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 he who handed her in, leaving Miss Hazel, who had a sick and sea-green look still, to the care of D'Arville. He sat beside lier, too, all the way ; for he was going to Essex first ; he might as well travel with company while he could, he said ; and his proximity spoiled the journey for the young lady. D'Arville devoted himself to Hazel, who looked worried and jealous ; and Doctor Lance was deep in discussion with Senor Mendez on some new scientific discovery. Eve was heartily glad when, in the golden sunset of an August evening, thev rattled up co the terminus, and she saw the word, *^ Mox.kswood," painted above the little station. ** You come with me, I presume, monsieur ? " Senor Mendez said, leaning forward, and speaking to Mr. Schaffer. '' Of course. We are fellow-voyagers in our pilgrimage through this, to me, unknown land. Is there u hotel in. this one-horse village ? " 1 ...} W ^M I'S Wi i 142 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. i,t ', m 1' I ■ i ■: X •; ; i 11'. !i . If " There is an inn — a chef d'crnrrc in its way, I assure yon. Yon Jiad bettor take this fly, Doctor Lance — Miss Wood looks tit to die of fatigue." "My poor Hazel! You do look terribly used uj")," laughed Paul, " while Miss Eve's roses are still nuAvilted. Adieu, ladies ! Doctor, will we be allowed to go up to the hall and pay our respects ?" ^' I know nothing about it," snarled the doctor, whose temper was not inii)roved by the discomforts of traveling. ** Here, yon girls I pile in, and let's be off." The two gentlemen, left behind, took olf their hats to the young ladies as the lly drove awny, and then set ofli for tlieir inn. "A pretty place, this English village — is it not, mad- emoiselle ? " D'Arville sairl, s})eaking to Eve. ^^ Oh, it is charming ! These gardens and cottages, and queer old houses and churches, and there — Avhat place is that ?" "' Blackmonks Priory," said Doctor Lance, just glancing at a great park as they rattled by. '' We have no time for stopping to stare now. You'll see enough of it before you leave hero, I'll warrant you." They left the vilhige behind, and drove along a lovely country road, where the houses were few and far between, and Eve began to look out lor Hazel wood Hall. They soon reached it ; two great gates swung back to admit them, and they drove through the amber haze of sunset up a winding avenue to a great, gloomy-looking old house, silent and lonely as a tomb. " What a dismal old barn ! " said Hazel, fretfully. *^ And this is Hazelwood Hall ! I wish I was back in New York ! I'm sick of England already ! " A servant out of livery — a solemn-looking old man — opened the door, and stared aghast at the party. He ad- mitted them, however, answering Doctor Lance's sharp questions as he did so. " Yes ; nuistor was at home, but ill, and confined to his room ; and Miss Forest, she was in London, and would not bo back until next day. He would take the doctor's card, however, and see if he could be received ; meantime, would they be ])leMso(l to wait here ?" Eve scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry, as he ushered ( )t Id HAZELWOOD HALL. 143 them into a dark, and grand, and gloomy reception-room — it was all so different from what she had anticipated. " I wish I was back in \ew York — I do I " Hazel re- iterated, drearily. *^1 shall die in this horrid place — I know I shall ! "' The sober old servant was back directly. '* ^faster would receive the gentleman in his room, and one of the chambermaids, in the absence of Miss Forest, would attend to the young ladies." The chambermaid, a very spruce young lady, entered while he was speaking, and respectfully proffered to lead them to their rooms, which were ready and waiting. Eve cast a half-laughing, half dismayed, wholly-bewitch- ing glance back at D'Arville, and tripped from the room, up a grand staircase, slippery as glass, down a long hall, and into a chamber in the same large, somber and grand style as the rest of the house. Hazel's was adjoining ; but Hazel declared nothing earthly would induce her to pass the night alone in such a place, and despatclied the girl for refreshments, with information that she and her cousin would be roommates. *' And now I'm going to bed," said Hazel, after the tea and toast had vanished; ''for I feel as though I could, sleep a week ! Will you come ? " " No," said Eve, taking up her hat ; '' I am going out to have a look at the grounds. It is a great deal too early for bed. I wonder if I can find my way out ? " She did find her way out, somehow, and wandered down to the great gates, standing wide open. To her surprise, she found no less a personage than Senor Mendez there before her, talking to the porter, and smoking a cigar. ''You here?" Eve cried, in her astonishment. "I tliought you had gone to the inn." " So 1 did ; but I rode up here afterward ; there is my horse yonder. i[ow do you like your new home ? " Eve did not immedintely reply. A carriage was pass- ing — a very grand affair -drawn by two superb grays in silver harness, and from the window a face was looking out at them, as it roiled slowdy by. A lady's face, handsome and haughty, glancing out for an instant, and then disappearing. Eve turned to reply to the gentleman's question, buJi stopped again. h\.^ M' iii! fii^' 144 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. AVhat ailed Senor Meiidez ? Jlis face had turned as white as a dead man's, and his eyes were strained, as if tliey would start from his head, after the carriage, vanisli- ing in a cloud of dust. " Monsieur !" Eve cried out, in alarm, '*you are ill ! " Her voice aroused him. He turned to her, but, in spite of all his efforts, it was nearly a minute before he could speak. " It is nothing — a heavy spasm — quite gone now. ]\Iy friend " (to the gate-keeper) '' whose carriage is that ?" *' Lady Landsdowne's, sir," the man said ; *' and that was my lady herself a-looking out of the window." CHAPTER XVIL TWO OLD FIUEXDS. ¥ ? Ii: Through long corridors, wainscoted rooms, lofty and large, up sweeping staircases, and into galleries and gloomy drawing-rooms, where the furniture was black with age, and grim old ancestors and ancestresses, frowned down from oak panels. Eve and Hazel went the morning after their arrival in Hazelwood Hall. An old butler, as antique and gloomy as anything he showed them, was their cice- rone, and looking upon two young ladies in that house, where young ladies had never been before, time out of mind, very much in the light of interlopers, he vouchsafed them as little information as possible about what they saw. Monsieur D'Arville was closeted with the invisible master of the mansion, and had suggested the idea at breakfast to kill time until he should be released. " A horrid old barn as ever I saw 1 " was Hazel's dis- pleased criticism, looking round the dim old saloon. *^I wish I was back in New York ; the Tombs there was a palace compared to it ! What do you call that old chap up there in the white, woolly wig, and all those ridiculous ruffles, mister ? " *' That is the portrait of the late Judge Hazelwood, Miss," answered the old butler, with slow dignity. ill i 11 11 IP 3 TWO OLD FRIENDS. 145 '5 )f I a ip lus k " And that other sciirccrow beside him, with the waisc of her dress under her arms, and sleeves like two bolsters — who is she ? Mrs. Judge llazelwood, 1 suppose ?" '' It is, miss." " Did you eve; see such looking shapes. Eve ? I say, thougli, are we near done sight-seeing ? 1'hey ought to have liorse-cars or sometlnng to run through this house — I'm just dragged otf my feet traveling I The Kamhle in Central Park was phiin sailing (;ompared to it ! " '* Hazel, don't be so innocent." said Eve, barely able to keep from laugliing at the shocked and scandalized face of the ancient servitor ; "it's a dear ronuuitic old place, and I'm in love with it already.*' ''Yes ; you always had outlandish tastes, I know," said Hazel, discontentedly ; ** but when we're both laid uj) with rheumatism, and fever and ague, and consumption, and lots of other harms that we'll be sure to catch in this damp, musty vault, you'll sing a dilTerent tune, I dare say. Oh, I wish I was back in New York ! even the pen. siunnat was a king o this ! Here we are in the blessed sunshine again, £>icu vierci ! " They had reached the grand entrance hall, M'here the old butler bowed and left them, shocked out of a year's growth. ** I woiuler when we are to be admitted to the throne of the Grand ]\Iogul, Hazel," laughed Eve; 'Mie is as mys- terious at Mokanna himself ! " '•' "Who was Mokanna ? I don't care about the Grand Mogul ; but 1 do wish Paul would come up to-day ! Do you suppose he will ? " " I don't know ; and with due reverence to you — don't care." ^' Oh, of course not I but if Senor ^Mendez was in question, perhaps you might. Paul says, the way you flirted with tluit gay and festive old scamp on shipboard was shame- ful ! " Eve's eyes began to flash. '• Hazel ! did Paul Schaffer dare to say that ?" '* Dare ! Oh, you have not done acting the role of La Princesse yet, 1 see! Tell your old beau. Eve, to dye his hair before he proposes ; it's getting frosty, rather ! There, you needn't fire up now ; Fm not going to fight this morning, because you're the only living Christian I've 146 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I- got to talk to, and bad company is better than none ! I wish Monsieur D'Arville would come back, if the Grand Mogul hasn't had him beheaded." " Qiiand un parh dii — be careful what you say, madem- oiselle I "said D' Arville himself, sauntering in. " I come from the Grand Mogul with his Serenity's orders for you two young ladies to appear at once before him ! I am to lead you to the presence-chatuber ; so coine." His 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. Summon all your moral courage, and I will wait at the door. If you faint, give me notice beforehand, and I will .iy 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 a glance. Monsieur D'ArviHe retreated, the young ladies advanced, the valet closed the door and vanished, and they were in the presence of the Grand Mogul I Stretclied at full length on a lounge, and half buried in its downy pillows, lay an immensely-stout gentleman, smoking a meerschaum pipe, lie wore a dressing-gown, and both his feet were swathed in rolls of flannel — Mr. Ilazelwood was suffering from the gout. A dumb-waiter, with tlie remnants of an epicurean breakfast littered over it, stood near him ; and lying there, he looked the very picture of seuouous, selfish, indolent comfort. His room wms the most elegant in the house ; its pule-green walls lined with exquisite pictures. Nothing remained of the Arthur Ilazelwood of former days, but his selfishness, his itido- lence, and a rcmiuint of his artist tastes. He turned his eyes listlessly toward them, and held out one languid hand. "Ah ! you've come, liave you ? How d'ye do ? Happy to see you both I Find seats and sit down." Tlie young ladies did so. Eve's sense of the ludicrous was too strong to permit her to look at Hazel, lest she should laugh outright at this enthusiastic greeting, but she felt lb TWO OLD FRIENDS. 147 that Hazel's face was a picture to see, as she stared blankly at the pulpy figure prostrate before her. "All I" said Mr. Ifazelwood, drawling out his words, and cmoking away, " which of you is little Hazel ? You, I presume ? *' *' No, sir," said Eve, to whom this was adresscd, ** this is Hazel — I am Eve." ^' Ah I and a very pretty Eve you are — very pretty, in- deed ! The otiier was stolen, wasn't she ? '' " Do you mean my twin-sister, sir ? "' said Eve. to whom some part of her own story was familiar. '* Yes ; 1 be- lieve she was stolen when an infant, and never found since." ''Ah very droll — very. And you are little Hazel, eh ? Not very large yet, either — and plump as a partridge." *' There's a pair of us, sir!" resorted Hazel, pertly, nettled at this last insinuation, which was touching her feelings on a very tender point. '^ Eh ? " inquired ]\Ir. Ifazelwood, feebly staring; " well, I hope you'll enjoy yourselves here, and all that sort of thing. Una will be back by and by, and tiien it will be pleasanter for you. Jerome 1 " The dapper valet appeared as suddenly as if he had risen from the earth, and stood making genuilections be- fore the lord of Hazelwood Hall. " Show these young ladies out and fetch me some brandy and water, hot. Ah ! good morning ! " Monsieur Jerome, smiling blandly, turned them both out of doors, and the interview was at an end. D'Arville, looking out of a window at the lower end of the hall, ad- vanced to meet them. " Vfell,'^ he in([uired, ^' and how do you like the Graiul Mogul, mesdemoiselles ?" "Don't ask me — don't!" cried Hazel, her lips com- pressed, her eyes Hashing. ^' I feel as though I should burst ! Is it Bluebeard ? Is it Henry the Eighth ? Wiiat sort of monster is it shut up there ? Oh ! if I was only back in New York, I wish them joy of their eyesigiit that would catch me here again ! " Eve went off into an irrepressible tit of laughtor at the recollections of the scene, and D'Arville's dark face lighted up with a smile. ** It won't do to live in Rome and light with the Pope, i! U' 148 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ■I an old proverb says. You must keep a civil tongue in your licad, Miss Hazel. Do you know there lias been an arrival within the last ten minutes ?" '' No !— who ?— not Paul— I moan Mr. Schaffer ?" '^No; a lady. She drove up in a fly, and passed tlirough here in a traveling dress. It is Miss Forest, I presume."" '" Oh, has she come, then ! " exclaimed Hazel, a little disappointed. *' What does she look like ? — another Levia- than ? " " Not at all ? A pale little woman, pretty and ladylike. I only saw her for an instant, but " JFe stopped short at a sudden motion from Eve. "A pale little woman, pretty and ladylike" had entered the Jial). while he was speaking ; her bonnet and shawl doffed already, her flaxen hair combed very smoothly away from her fair, colorless face; her light blue eyes, as quiet and cloudless as of yore, her steps as noiseless, her looks almost as young. Old time, furrowing wrinkles, and thinning locks, and planting crow's feet, had been merciful to her. The white skin was unfurrowed, the flaxen hair as thick, tlie form as light and slender as fifteen years before, and Una Forest at thirty wasa very prepossessing little person, indeed. She floated forward now, in a dress of gray silk prettily made and trimmed, a smile on her pale, thin lips, and a hand extended to eacli of the girls. '' At last I " she said, in the soft, sweet voice of old, toucliing first tlie cheek of Eve, then of Hazel, '' welcome to England and to Htizelwood Hall.'' "Thank you," I'^ve said, a little timidly, while Hazel stared at her in silence. ^' You are Miss Forest, of course." " Yes, my dear ; and you are the little baby Evangeline, I left in New York over fifteen years ago : grown out of all knowledge. And tliis is the three-year old Hazel, who used to torment me so, looking the younger of the two. And this gentleman ? " — Slie paused, looking composedly at D'Arville, who stood in the l)ackground. He ste[)ped foi'ward, on hearing liim- self invited, with an easy bow — his composure as match- less as her own. " I am Mr. Hazel wood's secretary, madam. ]\Ey name is D'Arville." ^TS TWO OLD FRIEiNlDS. 149 Miss Forest bent her fnir little head in silent greeting, and turned once more to look at Eve. "How very tall you have grown, my dear, and how much older than your age you look ! Your voyage does not seem to have afTected eitlier of you much ; were you sick?" •' Hazel was ; I had the good fortune to escape." " Ah, you may well call it good fortune ! I know what sea-sickness is ! Was the voyage pleasant ?" '' Very ! We had a number of friends on board — all the way with us, in fact — and tJie time went like magic." ''Speak for yourself," cut in Miss Hazel. "I dare say it went like magic for you and your old Spanish beau, but I could tell a different story — pent up in a stew-tub of a stateroom. There wasn't an hour froiii the time we started till we landed I didn't wish might be our last, if only for s^.ite to see the way you acted ; and I used to pray fervently the steamer might run into a rock or a mer- maid, or something, and pitch head first to Davy Jones, and so end it all ! " Miss Forest's light blue eye and smiling face were turned on the spirited speaker of this reckless avowal, oUulying her as she had been studying Eve. ''You have not changed, I see, my dear ; the Hazel of three years lives yet in the Hazel of eighleen. And now, where is Doctor Lance ? Is he with Mr. Hazelwood ?" " He has gone back," said Eve. " He ivent by the cx- ])ress last night to London, and starts in the next steamer ior New York." " A Hying visit I I should like to have seen him. Have you been through the house ? " "Oh, 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 ghostly place ! Isn't it full of fijliosts ? " Miss Forest's eyes and smile were on Hazel ag;iin. Eve looked nearly as shocked as the old butler had done, and D'Arville intensely amused. " 1 really don't know. T never saw any." '• Well, it must be full ^ . rats anyhow, and they're as bad, if not worse, 'i'hey'd no more keep such an old rat- trap as this standing in New York than — Oh, Eve ! liere is Paul and Senor Mendez ! 1 declare if they're not." ^¥ 1; •! |i! Ill' h»a i ■i . '!' 1 1' I' 150 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. Hazel sped off down-stairs in an ecstasy. Eve looked out of the window, and saw the two gentlemen in question just going up the stone steps leading to the front door. " Friends of yours ? '' Miss Forest inquired, loooking in calm surprise on Eve. ''I did not know you had any in tlie vilL'igc." " We knew them in Canada," Eve answered, coloring suddenly, and the two looking at her wondered inwardly which of tlicm the blush was for. " I suppose I must go down." '" Of course, and I must go and see about my houseliold affairs. I came here directly on arriving. Farewell — luncheon-hour is at two ; at six we dine." She bowed in her easy, gaceful way and left them. Eve, her face still hot, spoke to D'Arville without looking at him. " Are you coming down, monsieur ? They will want to see you." -' Do you think so ? " he said, meaningly. ^' Of course. Come ! " She led the way down-stairs, without waiting, and D'Arville 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 laugliing faces, but both turned eagerly to the door when Eve entered. She gave her hand frankly and cordially to Senor Mendez, but she just touched Mr. Schaffer's extended digit, as if it had been red-hot, and dropped it again. *' You see we have found our way to Ilazelwood Hall," Schaffer said. " A fine 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 anotlier old vault, I sup- pose. Oil, give me a brownstone front on Fifth avenue, aiul you have my idea of heaven on earth at once." " You shall have it," said ^Ir. Schaffer, in a voice au- dible o!)ly to her, " when you and I go back to New York together. You ought to see it. Miss Hazelwood," raising his tone. Hazel might not fancy it, but I am sure you would." " She saw Lady Landsdowne last night, and fancied her 1 I TWO OLD FRIENDS. 151 III excessively. Did you not, Miss Eve V* asked Senor Mendez. '' I told you I thought her a most beautiful woman, and," rather miscliievously, '^I think she aftected your- self, senor, even more than I, for you turned as white as that marble bust up there at siglit of her ! " " Was it at sight of her," said Senor Mendez, coolly. ** I thought I told you it was a spasm." *' Oh, yes, you told me that, of course ; but I know you watched the carriage out of sight, and inquired very par- ticularly about her from the lodge-keeper. Is the Priory shown to visitors ? " "Not Avhen the family are at home, as now," said ^Fr. Schaffer. "\ was disappointed in my liopes of going through it to-day, and 1 hope the family may make their exodus soon for my benelit. We saw 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." ** And is he as lovely to look at as she seems to be ?" inquired Hazel. '^ Xo, he is not what you girls would call handsome ; he is tall and stately, gentlemanly, and rather distinguished- looking, grave and middle-aged." '' Grave ! " said the Cuban. " I should say so I His face is that of a man whose life has been a great mistake." '' Do you judge from faces ? " asked D'Arville, speaking for the first time. " If so, I should like you to sec the mistress of this establishment, and read me her character. I have been puzzliug over it ever since I saw her." " Is she a study, then ? " *' Is she pretty? tliat's the question?" interrupted Paul Schatfer. ** A pretty woman never can be very dis- agreeable." Senor Mendez looked at the last speaker, and so queer a smile, so bitter, so cynical and so scornful came over liis face, that a new light dawned on Eve's mind. It broke on D^Arville's, too, and he spoke : *' Senor AFendez has lost faith in the sex, but it is not fair to judge all by one. Miss Forest is no common woman, and not to bo judged by common rules. She is pretty, too, but it is a strange type of prettiness — un- lamiliar to me." ' 1 \i r 152 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ■I '' i £i t'l m " Tlie more charming, then, I should think," said Paul Schaffer. " Prenez garde de tomher, Monsieur D'Ar- ville!" Monsieur D'Arville's lips curled at the insinuation, and just then there was a tap at the door. D'Arville opened it, supposing it to be a servant, and was taken rather aback to find himself confronted by the fair, still face and soft gray dress of Miss Forest herself. He stepped back, liold- ing the door open for lier to enter, but she declined. " Do not let me disturb you! Mr. llazelwood desired me to tell you to go to him directly after luncheon, and luncheon waits now." She was gone again. D'Arville closed the door and looked at the rest. "Is that the Marble Bride turned Quakeress ?" asked Mr. Schaffer. " Iler voice is like the music of the spheres, though I can't say I ever heard that melody." " I take it upon myself to say that is Miss forest," said Senor jMendez. '* And something out of the common — do you not think so ? " inquired D'Arville. " Decidedly, or slie would have invited us to luncheon," said the Creole gentleman, rising; "but as she has not, we make our exit. JNliss Eve, Miss Hazel, you should go down and see Monkswood ; it is worth the journey, I as- sure you." " \Ve will," said Eve, "and perhaps this afternoon. Eh, Hazel?" " All right," said Hazel. " I was bound to go any way ; and, what's more, 1 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 luippy and blessed to do so, und took their departure, and tlie trio sought the dining-room. Miss Forest was waiting there, before a table glittering with silver and cut-glass, aiul took her place at the liead at once. " I have grown so accustomed to being alone on these occasions," slie said, smilingly, " that I fear I have half forgotten liow to preside. Mr. Hazel wood so rarely loaves liis room, and we never see company, so I live like a female Robinson Crusoe. Let me help you to some of this pigeon- pie, Mr. D'Arville." ! i 1 >i TWO OLD FRIENDS. 153 j> se ilf es ,le 11- " You are worse off than Robinson Crusoe was," put in pert Hazel, *' for he had a man — Friday." Miss Forest only noticed this speech by a cold staro, and went on carving the pie. It was not a very comfortable 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 anpetite. *'I declare. Eve, I'm starving ! " she burst out, when it was safely ever at last, and they were alone, D'Arville having gone to Mr. Hazelwood's apartments. " I'll be skin and bone shortly, if this state of things continues. I hate that Una Forest ! There I " ^aiazel, hush I" ^' I won't hush ; and you don't like her yourself, only you're too great a hypocrite to say so. I wonder if there is such a thing as an oyster-saloon in Monkswood ? " " Oyster-saloon I — rubbish ! Do you think you are back in Xew York ? " " Oil, don't I wish I only was ! But there must be a cookshop, or a baker's establishment, or something or I'm going to Wait till I get other there, to keep people from starving, see, anyway. Will you come ?" *' Of course — anything for a quiet life, my hat." Arm in arm the two girls strolled down the avenue to tlie gates, and passed out into the highroad. Pretty green lanes branched otf from this road right and left ; and, passing one. Eve stopped suddenly, holding Hazel back. The young lady, following her cousin's glance, saw nothing more startling tlian a group of three persons standing under the shaelow of some ash-trees, talking — one, a man ; the other two, fem;iles. The man had his back toward them, but his height and form were too familiar to be mistaken. The woman lU'arost him was old, bent, a!id faced them ; but the hood of iier crimson cloak partly con- cealed her face. The tliird leanedjigainst a tree, shadowed by its long arms, so that only her floating skirts and gipsy hat were visible. "What is Paul SchalTcr up to now?" asked Eve. *^ And, Hazel, isn't that the old fortune-teller we saw at Madam Schaffer's the night of i\\Q.fctc'r' " Nonsense ! How could she get to England ? It looks w ! iW r, I' II Ml' w: m J i ill If .1 I!' I;! :i(l 154 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. like her, tlioiigli, don't it ? Tlmt's Paul for certain ; and who Clin the tliird one be ? I think it's a young girl." *' I am certain that is the same old woman. There! she sees us, and is gone ! " The old woman had caught sight of them, and she and her female companion disappeared among the trees. The man turned round aiul advanced. Paul Schaffer it cer- tainly was, and as much at his ease as ever. *' What 1 " was his greeting. '* You, too, here ! Well, this is an unexpected pleiisuro !" Hazel looked at him Avith jealous eyes. ^' Is it a pleasure, sir ? Who were those two women you had with you tliere ? " *•' Oh, you saw them, did you ? Gipsies, of course ; didn't you sec their red cloaks ? There's an encampment of them in tlie woods, and I was having my fortune told." *•' Eve says it's the old woman we saw at Madam Schaf- ier's fete — the fortune-teller, you know." ]\[r. Schalfer 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 the old beldames look alike." "Were they both old women, Paul?" Hazel asked, taking his arm, and quite reassured. ** Of course! Come, Senor ^Mendcz is waiting some- where, and we are going to take you both to see Black Monks. Oh, here he comes with the fly ; and now, my dear Hazel, you will see something that will eclipse the whole Fifth avenue, with Madison square thrown in ! Tliere is not a finer place in England, they tell me, than Black Monk's Priory." CHAPTER XVIII. eve's second proposal. *' You had better not go — it will certainly rain." ^' Kain ! Oh, nonsense, Miss Forest, there is not a cloud in the sky. It is as clear and blue as — as your eyes." Miss Forest smiled slightly, and bowed her acknowledg- ment to the speaker, Mr. Paul Schaffer. EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 155 IK g- Thoy were standing together in the open hall door, with the August sunshine glowing upon them, and Avutcliing the scene on the lawn. Two young latlies inriding-hnbits were being assisted into their saddles by two gentlemen, whose horses were held by a groom. Eve and Hazel, of course ; the former waited on by Senor Mendez, the latter by D'Arville. Mr. Schaffer's own horse stood near, too, but he seemed in no hurry, as he stood whipping his boot and talkini;- to Una Forest. Somehow t^ey liad managed to become very good friends, these two, during the last few weeks. ''Miss Ilazelwood is looking her best, this afternoon," Mr. Schaffer said, watching her under his eyebrows ha slio gathered up the reins. '• Eve is a pretty girl," Miss Forest answered, quietly, *'and pretty girls generally look their prettiest on horse- back." " So Senor Mendez seems to think, by his devotion. Is the Spanish grandee trying to cut out the Canadian school- master ? " '' And is Mr. Paul Schaffer jealous ?" *' Bah ! You know 1 am done for ! Yonder dumpy little darling is my fate, of course." '' Of course I You may as well be content with the goods the gods have furnished you, for Eve's cas(; is settled." ''You think so ?" " I know so. I am a woman, Mr. Schaffer, and she loves Monsieur D'Arville." " Are you telling me that by way of news. Miss Forest ? I have known it these two months, and what's more, she is not the only lady who worships at the same shrine." " You don't mean Hazel ? " Mr. Schaffer laughed aiul pulled his mustache. " Oh, no ! I don't mean Hazel. I flatter myself that small person has no idol but your humble servant. No, Miss Forest, I don't mean Hazel AVood — do you under- stand ? " Their eyes met. Yes ; she understood, and turned away. Mr. Schaffer 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 measles and whooping-cough, U' i Ml Iiii> 11 m h :l 4 1. 156 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. I .'iSI tlie later in life we take it the more severe it is apt to bo. Miss Forest, you and 1 understand each other, I think." " Mr. Sehaffer, you had better go and ride. They are waiting for you.'' *' Let them wait ! Miss Forest, will you be my friend, as I am willing to be yours ?" " I don't understand vou, Mr. Schaffer I" *' Oh, yes, you do ! Clarence D'Arville is a handsome fellow, I know, though I am not a won)an, and he loves Eve Hazel wood ; but for all that he will never marry her!" "You are raving ! If she cares for him, what is to prevent it ? " '' The fates and Paul Schaffer ! Of course you know my secret, as I do yours ! " " Long ago ; antl so does D'Arville." " And so does she, and my wife she will be in spite of her teeth ! " " IIow ? Are you going to carry her off to some Cana- dian castle, in the okl knight-errant style ? This is the year of grace eighteen hundred and sixty, remember ! " *' Very well ; she will marry me for all that, and I shall not carry her off. If you will promise to aid mo, Miss Forest, for your own sake, you shall know my plans. I cannot work alone, and I know you have no love for your cousin." " ]\Iy consin," !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 eve- ning you shall know all, and the play Avill begin." " Take care of the storm ! " Una cried after him, as he cantered down the avenue. But a careless laugh was his only answer as he joined Hazel and D'Arville, who rode last. Hazel was inclined to pout. ''Were you making love to Miss Forest, i)ray," she demanded, •" that you stayed so long ?" Una, by the way, was always Miss Forest to the girls; they would as soon have dreamed of calling Queen Victoria by her Christian name, had they chanced to meet her, as the stately and cold little Albino. " No, my dear I She was merely warning me about the ath or. EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 157 r in. e- le led led ;lie Is; ria as *^ Why, what ails tlie wcatlier ? " '* Nothing that J can see. Miss Forost, thongli, it seems, has had private information from the chu'k of the weather that it is goinij to rain." *'' And we will have a llumder-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 I " " Oh, it will blow over ! Don't predict evil ! Sorrow's soon enough when it comes." " I wonder what Senor ^lendez is saying to Eve," ex- claimed Hazel. **IIow devoted he looks, and how he bends down to catch every word ! What shines these old follows do take to girls, now and then ! " '' Senor Mendez is not old," said Mr. SehafTer, blandly, glancing sideways at D'Arville, whose brows were con- tracting. '* lie is a fine-looking man, and in the ))rime of life. When do you suppose Miss Eve will go to live in her castle in Spain, Hazel ? " ''Shortly, I should think, for it is a mutual strike." '' Indeed I has she told you so ?" '*0h, la ! no I 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 thunder, followed by a vivid flash of lightning, and great drops of rain. The whole face of the sky had blackened with astonishing rapidity, and the storm was upon them in its fury. AVorst of all they had been riding fast, and had left the village behind them, and were out now on a lonely country road, with 710 house in sight. Hazel gave a little screech of dismay. '' Good gracious, Paul I whatever will we do ? It's go- ing to pour down straight, and I've got my new hat on ! " But one step from the sublime to the ridiculous ; but it was only human nature — a girl's first idea in a tempest is about her hat. Before Paul could offer consolation, there was aiiother deafening thunder-clap, another sheet of flame, a rush of rain, another wild shriek from Hazel, and a crv from D'Arville. ! i. I ■( 158 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. The horses of the pair before them had taken fright, at least the gentleman's had, and was flying off lik.-* mad ; and tlie lady's, startled by the proceeding, was dashing off at full speed after it. It was quite evident Eve hjul lost all management of her steed, only a half-tamed thing at best. ''She will be thrown ! she will bo killed !" shouted Paul Schatfer, excitedly, " and ]\Iendez cannot help her. Great heavens ! she is down ! " It was true ; the frightened animal had thrown her, and was away like the wind. D'Arville, his face perfectly white with horror, dashed the spurs into his horse, and in five seconds after had vaulted olf and lifted the prostrate form in his arms, with a passionate cry : " Eve, my darling ! My darling, are you killed ? " No ; or if she was, his words had magic j^ower to charm her back to life, for the dark eyes slowly 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 God, 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 other two were riding up. " Eve, 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 he was a hajipy 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 HazeFs shrill cry, forgetting all about her \\q\v hat. "Set me up, please, and I will see," Eve said, faintly, smiling up in D'Arville's face. " My head struck some- thing ; but I think, on the whole, I was more frightened than hurt.'' She stood up as she spoke, very pale, and with the blood flowing from the cut in the forehead, but with no broken 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 iu this dowupour." irill me- Ined I the no lie; lend EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL. 159 '' Eve ! " Paul ScliafTer's keen to the other, iiiul read the whole story. glance flashed from one It was tlie first time Claude D'xVrville hud ever called her other than Miss Hazelwood. ''Tliero is a liouse 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 hesitated, '^you will be exposed to all this rain." " It is of no consequence about me, I won't melt. Here, \\]) witli you." Eve mounted his horse, and bent down to him as she gathered up the reins : '* You will hurry after us," she said, anxiously, and his answer was the bright smile that so vividly lit up his dark, handsome face. " Yes, I will hurry. Off with you now." They dashed off, leaving him to follow on foot, and in five minutes were at the house. It was a sort of wayside inn, aiul held otlior storm bourd wayfarers it seemed ; for a gentleman stood in the op'.n doorway, watching the storm. He drew back as the young hidies, 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, gontlemaidy and rather distinguished-looking " — and made up her mind that this was Lord Landsdowno. The parlor was tenanted, too. In a leathern easy-cluiir in the chimney- corner a lady sat — a lady richly dressed in silk and velvet, with diamonds flasliing on lier white hands, whose haughty and handsome face Eve had seen before. It was Lady Landsdowne. Eve remembered the proud, cold face, framed 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 blue velvet mantle falling off her sloping shoulders, the dainty bon- net, a snow-fl.ake, sprinkled with azure, still on her head. She had been looking into the fire, her brow contracted in an impatient frown when they entered, and the first glance had been careless and supercilious enough. But that glance changed, fixed, grew wild and amazed, and the r rii; 1 60 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. hriglit blue eye dilated 011 Eve as if slie had been a ghost. There had been a stifled cry, too, and a half bound from her chair, but she sunk 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 her. ** Madame, you are ill — you are " The sound of his voice was magical. She started to her feet at once. '* Yes," she said shar])ly ; " you have s<^art od me. I cannot l)ear the sight of blood ! What is the matter with that voung ladv ? " '^ She has had a fall from her horse and has cut her forehead. 1 regret that our entrance siiould have so disturbed you." The lady's only reply to Mr. Schp.lfer's civil speech was to gather up her uumtle and sweep past him to the door, with a stormy rustling of silk. There the gentleman in waiting met her Avith an inquiring face. '•^llas the carriage not come yet, my lord?" sho demanded, in the same sharp tone. *• Oil, isn't she a Satan ! " Hazel whispered to Eve. ** Xot 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. Who are those persons who have just entered ?" '* Civil, that — uj^on my word ! "exclaimed Hazel, whis- tling, 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 cho(nse to wait any longer," the lady, almost passioiuitcly, cried. " 1 shall go if I have to walk, sooner than sit among such a crowd. Go and see if '.he peo^sie who keep this place have no sort of conveyance at all that will take us home ?" " Here is the carriage, at hist ! '' exclaimed the gentle- man, in a topc of intense relief. And as bespoke, a hand- some carriage, drawn by handsome horses, and with the , %' EVE'S SECOND PROPOSAL- i6i 'his- iiost pple Ithat itle- laiid- the. arms of the Landsdowne family upon the panel, drew up before the door. Right after it came cantering a rider at a furious pace. It was Senor Mendez, in a state of intense excitement and anxiety about Eve. lie had seen the horses at tlie door, and sprung from his saddle at once, and strode past Lord and Lady Landsdowne into tlie parlor. " Eve — ]\[iss 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 you. 1 knew you were liere 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 was a wild shriek from the lady, a sudden reel forward, and a something fell to the floor like a log. Tiie 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 Senor Mendez, coolly. ** Can ^ve be of any assistance to your lordship ? " *^ Kone, thank you. John, open the door." John, the coachman, obeyed, and Lord Landsdowne carried my lady in his arms, got her in with John's help, followed, and gave the order to drive home. Our party stood in ihi! 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 s-.-ream 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, look- ing at her with an inexplicable smile. But Eve did not answer. She was watching a figure coming through the slanting rain, with a look at once tender and anxious in her eyes. " Here comes Monsieur U'Arville," cried out Hazel, "lookiiijr like a drowned rat ! Look at Eve's face. One would think she was ready to cry from sympathy." l62 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ii\ '^ Do you see ? " Senor Mondez said, looking significantly at Pan! ScliafTer, and that 3'onng gentleman smiled super- ciliously. " I see Miss Eve wears her !ieart on her sleeve, for daws to peck at, and that it U D'Arville's turn to-day — mine may come to-morrow ! " i CHAPTER XIX. A MOUXLIGHT INTERVIEW. Loxn lances of moonlight streaming throngli tlie vast ■window, mingled witli tlie light of two wax candles, and fell on the pale face of Eve Hazel wood, a« she sat in an easy-chair, having her wounded foroliead houjid with long strips of court-plaster. On two pale faces, for Una Forest was tlie surgeon, and her blue eyes were full of tender solicitude, as they rested on the colorless face of her patient. "llow pale you look, my dear !" her soft voice was pity- ingly saying. " 1 am sure your poor bruised forehead must bo verv nainfiil.'' Eve lauglied good-naturedly. '' Oh, no. It is not very painful ; it only feels a little stiff and sore. Don't I look shocking with .-ill this plaster ? Why could not I have bruised my arm or my liead instead of my fiice, I wonder ?" '^ Aly love, you liave reason to be thankful it wa*? not your neck you broke I What would Mon>ieiir I^'Arville liave done tlien '^" Eve blushed, as only sixteen yejwis ever does, at the allusion. What a happy ride it liad lieen hw ker, in spite of her cut face ! *' And that reminds me," Miss Eorett phi'^i^tlf went on, noting the telltale blush, '^ that '• "i \\ii^\ V*tter keep your room this eveninsi, if vou don't to disenchant him. Of course, our Eve must be pretty a^ all times, but T can assure her she is a great deal prettiiM without strips of court-plaster." Eve glanced at herself in the mirror, and fully concurred in the opinion. A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 163 le n. ill 3d '• It's too bad, but I suppose there is no liolp for it ! My head feels a litlle dizzy and confused, too ; and I think, on the whole, the best tiling I can do is, to go to bed."^ ^^ Exactly, my dear ! You will feel all right to-niorruw morning, and your roses will have returned in full bloom. Now I sliall 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 tittle- tattle, and must keep her own room.'' " llow kind she is, after all ! '' thought Eve, as the little Albino tripped away, ^'and how Hazel audi have mis- judged her I I feel as if I could go down into tlie valley of humiliation and beg her ])ardou on my knees for ra.^.li judgment. Oh, what a night it is ! and how hai)py 1 am ! I wonder what lie is doing down-stairs I 1 wontler if lie will miss me this evening I" Alone as she was, she felt lier face glowing, and covered it with her hands, witli a little laugh at her own silliness. A soft rustling of silk made her look up. ]\[iss Forest was there again, carrying a tray herself, laden with tea and toast, and marmalade. '*Now, my dear, take something before you retire, it will make you feel all the better to-morrow. '^ "How good you are, ]\riss Forest!'' Eve cried out in the fulness of her heart, " to take all this trouble for me ! " Oh, Tna Forest ! little white hypocrite I had you ever in all your life been guilty of a blush, it should have been then I liut the pale blue eyes only shifted away uiulcr the grateful glance of the luminous black ones, and the little fiiir hands 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 1 want nothing but the tea. And now I think I will lie down, and sleep away tliis dizzy head.'^ " And I will take away these candles, lest they should tempt you to sit up and read ; ami 1 will lock your door to keep that little tomboy. Hazel, from breaking in," said Miss Forest, laughing ami nodding. "And now, my love, good night and pleasant dreams to you I " She kissed her as she spoke — the little fenude Judiis — and left the room, putting the key in lier pocket. !Sho m i RE ' ' M - ' B' 4j|i R' MX B| i » M' 1 H| K 1; 1 ill' 1 i ^. 1 / i'ffi' J1: Ijiii In w i 164 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. glanced back at it from the licatl of the stairs with a cold, glittering, evil smile. " They may be pleasant to-night, pretty Eve," she said, softly, "but they will liardly be so sweet to-morrow night. You shall never be D'Arville's brid ~ until my brain loses its power to plot, and my right hand its cunning to work." She clenched the little digit fiercely as she spoke, and went down-stairs to the parlor. Hazel and D'Arville were tliere : 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, look- ing up at him from every page. Hazel stopped clattering the " Wedding March," whirled round on her stool and faced Una. "Where's Eve?" *' In her room." •'Ain't she coming down ? " *'Not to-night, she says. She has court-plaster on her forehead, and feels light-headed after her fall, so has gone to bed. I locked you out for the night." *' Locked me out!" shrilly cried Hazel. *MVliat is that for ? " *' She thinks she 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 ghosts and rats and other vermin. Eve's nothing but a nasty selfish thing I '' *' My dear, if you are really afraid," said Miss Forest, blandly, " you can share my chamber for this one night." '' Oh," said Hazel, wilting down suddenly at the pro- posed cure, which was worse than the disease, *' I guess I shan'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 sud- denly, uttered a sharp exclamation of alarm. D'Arville lifted an inquiring face from iiis book. '' I have lost my purse, and it contained money to a large amount ! I had it when I was out in the grounds this afternoon. I must have dropped it there." D'Arville rose up. \ w l- A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 165 **The night is clear as day ; permit me to go ^u'. 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 " Oil, in several places ; but I think I may have dropj)ed it near the old well, at the ash-trees. You know the place ? I remember pulling my handkerchief out tliero to throw over my head, and may havejjulled the purse out with it." " What kind of purse was it ? " ** A portmonnaie of gold and ebony. It was a gift from a dear friend ; and, imlependent 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. xVll traces of the thunder-storm had disappeared, and the full moon rode in a cloudless sky, studded with countless stars. As D'Arville had said, it was clear as day, and the old house looked quaint and picturesque in the silvery rays. '' What a lovely ni.i;'lit," Una exclaimed. '* Who says it is all fog in England ! Your blue Caiuidian skies were never brighter than that. Monsieur D'Arville I" " The night is glorious, and old England a very pleasant place. Miss Forest, llazelwood looks charming by moon- light." '* And Evc^s gone to bed I " sentontiously put in Hazel, following his glance. '' Her room is all in the dark. That's a bran-new idcji of I'crs ; for of late she has taken to sit at the window and star-gaze. 1 believe the girl's in love ! " "And who is the happy man, pcfitc?''' smilingly in- quired Una. ''Oh, a friend of ours; either Senor ^fendez, Mr. Schaffer, or Monsieur D'Arvill' , here. And," said Hazel, with an innocent face, " I realiy don't kiu.)W whicli." The dark Canadian face of D'Avville lit up with its rare smile. " Mademoiselle, I thought Mr. SchaiTer was your prop- erty ? " ** Well, that's the very reason why Eve might want him 1 66 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ; ii ■■: ?j too. One girl always does want w^hat another possesses, and tries to cut lior out. I know I should myself ! " " A very amiable trait in young ladies' characters. But, here we are at the ash- trees, and now for Miss Forest's j^urse." Jiut though they wandered up and down, and here and there, and in and out among the asli-trees, no glittering speck of gold and ebony tlaslied back the moonlight from the grass. '" We had better go over to the old well," said Una, anxiously ; "■ it is just possible I may have dropped it there, and it is quite certain it is not here." The *^ old well" was some half-dozen yards of — a lone- some spot, shaded by gloomy ash-trees, where few ever went. The three turned their steps in that direction — steps that awoke no echo on the velvet sward — when Hazel suddenly stopped and raised a warning finger. '' Hush ! " she whispered ; ''listen to tliat ! '^ It is voices," said D'Arville, lowering his own. " Some one is at the old well before us, and may have found your purse." " 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 lieli^ it. And " She stopped short, and laid her hand over Hazel's mouth, to stifle the cry that was breaking from 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 identity. The tall young man was Paul SchafTer ; th.^ girl, wrapped in a large shawl familiar to all three, witli strips of white plaster on her forehead, was Eve Hazelwood. Yes, Eve Hazclwood. There was no mistaking that beautiful face, that shower of shining hair, those lustrous black eyes, uplifted 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 Schaffer's laughing voice they heard first. " And so the poor little Canadian schoolmaster lias A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 167 las actually come to it at last, aiid yon have won your bet. What a wickcnl little thing yon are, live ! " ''And I'm going to write to Kate, to-morrow,'^ said the voice of Eve — tliat sweet and silvery voice. " It was the night of tlie/V/c — you renieniher, Paul — that she and I made that lueniorable bet that I would not have the Uinty ]»rofessor at my feot before the end of three months. Kate thought liim like Achilles, 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 ? ile was so tiresome and so long coming to the point, that some ruse was necessary, and that was only one I could think of. It answered the purpose admirably. Oh, you should have heard him I" " You pretty little sinner ! And what do you suppose I am going to say to such goings-on, Mistress Eve ?" "Nothing at all, of course! You know I care for no one in the world but you, Paul. And I have not half done yet, for I mean to number Senor IMendez among my list of killed and wounded before I am satisfied.'' '' Now, Eve !" '* Now, Paul!" — with pretty willfulncj-'s — *'I must, I tell you ! ]\ly reputation as a beauty is at stake, and I feel in duty bound to humble the old gramlee ! Oh, what a splendid night it is ! And they tliink I am sle(>piiig the sleep of the just up in my room ! ^ly poor brnis(vl fore- head" — laughing gayly — '' was a fine excuse to steal out and meet you." *'Eve, what did you say to D'Arville ? "' *' Nothing at all. Do you think I am so poor a diplomat? But actions and looks, you know, sometimes speak louder than words. Oh, he has his answer, and is a happy man ! " *' Poor fellow ! Eve, you ought to have a little mercy ! " '' Bah ! you lecture, ijulccd ! 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, dear Eve, you mistake. She makes love to me ! As to not noticing you, is it not some of your pro- voking diplomacy ? I give you fair warning, I won't stand it much longer ! " ;i- 1 68 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. .in " '1 ::i 'it! I -I' 1/!' The girl clasped his arm with both hands, and looked lip in his face, with lauglniig, loving eyes. **' You dear, cross, good-natured Paul ! It won^t be necessary for vou to stand it niucli loiiijer. Once I have conquercnl Monsieur Mustache W'hiskerando, as Hazel calls liini, ril be good and ()])CMliont, and let you have your own ■way in every tiling. You know well enough I care forno- body but vou. Do I not run risk enough in meeting you like this 'i'' There w;is a caress, and an answer breathed so low that tliey could not catch it ; and then the lovers turned into a side-path, and di>;app«->ared. lint both faces, as they turned, were for a second full toward tlieni, with the bright moonlight shining full on them; and every vestige of doubt, if such a thing could still linger, vanished. ]>eautifu], treacherous, deceitful, it was indeed the face of Eve Ilazelwood — all her black curls fluttering in the night-wind ; and that otlier, bending over her, Avas Paul Schalfer, Hazel's false lover. Tlien they were gone, and only the cold, mocking moonlight remained where they had stood. A spell seemed to have bound the three lookers-on to the spot. Their evanishment broke it. There was a sound, something between a cry and a hysterical sob, from poor Hazel, as she grasped D'Arvillc's arm. " Oh, Monsieur D'Arville, it is Paul and Eve I " He had been standing as motionless as if changed to stone, his eyes neve?; moving from the pair before him while they had remained. Xow he turned to the poor little s^^eaker, his face like white marble, but with pity in his deep, dark eyes for her. "Yes, poor child I I liave long known that this must come tQ you some day ; but I never tliought of its coming in this mjinner. We have both been deceived. Hazel — I far more than you," ** Can I believe my eyes ! I feel as if I were dreaming ! I always tliought she disliked Mr. Schalfer," said Una Forest, witli a bewildered look. A sinile, 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. Schalfer was Id! A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. 169 i?f re as one of her admirers ; but I was so well deceived by the fair diplomat tliat 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 wot grass, sobbing hysterically, sobbiu.;- 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 be drawn away, weeping still, but *' passive to all clianges." "You had better let her stay with you to-night, ]\Iisa Forest," he said, *'and try and comfort her ! Her dream has been broken rudely and bitterly enough." "' I shall do my best," Una said ; " but, good lioavens ! who could have imagined this was Eve Hazel wood ? 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 outside falsehood hath — I have 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, lie stopped at his door and held out his hand to Una. "Goodnight, ]\[iss Forest," he said; "let me thank you now for all the kindness you have shown me since I have been in this house. Be good to this poor little girl, and try and comfort her, if you can." He was gone, and his door was shut. Una stood look- ing at it, with a puzzled face. " What does he mean — thanking me now, and with that look ? He cannot mean to go ! Oli, pshaw ! of course not ! come along, ILizel I " She drew Hazel along to her room — poor Hazel, who did nothing but cry, and began early })reparing for bed. " Don't be a baby," was her consolatory address ; " wipe your eyes and go to l)ed I l.ct ^Ir. 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 ! " < I 'll '111 u ■ m. iiii; 170 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. Tliere was another in a room near, m'Iio, though he shed no tears, uttered no cry, was perhaps wisliing the same in tlie hitterness of his lieart. JIo was on his knees, not in prayer, ahas ! but packing his trunk, hustling everything in in a heap, as men do. It did not take long — the trunk was packed, looked, 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 circumstances roTider it unavoidable. I desire no remuneration for the short time I have served you. Miss Forest may perhaps explain matters more fully. *' Yours respectfully, '* Claude D'Arville." The note was addressed to Mr. Hazelwood. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he began another. " My Dkar Miss Forest : — After the scene we wit- nessed to-night, it is impossible for me to remain longer at Hazelwood. I leave by the first train this morning for London — from there I will send an address to which my luggage can be forwarded. Thanking you oi ce more for your past kindness, and begging you to be good to poor Hazel, I remain your sincere friend, ^' C. D'Arville." The gray dawn was creeping in, pale and cold, as he sealed this last, and arose. He put on an overcoat, for the air was chill, took his traveling-bag in his hand, and went down tlie grand staircase, and out of the great hall- door of the Hazelwood 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 far from her as last as steam could carry him, to the busy world of London. I; A STORMY DAY t;i CHAPTER XX. A STORMY DAY. Rain" lashing the windows, rain drenching the grass, rain dripping from tlic trees, rain blurring 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 morn- ing. A change had eome over the night, ami the (.-loud- less sky and brilliant moou-light had boon followed by a drear and dismal day. A gloomy jirospc't Eve's dark eyes looked on, the deserted avenue, the sphishy eonntr) road beyond, the storm-beaten trees, writhing and tossing their long arms aloft, and the weird blast shrieking through them with a wild, half-human sort of cry. ]3ut the heart makes its own sunshine, and Eve was singing, half-uncon- scious, Avithasmilo on her face like a happy child, singing a snatch of the sweet ballad somebody — her somebody — had sung months ago, at ]\radam Schafter's /V/e ; " Ellen Adair, slie lovotl me well, Against her father and mother's will. To-day 1 sat for an hour and \vei)t By JEllen's grave on the windy hill. Shy she was, and I thought her proud — Thought her cold and fled o'er the sea ; Filled was I with folly and spite, When Ellen Adair was dyinp; for me. Cruel, cruel, were the words I said, Cruel came they back to me." She stopped short, and dropped the curtain over the window, with a delicious little shiver. *' What a song for me t<> sing this moruitig I Oh, how happy I am, and liow good every one is to me I AViiat a thankful heart I ought to have to the Author of all good gifts ! " There was a picture over her bed — '^ Christ l^lessing Little Children. ' Eve's f;ice grew grave and reverent, as she lifted her eyes to that divine countenance, so sublime in its calm majesty ; and kneeling down, she bowed her i ■! E- m I 172 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. head in licr hniids to -ay licr morning-prayers. So long slie knelt, tljat ten struck from the loud-voiced clock in tlio hall without, and a tap at the door only aroused her at last. She rose and opened it, and saw one of the housemaids standing there. "Oh, is it you, Mary?'' Eve said. '^ I suppose you have come to tell me breakfast is ready ?" '' Yes, miss, and Miss Forest is waiting. Is your face better this morning, miss ? " *' Much better, thank you. Tell miss Forest I will be 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 blush, 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, waiting. One look at her face sent 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 lier Quakerish gray dress had something chilling and re- pellent in its sound. Where was the kind, motherly, warm-hearted Una Forest of last night ? Had she been a changeling of the radiant moonlight, that had gone for- ever and vanished with it ? " *' I have kept you waiting, I am afraid," Eve faltered, her air-castles shivering on their frail foundations. ** Yes," Miss Forest coldly said ; ** you have. Be good enough to take your place." She 2")oured out the coffee and passed the toast in a man- ner that effectually took avay Eve's appetite ; but indig- nation was coming to her aid now and giving her courage. Miss Forest, watching her as a cat does some unfortunate mouse it is going to devour, presently saw a hot red spot coming into either cheek, and a bright, angry light in either eye. What had she done to be treated like this ? She liad committed no crime, that she need be afraid. She would speak, and show Miss Forest she was no slave of her humors and whims. iiiiiii A STORMY DAY. 173 ig- ate pot in 9 ''Where is cousin llazol ?" slie doTnanded, looking np. Una Forest's palo-blue orbs met the bright ])hiok ones "vvith a ghince so cold, so stern, so severe, and so prolonged, that tlie outraged crimson rose in a fiery tide to Kve's brow. "You want to know where Mi^^s 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 precipitately. "• Hazel sick ! When — how — what is — Miss Forest, I must go to her at once ! " Miss Forest pushed aside her plate and cup and rose, too." " I beg your pardon. You will do nothing of the kind." ''Miss Forest!" " Miss Hazelwood — if thatbevour name — 1 am mistress here, I think, and accustomed to be obeyed. You do not set foot in my room, either to-day or any other day, while you see fit to remain at Hazelwood Hall I " Eve stood looking at her, utterly confounded. Had Miss Forest suddenly gone mad ? The cold, sweet voice of th;it pale little lady broke the brief silence. " You thought no one was watching you last night, doubtless, when you held that shameful interview. You thought the lie vou actevly fading from her face. " Go to your room, now," Miss Forest's i)itiless voice continued, as she moved to the door ; '' to one more in- jured than I, I leave the task of upbraiding you. Go to your room, nnhappy girl, and remain there until sent for." She was gone, but Eve never moved. She stood liter- ally rooted to the spot, so completely lost in wonder, so utterly dumfounded by this amazing and vague charge r ■ {■' 174 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ■i; '}■< • . ■ I ii 1 1 m Mr '! ;:' Hi! i p Ik 1i' of crime, that slic scarcely knew whetlier slie were asloej) or awake. Slie passed lier hand over her face in a be- wildered way. "What does she mean? Wliat did she say I liad done ? " slie asked lierself, confusedly. " I don't under- stand at all ! (io to my room and stay there I What will I do that for ? I will not do it. Xo, I will not I If Miss Forest has gone mad, I will lind out wliat she means." Indignation had come to the rescue again. p]ve's spirit, raturally bright. Hashed u]) in her pale face, kindling a red glow there, and blazing like black flame in the flash- ing eyes. Impetuously, she started after Miss l-'orest, but ]\Ii.ss Forest was not to be fomul. bhe had given a brief order about dinner and had gone away, and the servants knew nothing of her. Witli a stc}) that rung and re- bounded, Fve n)arched 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 ruid listened, the angry blood coursing tumultuously 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 rapidly and vehemently up and down the long hall, watciiin.g the door that never o})ened. Xo, indeed ; why should it when there was another door within that chamber communica- ting with the lower hall, of which she knew nothing. So Fve trod up and down like a liandsome young Pythoness going into training for expeditious as an Amazon sentry, while Miss Hazel was serenely attending to her d.ties down- stairs. So while hour after hour of the (lark, rainy day wore 0T1, Eve paced her lonely beat undisturbed — for not even the housenuiid cnnie near her — until she grew so completely exhausted that she could walk no longer. Fven then she would not leave, so sure was she that there was some one within ; but seated hcrseH' within the wide window-ledge at the end of the liail, and gazed out at the bleared aiid desolate evening, with all its own gh^o)n on her face. Oh, where was D'Arville ? Where was Hazel ? Had they all deserted her together ? Had they all gone crazed with Uiia Forest ? 'I'M A STORMY DAY. 175 .(,. a the len ica- So ness tvv, \vn- vvore even tely slio Olio iind Oh, ,' all e( wi th Six strnok f'-om tlic liail-olock. A voice at Eve's ear an instant after madolior bound ; but it was only the serv- ant who had corr.e to her in the morning, and whom she had not lieard eros.-j tlie hall. " ]\riss Eve, Miss Forest wants to know if you will come down to dinner ? " >9 i( Miss Forest : is slie in lier ow?! room (Jh, dear, no, miss ; she's l>ccn down-stairs all dav yy Ev<' pressed lier haiid to \wr ilirobbin^j^ forehead. ^' And is it J who am going mud ? " slie thought. " You look poorly, miss ; ymw fn/io is as white as a sheet," the girl said, pityingly, 15 not tho darkness ; lier lioad vas bare, her long iiair flutter- ing in the niglit-wind, but slie felt no eokl, Jieeded not the soaking rain. Stumbling, slipping, falling, rising, and flying on again, that frantic flgure rushed through the niixht and the storm, in and on, and over, a very nnmiac, until at last exhausted nature gave way, and she sunk dovni, prone on her face, on the soaking grass. She never tliought where she was ; in that first delirium she did not (;are. And so there, with the dismal night falling, with the rain drenching her through, Eve llazelwood, who had risen that morning hai)])y, loving, and beloved, lay at night a homeless, friendless outcast. Oh, truly has it been said, " We knew not w\at a day may bring forth." ^ ' $ !ih lilt' CHAPTER XXI. 15LACK MOXKS. Site did not faint ; lying there prostrate, with the rain Ideating upon her, and the wind fluttering her hair and garments — she was yet conscious. 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. Then slowly, as the flrst nuid excitement and delirium died out, all the liorror of her situation dawned upon her. It was night — a tempest was raging, she was friendless and homeless — without where to lay her head. Must she stay in this dreadful place ail night ? — must she lie here and die ? Oh, if death would only come at once ! Eve wished for it then, as we all wish for it in our llrst moments of sinful des[)air. What is there left to live for now ? AH 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 un- loved lifer Ah! Eve could not remember then, in her first bitterness of despair, that " Thon» is n love that never fails WIkmj earthly lovps tlocnv." Heaven and earth, that dismal ni^^liL, looked black alike. A clock struck nine — the clock of tho village church. a BLACK MONKS. 170 of )C'St ei'G all uld ish is up her nu- ll er She Avas in Monkswood, then, and near shelter, if she chose to ask for it. She rnised herself on her elbow, pu=;lied back the dripping masses of hair from her face, jind looked round. liights twinkled in the distance — stars of hope — from the cottage windows. Kve was well known in Monkswood. She h;id been good to more than one poor sufferer there ; her bright face Iiad made sunshine in many a poor homo ; her 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 territjle night ; she would go to some of these humble homes until to-morrow should come, and then she Vv'ould lly — she knew not whither, cared not, either, so that it was far from llazelwood. Faint, dizzy, staggering, the girl rose uj) and toiled slowly on through tlic darkness and the rain. N(jw that the feverish excitement had 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 the first cottage she canu' to, she dro})ped down on the door-step, feeling that, if her life depended on it, she could not go one more step. It was a poor place, this cottage, with thin doors and curtaiidess windows. Eve could hear voices within, and one — the voice of a man — had a !^,trangely-familiar sound. She tried to think who it was, but hvv head felt all wrong and confused — memory would not cmuic to her aid. She rose up again, resolved to see, before she asked for shelter ; it migiit be one of those cruel enemies siie had h'ft, foraU she could tell. The little window w;is uncurtained, the room bright with lire aiul candle-light — as humble within as without, too; but Kve saw nothing of that — her eyes were fixed on its three occupants. Surelv, that old v.-onuui on the stool in front uf the lii'o had a strang(dy-fami!iar face. Where had she seen her before ? And tluit man — ■ that tall gentleman wearing that well-known cloak, must be Senor ^lendez, lier Cuban friend. And that third face — [di ! what sight of horror was tliat : her own face looking straight l)ack at her — her own hicv. as she saw it evry day in tlie glass. I'liere was ti shrill shriek of alfright, a lieavy fall, and Eve llazelwood had fainted for the first time in her life ! '''m 1 80 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. lu m m^' :t! k III ^ in AVhat a strangely coiifased and bewildered feeling is the return of conscionsiiess after a swoon. Gentlemen, 2)er- ln4)s, not being of tlie fainting sex, know very little about it ; but tlieir sister-sufferers, being used to it, know tlio dizzy, disagreeable, distressed sense of vague bewilderment with wliicli life and recollection come back. Everything looks unusual ; the most familiar objects unfamiliar ; voices at our ear sound afar off, and the well-known home faces strange and visionary like the rest. But when the fainter come to in a stninge room, where everything is really unfamiliar — furniture, faces, voices and all — then she is, indeed, an object of pity. It was Eve's case, as she rose up and looked round her. What large room was this, with its strange, anti(|ue furni- ture, its black oil-paintings, its wood iire burning on a marble hearth, its tall wax candles flaring on an inlaid table, its huge tented bedstead looking like a house ? AVho were these three ^nll men looking at her, one of tbc«ii yitting beside her holding her wrist ? and Avho was ^ilf^ elderly lady in black dress and snow-white cap, waWh- ing her with such kind, compassionate eyes ? AVhat had iiappened, and where could she be ? She moaned out something vaguely to that effect, as she passed hor hand over her forehead piteously, trying, i)oor child, to clear her mental vision. *'x\ll right now," said the gentlennm holding lier wrist, dropping it and putting a glass to her lips ; '' 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 chihl. It was port ■wine, and helped her at once. She looked again at the man beside her, with new-born resignation in her great bright eye. "Are you, Mr. Holmes ?'* she asked. "Of course, I am, my dear IVEiss liazelwood," answered the vilhige-surgeon. "How do you feel now ? Like a giant refreshed — eh ? '' " I feel blotter, thank you," very faintly ; " though please to tell me where I am ? " "In a very nice phace, Miss Eve, 151ack Monk's Priory." " lUack lAionk's ! Why— how— ~" " 'i'liere, don't get fidgety now. Vou fainte^l, you know, and we found you as (.lead as a door-nail ; carried you off BLACK MONKS. i8i yy here, and brouL^ht you to life again. Furfiirtlicr explana- tion, 1 must refer you to tliis gentleman here. '* Tlie gentleman thus evoked stepped forward and bent over her. Eve grasped his hand witli ji glad cry — it was good to see that familiar face, wliere all was so strange and new. " Senor Mendez," she cried out, holding his kind hands. '* Oh, I am glad you are here." '' ^Fy own'little Eve ! " he said, a little huskily, '' thank Heaven, you are conscious again. You feel better do you not ? '' *' Oh, yes I but I want to know how I came here ! When did I faint, and what made me ? " Senor ^lendez turned to the third gentleman still in the backgrouml : " My lord, if you and .Nfr. Holmes will kindly leave me alone with Miss llazelwood, for a few moments, I will give her all the explanation she rerpiires. It will be bettor for her to know at once than work herself into a fever with wondering." " or eourpc." said Lord Landsdowne, coui-teously, '" for as many minutes as you please. Mrs. Roberts ? " Mrs. Koberts, who was the honsekee})er at Uhick Monks, obeyed the hint, and followed his lordship and the ])hysi- cian out of the room. Senor AFendez took the chair be- side her, a!id looked into her great dark eyes, fixed so wistfully upon him, with a smile. '^Fhere w;is something so infinitely kind and genial in his face, something so ])ro- tecting and reassuring iji his smile, that Eve's heart went out to him in a great cry : "' Oh senor I what does it all mean ? Am I going mad? Will you turn against me, too?" *' My dear child I turn against you I why should I ?" *' Oh, 1 don't know ! I have not done anything that I know of, but they all have tui-ned from nie — they all halo me now I 1 have no friend left in all the wide world, I think!" '' Not even me, Eve ? " She looked at him earnestly, longingly ; truth, honor, manliness, frieiuUiness — nuy, love, shono in thosi; deep dark eyes, in that gentle smile, i)i thai lemler handclas}). Yes, Eve had one friend left I ller face told him so, and his pleasant smile deepened. •I ( :•! I IHi< * i Si I |i: (J, i iii^' t 1 182 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. *' Tliank you, my little girl," he said, as if she had spoken. " You are not quite deserted yet I And now toll nie what they liave been doing to you at Ilazelwood — 1 think I half guess, though." *' I can't tell you what they have been doing to mo — oidy that they have all turned against me, and Miss Forest — oh," Eve cried, passionately, "how shall lever forget the dreadful things she said ?" " Humph I it was ^liss Forest then, the little sleek, shari)-ela\ved cat ! What did slie say to you, Eve ?" ''Dreadful things, senor, and ITazel told mo," with a choking sob, '' that she hated me I " ''The deuce she did I But Miss Forest, what did she say ? " " Senor, she said that I — that I — oh, I can't tell you," cried Eve, suddenly, covering her face with her hands, but not before he saw that sensitive face turn scarlet. " Yes, you can, Eve ; remember I am your only friend ! Tell me all ! She said you did something very shocking, 1 sup{)ose I She said you " " Senor, that 1 met ]\lonsieur SchafTer in the grounds by night, and by stealth, and that she, and Hazel, and Monsieur D'Arville sa\v me with him there I '" Senor ^Mcndez gave a long, low wlnstle. " Whew ! the little liar ! and what did llazol say ? " " That she hated me, and that I was a wicked, treacher- ous, deceitful creature I " " Forcible language, npon my word ! These little female angels, h(nv(;ver, have the devil's own tongue. And Monsieur D'Arville — surely, he denied it !" '* Senor," Eve said, her voice trembling pitiably, '*' ho has gone away I '' *' (rone ! where ?" "To London, and is coming back no more." And here Eve's courage all failed, and lior voice was lost in a tem- pe^^t of sobs. The Cuban planter looked at her pity- ingly. '• My poor Eve I they have been conspiring up there, I see ! \V hen did all this take place ? " '•This morning, at breakfast, senor, Mi«s Forest com- menced. 1 did not see her all day, or Hazel either ; but when I went down to dinner. Monsieur D'Arville's letter, telling of his departure, was brought her, rvd I think it I . BLACK MONKS. 183 tilings, set her wild I It was then she said all those terriblo until she nearly drove mo mud." " And yon rushed out into the storm just as you were, and ran until you could run no longer, I suppose ?^' *'Yes, senor ! And, oh, I don't know at all what it means, for I never left my room last night." ''Oh, you need not tell me that I I quite understaml, and so docs pretty ^Fiss Forest, that you never set foot in the grounds with Paul Schafler ! Was that all she said to you ? " "No, senor — she spoke of my mother, of my dead mother, whom I never know, and said things of her too frighful to repeat."' ''The little ," Senor Mendez ground out tlio rest between his mustache, "said she Avas no better than she oughr to be, J sup[)()so. Eve ? " Eve hid Jier face, liushed again. But she was pouring out her whole heart to this man, and could not help it. "She said I had no right there — no right even to the name I bore." " fndeed I Much she knows about it I Did she say anvthino: of vour father ? " " Xo, senor, she never spoke of him, but," Eve cried, struck by something in his face, " perhaps you knew him, senor I Oh, if vou tlo '' "There I tliere I don't get into a fright now I I did know your fatlier when a young man, but never mucli good of him. He was a young scamp, and the less you know about him the better." Poor Eve ! there was no ray of hope for her anywhere. Her eager face saddened and darkened airain. " Then perhaps it was all true that Miss Forest said ! " "Not a bit of it! Your motlier was a bud woman. Oh, don't start ! I knew all about her, too ; but she was your fathers's wife, as fast as a minister, and a marriage- ceremony, and a wedding-ring could make lier. In fact, tliov were a Itad lot, both of them ; and the less vou find out about them the better for your peace of mind. WJiere ignorance is bliss, and so on, you know ! " There was a table near. Eve laid her arms wearily upon it, and dropped her poor sad face thereon, not to let him see the tears that were raining down. i I i ;hi 1': f J 84 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. \li w\ 'lift 'tii m SI! W H Ifj: ^ '' ! 1:1. " I l'!^ 'Is A l^and was liiid on tlie bowed young liead, with a touch as teatlcr as a woman's. *' Dear child ! don't cry ; it will all come right after awhile, believe me. Tliere is a destiny in these things, and that destiny is in the hands of One as merciful as He is mighty. Every cloud has its silver lining, my Eve. You will see yours glittering through tiie darkness ye^ ! " Eve turjied and touched her lips to the caressing hand, but her voice was too choked to speak. 'S\nd for whom were tliose tears, Eve ? Sacred to the memory of an unworthy father and mother, or a false lover." '' lie is not false," Eve said, sobbing, '^ but he believes me guilty, and has gone forever." " Let him go, then ! One so easily deluded, with so little faith in you, i.s not Avorthy of a sigh. Cheer up, Ya'o, ! send Una Eor'.\sl and Claude IVArville an (li((ble, aud be hai)i)y in spite of them. I am going now ; it is getting late I but 1 will be back again early to-morrow morning. And so, niy baby, good night I " What a strange man he was I But Eve liked him and his hearty, fatlicrly nninner ; and once alone dro]i)ped ^vhere she sat into the heavy slumber of exhaustion, and never woke till morning. The red sunrise was slanting rosy rays through the curtains whenslie opened her black eyes in this mortal life again, a little stiff and tired from her uncomfortable posi- tion, but thoroughly refreslied, and her own bright-eyed, clear-headed self again. But at her heart the dull ])ain still ached, heavy as lead it still lay in her bosom ; no sleep could ever chase away the aching there. She drew back the curtain from the window and looked out. Every cloud had gone, tlie sun was shining in a sky as blue and cloudless as — Una Forest's eyes ! Ear below she could see the village of Monkswood ; the smoke curl- ing up from the cottage chimneys, and the farms out over the road. Right below her was a rose-garden, hot with scarlet bloom, and the birds v/ere piercing the air with their matin hymns. It was all very charming and Black Plonk's was a delight- ful place, but how came she in it ? She remejubered now she had not found that out last night ; she remembered. ^1 BLACK MONKS. 185 ith ith ed. too, witli a thrill, the face so awfully like her own, and s!io knew it was that made lier faint. She must wait now, slie knew, till Senor Mendez eame, to lind out everything ; so she bathed her face, bru.slied out her tani^led curls, said her prayers — a little more fer- vently than usual, perhaps — and then sat down hy tho window to wait and tiiink. A clock, somewhere in the house, struck louefore that wealth and rank do not constitute hap[)iness, she might have found it out that morning by looking at Lord Landsdowne's face. It vras :J ;■! 1 \ .0^.. \t>^S. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // m< i^ ^6 1.0 I.I |50 '""^= t 1^ [120 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ■• 6" ► vg A yy "m m <% .V V v^ a>: y /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^^ \ A V \ V '^\> 6^ U '%^ li. And now, if you are not too tired, will yc.u take a stroll through the grounds ? Tlio fresh air will do you good, after these damp and dreary old rooms." "llinc: to leave the gloomy house for the 'T bright sunshine and blessed breeze out of doors ; so, with only a handkerchief thrown over her head, she went out with him into the grounds. Spacious they were ; roseries, graperies, deer]iarks, long avenues of stately trees, thickly wooded shrnl)beri''S, ev(rvthing old and grand, but some- liow the same show of gloom iiud solitude reigned without as within. Kve admire(l and praised all, as she could not help doinir. but she turned away witli a feeling of relief to Senor ^lendez, gallopnig up the avenue. He jumped off Ids horse, and raised his luit. *' Allah he praised ! the dead is alive again. I see quite another girl to the ghost of last night. ■My lord, was it I BLACK MONKS. 187 Ir the with [t out lories, ickly loine- hont Id not liof to id o« jqilito 'US it coffee or the elixir of life yon gave ^liss Ilazehvood at break- fast this morning ?'^ Lord Landsdowne smiled as be turned to go. ''I shall leave ^liss Ilazehvood herself to answer that question. Aic rcroir." " Here's a bench," said Senor Mendez ; ^' and you look tired, I think. Sit down and tell me liow you feel.'' Eve lifted her melancholy, dark eyes to his face for a moment, and then dropped them again. *'0]i, I see ! y^\'y lonely, and dreary, aiul sad ! do you like Lord Landsdcwne ? " *' Very much.'' '^And my lady ?" How ?.' '* She is away.' ^'^ Oh, true ; I had forgotten. And the place ?" " It is a very line old place ; but, oh, so desolate and gloomy ! Even the sunsliine does not seem to brighten iti" ^ ^^ Sunshine I TIow can sunshine brighten a place like this — a place tliat is accursed ? " '' Senor ! '' Eve cried, startled l)y the strong word. " I repeat it — accui'sed ■ If ever a curse rested any- where on earth, it does on Black Monk's I Can you iiot see it in its master's face ? " *' You never mean to say," said Eve, still more startled, "that it is luuuited ?" " Yes, I do ; and l)y an incarnate imp of tlio Evd One himself I liut don't look so wliite about it, if you v.iu\ help it. I don't know as this spirit of darkness has any power or any will to injure you." *' I'm not going to remain here to tempt it," said Eve, tartly ; •' I am going away." " ()h, are you ? Where to, pray ? " " Anywliere — anywhere that lean earn a living. I will never go l>ii('k to Hazel wood again." '' ]\[y dear girl, don't nuiko any rash ])romisos. Where do you wish to go to — l)ack to Canada ? " **'0h, no! not thei'c— not even to Xe.v York. I want to go to London. \o one knows me tiu're." ''And what will von do when vou ijet to London ?" ''Anything I He a governess, a school-teacher, a st>am- stress, a housemaid, or anything by which 1 can earn u living." f 1 88 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. U i f * ]'.! ■1 I Her eyes Avere flasliing — her cheeks glowing — her voice ringing — but the plilegmatic gentleman beside her caught none of hor excitement. "A very laudible design, indeed, but don't be in a hurry. Suppose you wait until Lady Landsdowne comes home ? Tlieso great ladies always want a companion, or something of that sort, and " "i wouldn't stay if she did ! I don't like this place, and I don't like Lady Landsdowne. I want to go far from here." " Oh, that's the way of it, is it ? AVell, she may know some other great lady in Brlgravia who wants a companiou or a governess, and may get you tlie situation. Take my advice, and wait till she comes ; there are worse places to stop in than Jihxck Monk's." " llow did I ever come here : " asked Eve. '^ I remem- ber seeing you through tlie cottage-window tliat dreadful night, and that is all. How did 1 get liere ? " '- I heard you scream and fall, and so did another gen- tleman, driving home in his carriage. It was Lord Lands- downe, and he stopped to find out the matter ; and, when we recognized the young lady, he insisted on putting her into the carriage and driving her home. You under- stand ? " '* Yes ; and what cottage was that yon were in, and who ■were the two women ? " " AVHuit a pretty inquisitor it is ! The two women were grandmother and granddaughter, and I went in out of the ram." '' Sonor ^lendez, I want to see that girl again. I thought it was my own face looking at me over the fire. We must look exactly alike." 8enor Mcndez looked at her as if struck by a new idea. " Why, yes ; now you mention it, I do think there is a slight resemblance. Rose — I tiiink I heard the old lady call her Rose — Rose has black eyes and curls, and is about your height ; but sbe is browner in the skin, and has redder cheeks, and not so much to say ! And now I must leave you for awhile. I am going to Hazel wood." *'To Hazel wood !" " Don't faint I I won't tell them you are here ! I want to see what they are al)out over there, and won't say a word about you. (lood-by for awhile. Don't excite yourself. THE CLOUD. 189 Wait till my lady comes lionie. It will be in n few days — and who knows what tlie n])sliot will be ? Keep np a good heart, lieniember what I said before. Every clond has its silver lining." "liul the lining is on the wrong side," said poor Eve, wistfully ; "and it is very long ami dreary to wait." '* Perhaps you won't, have so long to wait — who knows ? Wait anyway until iier ladyshij) comes back, and we will see what will follow. Wait, Eve, wait and see ! "" }} M CHAPTER XXII. who were ^f tho mght I must idea. le is a lady libout idder 1 leave want word irself. THE CLOUD. There come to all of us, now and then, days that seem endless. We get up and sit down, and yawn, and saunter wearily about and the long dull hours drag their slow length along, each one a lifetime of dreariness in itself. It was one of tliose black-letter days to Eve, that first one in Black Plonk's — she wandered through the grounds, sauntered in and out of the house ; tried to read, and found it impossille ; and all the time unconsciously to her- self, she was listening for the coming of some one, for a voice, for a step, as all of us poor creatures have listened at some period of our lives. In vain, too — that is the worst of it. Eve did not know she was listening for Claude D'Arville ; but she was starting at every footstep, ner foolish heart throbbing and then sinking back with a sickening sense of disappointment, and still her pride would not let her own to herself why. At seven she and Lord Landsdowne dined in solitary state. His day deemed to have been little more agreeable than her own — he looked weary and dejected, and by tacit consent neither talked much. When the mute perfornnince was ended, Eve went out again to the grounds, tliinking that the curse of ennui certainly rested heavilv on Hlack Monk's, if none worse did. The sun that had throbbed all day like a heart of fire in the blue vault above was dying out in the west. Dying, 1 I ; i ( I !i I 190 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. too, as a monarch ought, grandly and serenely, wrapped in rainbow-glory. The girl was standing watching it, for- getting half her own troubles in its s])lendor, wlien a step coming near made lier turn round with the same flutter at her heart. It was a man, a young man, but not he for whom she looked — a very different person indeed — none other than ^[r. Paul Schaffer. He came up to her rapidly and excitedly. '' I\liss llazclwood — Eve ! have I found you at last ? AVhat is this they have been doing to you at Ifazelwood ? " Eve's answer was ji flash of her black eyes, an attempt to pass, but he stopped her. •"^.No, Miss ILizelwood, do not go. You must iiot leave me. I have been searching for you all day, and only dis- covered half an hour ago that you M'cre here." Eve was too i)routl to struggle — she drew back, and stood leaning against a tree, with her eyes fixed on the flaring sunset. " Eve," he rei)eated, still excitedly, ^^ what is this they have been doing to yoi; at llazclwood that you have fled hero ? That much, at least, I know." " Ves, I am sure you do ! " Eve said, frigidly. "I went there this morning, and heard a most remark- able story. In fact, I was met by Hazel with a tempest of tears and reproaches, and accused of having met yon the night before last in the grounds. Miss Forest confirmed the tale with the hauteur of a dowager duchess offended, and informed me she and D'Arville had been looking on. Now, ^tiss llazclwood, what does this mean ?" ^' Will you allow me to pass, Mr. Schaffer ? " was Eve's cold reply. ''Simple as you think me, I am not deceived by your acting. Whatever plot has been laid for me, you, the accomplice of Miss Forest, know best."' ** Eve, you wrong me ! I swear you do ! I love you too well ever to enter into any plot against your hapi)iness ! It's all a mystery to me — no, not all — for I know Miss Forest's motive for hating you !" Eve turned her large, truthful eyes from the sunset to the man's pale and excited face. ''For Initing me? What have I ever done that she should hate me ? " "Tlie jireatest crime one woman can commit against another. You liave been her rival ? }> THE CLOUD. 191 V Eve'a jeived )u too iincas 1 Miss rsct to I at slie tgainst " Wlial ?" ^ " Ilcr rival. Eve ! Oh, you luive been blind while all tlie rest of the world saw. Una Foro::it loves Claude D'Arville." Eve's heart gave one wild bouiul, and then seemed to stand still. A thousand trillos rushed on her mind to con- firm the storv. She knew this man to be a liar : but ho spoke the trutli now. All the blood in her body seemed to rush into her face, and she clasped her hands over its burning. '' Yes, ^riss Eve, that is Una Forest's secret. He knows nothing of it, any more than you did ; but that hidden passion is the s[)ring that has set all this shameful machin- ery at work, ller aim was to turn him against you, and she has succeeded — how. [ do not know— tliough it seems she has involved me in it.*' He sto[)[)ed, but Eve did not speak ; her face Avas still buried in her hands, and he could not see its expression. '' It proves that she hates you — it proves something else, how weak and contemptible a creature this D'Arville is I If he had any mind of his own, would he not see through a woman's poor machinations ? If he had any real love for you, would ho, at the first word, spurn you unseen and unheard and shamefully desert you without one word ? Oh, Eve ! listen to me — I love you, if he does not ! I believe in you, if he has no faith ! I res[)ect you, if h'i has scorned ! I will be true, if he has deserted you ! Eet the miserable ex-schoolmaster go, Eve, and be my wife — my beloved and honored wife ! I can give you a hap[)y liome, wealth, friends, position, everything : he can give you nothing but his fickle hcj'rt, hisem[)t.y brain and emp- tier pocket I Come back to Canad:i, Eve, where the friends are who know and love you, and forget one wlio can so easily forget you I "' lie spoke vehemently, passionately, *rying to take her hand ; but Eve drew back, and the face she lifted seemed to have turned to marble. " Will you let mo pass, ]\[onsiour Schailer ? ^' she coldly said. *'Eve I Eve ! have you no heart ? AVill you not h";u' nie p^' I I. '' I have heard you. If you are a gentleman, monsieur, you will let me pass." \' ■i i:' t t i'l Pin ii ,, 61 1; ., : 1: « 192 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. *' Eve, do you refuse ? Oli, Eve, you know I love you I " ho cried out, distractedly. *' I have refused you before — 1 refuse you a^ain ! You are plau,sil)le enough, but I know you of old, Monsieur Schaffer ; anil if you were to kneel down and swear to nio you are not concerned in this ])lot against nie, I would not believe you I I scorn vour otfer as I do vourself, and I would sooner be turned out to stand ajid die in tiie streets, than to become your wife. Now will you let me ])ass ? '' " xVnd you defy me like this ? " "I do defy you, monsieur I You thought, I know, when you had brought me to this, made me homeless and. friend- less, that I would be only too glad to come to any terms. But I am not friendless, monsieur," she said lifting her head to the radiant sky, her face aiul voice solemn alike, *'the Father of the orphan reigns there, and my trust is in llim. ]\Ir. SchalTer, let me gol" "What was there in that white face, in those solemn, earnest, dark eyes that awed the mau. The same soul — that one spark of divinity within us that awes the tameless beasts of the forest — looked forth, perhaps, and cowed him. lie drew back, his own face livid with suppressed fury. " Go," he said, '' but I will conquer you yet. No one ever defied Paul Sehaffer with impunity ; and before another sun sets, you will be turned out of Black Monk's as you have been out of Hazel wood ! Then we will see ■what kind of a tramp La Pn'ucesse will make. A few days' starvation will prove a wonderful cure for these fine airs and graces, my pretty Eve ! " Ikit Eve was gone, and Mr. Paul Schaffer Avalked away, beaten and baffled. He had counted so surely on his schemes succeeding, and here he was foiled at the first turn, lint he had another card to play yet — the game was not quite ended. That night, a letter addressed to Lady Landsdowne was posted in the little post-ottice of Monks wood. It was short, pithy., and anonyUiOUs : '' My Lady Landsdowne need be in no hurry home. His lordship is not at all lonely in her absence, as he has a younger ami even prettier lady than his charming wife for company in the dull old mansion. The young person THE SILVER LINING 193 is Miss Eve Hazel woou, of Hazel wood, who, for sonic mysterious reaso!i, lias left tlie latter for the former resi- dence. How long she is going to remain is also unknown — probably your ladyship niay find out on your return — if both birds, in the mean time, do not t.ike unto themselves wings, and fly away. A Fhiend.'' it :; i CHAPTER XXIII. I away, )u Ilia first le was le was [t was home. ihe has wife bersoii THE SILVER LINING. How Eve passed that night she best knew. Lord Landsdowne did not, thougli he partly guessed, seeing the white face and sunken eyes across the breakfast-table next morning. Worst of all, Sonor jVIendez and lier only re- maining friend now came not, though the morning was wearing away ; and she stood straining her eyes, half wild with impatience, watching for his arrival. Noon came, and brought him not; the sultry afternoon stole on, and still he was absent. Oh ! was he, too, turning against her ! Vv'^as he, too, forgetting and deserting her, like the rest of the world ? No, surely this was he at last. A fly had entered the gate, and was driving rapidly up the avenue. Eve started forward to meet it. Alas for her hopes ! it was a fly from the railway-station, and held only a lot of trunks and a lady — the sad, haughty, liandsome face of a lady she had seen before, and instinctively dis- trusted. It was Lady Landsdowne returned. Eve drew back with a low bow, but recoiled at the fierce bright glance she met from the lady's blue eyes — a glance that, had her looks been lightning, would have blasted her where she stood. The next moment she was gone, gather- ing up her silken skirt with lier gloved fingers, as if she feared it might be contaminated by the slightest contact with the other. '^ It never rains but it pours." Oh, truest of all true proverbs ! Eve stood and looked after her with a strained and bewildered air. What had she done now to incur that fiery glance ? Long ago she had heard of the intense and unreasonable jealousy of Lady Landsdowne, but it never occurred to her now. '' To the pure all things are pure." i 4 194 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. \\U m il ]^]ve tlioiiglit of Gverytliing, but not of tliut, until at last roused, iudign;iiit uiul outraged, she turned into the house ■\vitli a brigli^ened color and flannng eye. '* I will leave tliis instant — I will stay no longer where I am not wanted I Let Senor Mendcz go. He has for- saken nio, like all thu rest ; but 1 will lie down on the roaiisido and die before I stay to be treated like this I " She ran up-stairs, and was crossing the hall on her way to the room she occupied, when, tlirough the half-open door of the library, she heard a loud and passionate voice pronouncing her name. Instinctively she stopjied — I think the best of us would, in her place — and listened. The library was the room in which tlie lord of Black Monk's spent nearly all his time, but he was not the speaker. This raised angry voice was a woman's — was my lady's. "I tell you I will speak !" she was passionately crying out, " and I will not lower my voice. Let the shameless creature hear, if she likes ; such vile wretches care little what is said to them. But you, my lord, the saint, the paragon — I have found you out at last, have I ? This is the way you pass the time when I am absent ! I wish Miss Eve Hazel wood Joy of her conquest I " '•' Lady Landsdowne," the calm, low voice of her husband said, •' Iiave you gone mad ? For Heaven's sake lower your voice, or you will have every servant in the house at the door in five minutes ! " '^ Let them come ! " cried the excited lady, '' I want nothing better than to expose the pair of you I You're the model husband forsooth ! — so kind, so indulgent, so faith- ful — the admiration of all the weak-minded female fools I know ! But I have found you out in time, and I shall turn that miserable girl from the door in five minutes, and expose her to the whole country." Lord Landsdowne rose from his seat and crossed the room to close the door, when the sight of Eve, standing there like a stone, made him start back as if he had seen a ghost. He turned scarlet for the woman who could not blush for herself. " Miss Hazel wood, you here ! Good heavens ! you must have heard all I" *'I have, my lord,"' Eve said, her voice sounding even to herself strange and far off, '^ and I am going. I thank 4 4 - must THE SILVER LINING. ^95 liail you most sinccrelv for voiir kindness, but I wish I been dead before 1 ever came bere !" Lady Landsdowne came to tlie door, lier shawl lian^rinf^ oil her shoulders, her bonnet still on, lier face distorted by the storm uf jealous fury into wiiich she had Uished lier- self. '* Yes, go, you wretched girl, before I order my servants to turn you out, but do not think your infamy is to bo concealed. Xo, I will expose " " Peace, woman I " her husbaiul thundered. " Hold your poisonous tongue, or I will forget I am a man and '' "^ Strike me I " screamed Lady I/iiulsdowne, who seemed to be fairly beside lierself. *' I knew it would come to that. r>ut I will expose you both, the whole county shall know of it ; shall know lam a wronged, slandered, insulted wife I " She finished with an hysterical peal of laughter that ended in a wild and noisy storm of tears. Eve fled hor- rified, and Lord Landsdowne seizing the bell, rung a })eal that brought half a dozen curious servants to the spot at once. ''lier ladyshii) is not well! Attend to her!'' was his order, and then he too was gone. Not in search of Eve, though — he had not moral courage enough for that, but to lock himself in his own room for the rest of the day, out of tlie reach of his wife's serpent-tongue. And Eve, bareheaded and unshawled, as she had fled from Ilazclwood, was flying now from Black ]\[onk's. She did not fly far, however ; the gate opened before she reached it, and a tall gentleman entered, and with a cry of joy she looked up into the kind eyes and friendly face of Senor Mendez. ^* What's your liurry. Eve?'' he said, stopping her; " running away again, eh ? " ** Oh, let me go ! let me go ! " she cried, passionately. '^ I shall die if I stop here ! " ''Die, will you ? You look like it, I must say ! What has happened ?" *' Oh, do not ask me — it is too dreadful to tell ! Only take me away from here ! " '^ Directly ! Has Lady Landsdowne returned ? " " Yes, yes, yes ! Oh, she is ten times wor^^e than ]\ris3 Forest ? " f\ I n . \ 196 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. " Yos ; I know she is ! But what has she done to yon ? Oil, I see ! " lie exclaimed, his eyes liring and his face flnsliing ; '' Eve, lias she turned yon out ? " A passionate gesture was her answer — her voice was too choked to speak. "' My i)Oor child ! My poor persecuted little Eve !'' lie said coinpassionatcly, ''and "what are you going to do now .'' She hroke out into a wild cry — the wail of a half-hroken heart. " Oh, I don't know ! I only want to lie down and die!" A change ca:ne over Senor Mendez. He took both her hands in his, and looked brightly down in her face. " Kot yet, Eve ! not yet ! IS'ot till you see the silver lining of all these clouds, as I promised you. You have been thinking hard of me, I know, for leaving you so long ; but I could not help it. I have been ui> to London since, in search of another runaway — a friend of yours, Eve. It will Jill come right yet, believe me. Can you bear a shock. Eve ? " She looked at him in silent questioning ; and met his reassuring smile. '' Eve, did you ever hear of Conway Ilazelwood ? " " I have heard he was my father," she answered, iier heart beginning to throb fast, *' and that he was dead." " Half true and half false ! He is your father, and he is not dead ! Eve, your father lives ! " "Oh, where?" she wildly cried, "where in all the world have I a father ? " He took off his sombrero and held open his arms. " Here, Eve , here, beside you ! When all the world forsakes you, it is time your father should come to the rescue. Yes, Eve ; no longer the Creole planter, no longer Seuor Mendez, but Conway Ilazelwood and your father ! " I '"1 V MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 197 CHAPTER XXIV. MEASUKE FOR MEASIUE. The door of carved oak, stiuldcMl with brass nails, lead- ing into my lady's boudoir, stood ajar, and peeping through, you might have fancied you saw a glimpse of fairyland, so brilliant was the little room. Curtains of rose satin and snowy lace tempered the garish morning sun- shine, and fluttered softly in the light summer breeze. Your foot sunk deep in the velvet-pile carpet. The pictures on the walls were each worth a fortune ; and there were rare Indian cabinets, uiid inlaid tables, and Psyche mirrors, and the thousand and one costly trifles hidies with more money than they know what to do with love to gather round them. It was, altogether, a perfect gem of a room, this boudoir of my Lady Landsdowne. On a lounge uiuler the window, in a charming morning toilet, half-buried in rosy cushions, lay my lady herself. A pretty woman, as you know already, blue-eyed, golden- haired and fair-skinned, with regular features, and an air that might have done credit to a princess royal. Fair- haired, blue-eyed and delicate-featured, a gentle delinea- tion surely ; but Lady Landsdowne would not have im- pressed you with the idea of gentleness. The fair face looked hard and haughty at the best ; at the worst, as it was this morning, it looked sour, sullen, and almost flerce. A little stand with therenuiins of an epicurean breakfast, stood at her elbow ; the last new novel was in her hand, but she was not reading ; she wjis listening — not in im- patience, not in eagerness, but with a look of sullen de- termination about the thin, bitter lips and in the wicked l)lue eyes. AVhat she listened for came at last. There was a tap at the door, and her French maid entered, dip- ping and smiling. " A gentleman was below, and wislied to see mi ladi. lie did not send his name, but said he came on important business. OJi, mon Dieu ! here he was I '' Sure enough, there he was, at mademoiselle's elbow — a ip f^ i ■ I.! iM 198 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. tall gentleman, with a handsome, bronzed face, jet-black beard and mustache, dark-bright eyes, and the air gen- erally of an Italian brigand. " Your mistress will see me," said this dark apparition ; *^ have the goodness to go, mademoiselle ! " rvlademoisellc looked at her mistress, aghast. ]\[y lady had risen to a sitting position and waved her off with her jeweled hand. She seemed very little surprised or startled by this strange visitor ; she had turned pale, it is true, and mademoiselle noticed it was like the gray pallor of death; but that was all. Her glittering eyes were fixed on his face as he came in and closed the door, and she was the first to speak, clearly and steadily. " So you have come," she said ; '^sooner or later I knew you would I " *' I have come," said the deep voice of Senor Mendez, staiiding before her, dark and stern as Radamanthus, '' L have come to seal your fate I Murderess, matricide, big- amist, your career is run. I come as an aveuger, to lead you to your doom ! " A strange mode of saluting a great lady in her own house ! But Lady Landsdowiie only looked up in his face with a smile that showed all her glistening white teeth. *' Will you not take a seat, Mr. Ilazelwood ?" she said, in her sweetest tone, "or perhaps you jirefer to rant standing. That tragic speecli would bringdown the house if you were in Drury Lane, or in the Bowery, in your own delightful land over the sea ! Did you expect me to faint at sight of you, this morning, Conway ? " He looked at her in amazement. Bold and daring as he knew her to be, he was hardly prepared for such hardi- hood, for such brazen effrontery as this. She broke into II derisive little laugh as she watched him. '' Even so, Mr. Ilazelwood I Strange to say, I fi^'ir you no more to-day than I did sixteen years ago, when I poi- soned your pretty bride, got your brother hanged, broke your father's heart, and sent^ you a wanderer over the world. Oh, no ! I am not afraid of you, Conway ; I never was afraid of any thing or any u.;o in my life, and I am not likely to begin now." *' You are the devil himself, I believe," said Mr. Hazel- wood ; '* but if you were ten times tiie incarnate demon you are, your race is run, your power to do evil is ended. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 199 For stone walls, a treadmill, or a strait-jacket have ren- dered harmless worse fiends than vou. " Again she laughed her low, mocking, derisive langh. The woman seemed to he scarcelv human \n her darin^r fearlessness ; and it v/as no mock courage, yon could see ; some secret sense of power susi)ended and lifted her uhove all fear. " ' Justice, thongh tlie heavens fall I ' Is that yonr re- lentless motto, Mr. Hazel wood ? "Well, I have reason to be thankful to yon for tlie sixteen years' grace you have given me ! You see I have not wasted my time — 1 have gained wealth, rank, title, position. I have drank the wine of life hot and sweet, and now that I luive got to the lees I tind them rather bitter and palling to the taste. I am getting bhfse, ^Fr. Ilazelwood, and even the treadn !U may he pleasant by way of change ! ITow has the world gone with yon these sixteen long years, my dear hus- band ? " " Woman ! woman ! is no spark of human nature left in your black and murderous heart, that you can talk like til is ? It matters not to yon where I have been — I have known where you were this many a day, and I spared you. You had entrapped a good and honorable man into marriage by your devilish wiles ; and for his sake, though he was a stranger to me, I spared you. You were a doul)le, a treble murderess. You had ruined my life, made me a wanderer and an outcast, but still I spared you. And, fiend that you are, I would have spared you to the last — I would have left you to the (Ireat Avenger of all wrongs, biit for this hist, cruelest deed of all. The shameful and inhu- man deed committed last night !" " Committed last nigiit ! Oh, you mean turning that girl out of doors ! AVhy, ^[r. Ilazelwood, reflect — I conio home and find a young and pretty woman domiciled with my husband, a young and handsome juan, and " '' Silence ! "' he thundered, raisinghis voice, for the tlrst time, and Avith a Hash from his dark eyes, that made even the female fiend before him cowei*. " Silence, or Twill forget I am a man, and strangle you where y(tu sit ! Wretch, Jezebel, fiendess ! You know as well as 1 do, that girl is your own daughter I " Lady Landsdowne, stretched out Inr hand for a jeweled fan on the table, and began fanning herself. ^J_.L._ Mr 200 THE RIVAL BROTHERS.