BELLE OF LYNN BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME \uthorof "THRowr ON THE WORLD," "DoRA THORNE," "THE DUKE'S SECRET/' "GOLDEN DAWN," Etc., ETC. NEW YORK HURST AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER I. " You are the ' Belle of Lynn,' " he said to her, with a smile. " I have heard of nothing else since I came here. All the masters of that dull old grammar-school, and half the pupils too " " They are very kind," she replied, shyly, " but I do not know any of them, and I did not know that they had given me that name." " They speak of you always as the Belle of Lynn," he replied. '< Are you content to be the belle of a village ? " " Lynn is n.ot a village," she answered, gravely. " What is it, then ? " he asked. " Lynn is a county town, quaint and old-fashioned full of historical interest. It is of far more importance than any village could be." " Then you are content to be the Belle of Lynn ? " he repeated ; and with a smile bright as the sunshine around her the young girl answered : " Yes, I am quite content. I should be content to be any one or anything if only for the happiness of living !n this beautiful world." He looked around him on the green trees, the shining waters, and the blue sky, thinking to himself that the face before him was the most beautiful of all things upon which he gazed. " I never thought," he said, " when I took up my abode at the Clover Farm that I should have the privi- lege of being so near to you. What a fortunate thing it ia for me ! You will say that I exaggerate, but it is true that the very sight of you brings to my mind all that ia 2134480 8 THE BELLE OF LYNN. moat fair and bright in creation. I think of the Tight of the 6un, the shining of the stars, the singing of the birds, and the bloom of all lovely flowers, when 1 look at your face." She smiled, and her eyes drooped from his, but she answered : " Mine must be an extraordinary kind of face to re- mind you of all those things." Though she smiled, he could see that she was pleased, and that the eyes she hid from him were shining with delight. " Why did you come to live at the farm ? " she asked, and he sighed before he answered her. u It was so dark at the grain mar-school," he answered ; " dark and gloomy ; the building is old-fashioned, and so completely surrounded by tall trees that in some of the rooms it is hardly possible to read, and I I love sun- shine, light, brightness and fresh air above all things. I tried my best, but I could not live there." She looked up into his face with wonder. " You are not English ? " she said. " No," he replied, " I am not English. I belong to the fairest land on which the sun shines, the land of the lily and the violet beautiful France." " You do not look like a Frenchman," she said ; then drooped her lovely eyes again, lest he should read in them how well she had studied his face. " You are fair, and tall, and strong," she continued ; " you have gray eyes that grow black when you are much, in earnest. You are more like the typical Saxon than the typical French- man." " I care little what I look like, provided I please you," he said, quickly. He did so ; but she would not tell him now much. " I have heard your name, too," she said, " but it was from one of the farm-servants, who did not know how to pronounce it." " My name is Leon de Soldana," he said, with a low bow, and a hot flush which covered his face. " And you are " then she stopped ; but he took the words from her. THE BELLE OF LTHH. 7 ".I am a French refugee. I belong to one of the oldest families in France. My ancestors were lords of a large and fair domain, while I am friendless, homeless, penni- less, but for the money I earn by teaching my native language. It was musical enongh once in my ears, before these lads of Lynn tortured and twisted it out of all sound and sense. I am that most despised of all men a French refugee, a nobleman without a shilling, a man with an ancient title and no home ! " " What is your title ? " she asked, softly. " I am, or should be, if I had my rights, the Corate de Soldana," he answered. " Is that known at the College ? " she asked. " Only to the principal," he answered. " I should have a fine life with those boys if they knew I was Comte de Soldana. It is hard enough now ; it would be worse then. No one knows but the principal and you," he added, his voice softening. " I try to forget all about it, my beautiful France, and the honors that should be mine. I try to remember that I am Leon de Soldana, teacher of French at St. Edward's Grammar School, Lynn." " I wish," she said gently, " I could do something for you." " You can ! " he cried, eagerly. " You can brighten my whole life, you can give me the great pleasure of see- ing you sometimes, and of speaking to you ; we shall be near neighbors. I shall forget all trouble if I may look at and speak to you why, I have been so lonely and so friendless that it is like a vision of Paradise to me. Tell me your name? You must have another besides the Belle of Lynn." " My name is Lima Derwent," she answered. " Lima ! " he cried. " Why, that is a Spanish word." " No. You would never guess why that name was given to me. Have you ever met one of those calm, gentle women who, without being what the world calls clever and intellectual, have ideas and thoughts that are all poetry ? My mother is one of them. She has no idea of it herself ; she has read no poetry ; she has not even been educated; yet she speaks always as though she 8 THE BKLLE OF LTKK. 4new what the birds sing to one another, and what mes- sages the wind brings from over the sea. She knows the secrets of all the flowers and trees that grow around us ; she knows what blossoms the bees love best ; she knows where the birds love to build ; and what do you think ray mother loves best ? " " I cannot tell," he said, with an admiring glance at the radiant face. " The lime-trees," she cried, " those beautiful, shim- mering, golden, green limes you see ; they grow all round the banks of the Allan Water. My mother loves them. My father says she makes a kind of religion out of them ; she knows every branch ; she knows where every bird's nest is built; she knows all the secrets that the wind whispers to them. When she came here, a young bride, fair and gentle, to Allan Water, she spent half her time under the boughs of the lime-trees, and she named me after them. I am really Lima of the lime-trees. Do you know what else my mother says ? " "No," he replied. " She says that ever since I have been born there has been a cadence of melancholy in the music that the wind makes through the boughs. She says that it is a sign of some unhappiness in the future for me, but I do not believe that do you ? " she asked, raising her radiant face to his. "I believe in unhappiness for you ! " he cried. " I should say it was almost impossible. If your fortunes are but fair as your face, Miss JDerwent, they will be bright enough." " My father always reproves her," said the girl, grave- ly, " but for all that, when we walk together by the limes, my mother and I, when the leaves rnstle and the boughs sway, her face grows troubled, and she says : * Be careful, Lima ; ah, be very careful, Lima ; the voice of the wind bodes sorrow for you.' ' " Are you frightened ? " he asked. " No, not at all. In all this bright, wide world, I see no shadow of coming sorrow for me," she answered. " I hope your life may be as smooth and bright as jour beautiful Allan Water," said Leon, THE BELLL. OF LYNN. As he spoke he looked around him. He was no poet, nor had he much of the artist's soul, but he marvelled at flhe beauty of the scene. This beautiful Allan Water is known all over England as one of the loveliest spots in it. Poets have sung of it, and the artists have sketched it in all seasons and in all lights a broad, beautiful stream, wide, deep, and long ; on one side of it rose the old town and green woods of Lynn, on the other stood the picturesque old mill known as the Allan Water Mill. The great wheel was turned by part of the stream where the water ran through a deep valley, and then came foaming, rushing back into the stream. When the great wheel of the mill was at work, one could hear the foaming and dashing of the waters at a great distance. All along the banks of Allan Water grew magnificent lime-trees; graceful willows dipped their branches into the stream; in some distant part, where the water was shaded by trees, and the little pleasure-boats did not venture, the water-lilies grew in great white clusters ; graceful sedges and green reeds, with blue forget-me-nots, grew in the low grass that the water was always kissing in slow, solemn fashion. People came from far and near to sketch the pictur- esque old mill and to row their boats on Allan Water a broad, beautiful stretch of water ; white swans sailed on its breast, and wild fowl made it their home ; the water- martins haunted it ; it was said even that the coot and the heron had been seen there. At one part, near Lynn Wood, it grew narrower, and the dwellers in Lynn had thrown a bridge across it by no means the work of an architect, who would have shuddered, while an artist re- ioiced in it a quaint, irregular bridge, which was the charm of the whole landscape. Old-fashioned stepping- stones led to it, and the bridge itself seemed to have been seized upon by the very goddess of flowers ; thick, green ivy clustered over the old wood-work, and every wild flower, every creeper that could find a place grew there. A great artist painted the bridge of Allan Water, the quaint wooden pile with its wealth of twining foliage; the grand stretch of water throbbing under the crimson ravi 10 THE BELLE OF LYITK. of the setting sun ; the great green limes, the darls; masses of Lynn Woods; the mill, with the great wheel; and all England grew crazy with delight over the picture. It was morning now, a morning in May, when the miller's lovely daughter, crossing the bridge, met the young stranger whom she had seen many times, but to whom she had not spoken. There was a plank that had become loosened, and a large bunch of crackling thorns had been placed over it in primitive style, and these same thorns had caught in Lima Derwent's dress; she could not extricate herself, but the young stranger came to her rescue and released her. She thanked him, and then the littte conversation, which was to have great results, took place. A morning in May, with the sun shining, and the beautiful wide water laughing in its rays. The birds were singing, the golden green leaves of the limes rippled in the sweet, soft air, the blue forget-me-nots looked up from the green grass with wondering eyes ; the sky was blue, and the waters had caught a golden tinge ; what wonder if they found the world so fair, and Allan Water the fairest spot in it ? CHAPTER II. A STRANGELY assorted pair, the two who stood on Allan Water Bridge, and after a time, a lingering touch of the hand, and lingering glances of the eye, showed that part- ing on that May morning was not pleasant. A strangely assorted pair; for she, despite her dainty loveliness, her grace, the musical ring and intonation of her voice, the proud poise of her head, was only a miller's daughter ; and he, homeless, friendless, almost penniless, was the descendant of one of the oldest families of France. Strangely assorted, yet they seemed to have a lingering attraction for each other; for while Leon de Soldana crossed the bridge and went through the narrow lane which was a bower of woodbines and led to Clover Farm his heart was full of her, and he turned many times to watch the slender figure in the blue dress as it disappeared THE BELLE OF LINK. 11 between the trees. As she walked home by the tangling outstretched water, her whole thoughts were of him. A miller's daughter ! Yet, any one meeting her that morning with the light of the dawn of love shining in her eyes, and her fair face flushed with the fresh air, her hands filled with fresh dewy sprays of lilac just gathered, might have believed her to be a young princess. The miller at Allan Water Bridge held an exceptional position, and he had given to his daughter an education quite unusual for one of her class. The mill had de- scended from father to son for many generations. The Derwents of the mill were as proud in the way of their descent as were the Howards or the Talbote. To the u4\l of Allan belonged all the fertile meadow land, the corn fields, the huge stacks of hay, the cattle feeding in the meadows, the sheep and lambs roaming amidst sweet frasses and heather ; the white swans that sailed so grace- ally over the broad deep bosom of Allan "Water; the flights of blue pigeons that hovered over the old red roof, the spacious garden with its treasures of old-fashioned flowers ; the orchards where the apple-blossoms were all in bloom ; for the mill of Allan was a prosperous place, and the millers of Allan were reputed rich. The present owner, John Derwent, had succeeded to the mills and meadows and the wealth of the Derwents when he was quite young, and he had married quite young the prettiest and sweetest lassie, he was ac- customed to say, in the three kingdoms. He loved her all the better, perhaps, because he did not quite under- stand her. She was gentle, kindly of heart, industrious, fair and comely of face, but there were depths in her character that the miller would never fathom if he lived with her forever. An unconscious poetical train of thought and ideas. She could hear voices and music where others heard none; things seemed plain to her that others did not think of or understand. She loved the beauties of nature and listened to the wonders of her voice. There were times when the miller looked in wonder at his wife ; there can be no mistake about this one fact, that whether it be given in abundance or not, this gift of poetry raises 12 THE BELLE OF LTNH. its possessor above all others. The miller did not always understand his wife, but he revered and respected her. They had been married many years before the little daughter was born, who was afterward to be the sun- shine of the house. From the first they marvelled at her, she was so fair, so exquisite, so dainty ; they wor- shipped her with passionate love; the whole world to them was centered in that one fair little child. There was something almost fierce and vehement about the miller's love for his little daughter. If her finger ached, if her lovely face grew pale, if her blue eyes grew dim, he was beside himself with fear. He had smiled at the mother's fanciful name chosen for her. Yet he was not ill-pleased, for he loved the green limes even as he loved Allan "Water. After the birth of the little Lima he be- came a changed man ; before that time he had been recklessly generous, now he had but one idea, and that was to save save all for her. When she was a tiny child of three, playing under the shadow of the green leaves, the sunlight making gold of her hair, he would watch her in solemn silence, then call his wife to his side, and say : " That little lassie is a lady. She is only a miller's daughter, but nature has made her a lady, and we must help nature. She shall be a lady. She shall learn all that ladies learn ; she shall have the gold that ladies like to spend ; we must not thwart nature, for nature has made her a lady. Look at the graceful figure, light and well- poised as a bird on its wing; look at the little white nands, at the light-blue eyes ; we must not thwart nature. That lassie will never make hay in the meadows, or climb the apple-trees, or milk the cows. She will be dainty, delicate, and beautiful." As the child grew, the passionate love of father and mother grew with her ; for her they worked, for her they toiled and saved. They deprived themselves of many well-earned comforts, of all the luxury and indulgence, that the golden store might be increased which was to make Lima a lady. Her father's love for the golden- haired girl was so great he would have given his life for THE BELLE OF LYNN. 13 her; he gave everything else his time, his labor, his thoughts, his cares, nis heart, and his love. She must be a lady nothing mean or sordid must come near her, nothing rough or rude must come in contact with her. No hot-house flower was ever more tenderly cherished, more daintily reared than the miller's daughter. She must be a lady, and there was no one to teach her at Allan Mill, so it was decided that she should go to school. The best and most fashionable school in that part of the county was kept by Mrs. Sutherland at Craig House, Lynn. " A school " to quote from the circular " for tne education of the daughters of the nobility and gentry." Nothing to do with trade. When the miller first applied to Mrs. Sutherland she said most decidedly that she could not take his daughter. " It would not do. It would lower the standard of the school." He did the wisest thing possible ; he brought Lima into the presence of the school-mistress, and she, looking at her with wondering eyes, said, " She is a little lady." The result was that Lima Derwent was admitted into that most select assembly, and there she remained until she was sixteen. She came home to the mill of Allan, beautiful, accom- plished, and " a lady." She was not in the least degree spoiled by this education so far above her class. She did not look down with contempt on the miller and his home- ly ways, or on her mother, whose English was not always perfect, although her ideas were full of poetry. She did not look down on her old home or her surroundings : she loved them all as though she had never left them. Her character was beautiful in its simplicity and tenderness. Although she had received the education of a lady, she knew that she was nothing more than a miller's daughter. She brought back to her beautiful old home accomplish- ments, education, graceful manners, but not one particle of affectation or vanity. The miller was delighted. Some little improvements were made in honor of her return. The miller built a new room large and lofty overlook- ing the broad, beautiful sheet of Allan Water; he fur- 14 THE BELLE OF LYNN. nished it with unusual luxury ; there was a piano, a few fine engravings and water-colors, an easel, a book-case, and pretty, fanciful chairs. This was Lima's room, and to the miller, when she was in it, it seemed like an earthly Paradise. So for a year she lived in the midst of the sunshine- the flowers and trees, the great, shining waters, her books and her music. She was perhaps lonely, although she never complained. Her education had entirely unfitted her for any inti- macy or companionship with those of her own class : there was nothing in common between this girl refined, sensitive, delicate, with her spiritual, poetical mind, and highly organized nature and the Misses Johnson, daugh- ters of a neighboring farmer, hearty, healthy, buxom girls, who quarrelled about sweethearts and bonnets, or between the Misses Rudcorn, who were never so happy as when they were riding across the country, at imminent danger to their necks. And the class in which she had been educated did not recognize her; she was never invited to visit Lynn Rectory, or the Hall, or Allan House, so that she was very lonely, and there were times when she. longed for young people, longed to talk and to laugh in her own fashion : but she never expressed the wish, and never complained. She was the sunshine of the house ; her beautiiul face, the sheen of her golden hair, her bright smile, the music of her voice, seemed to fill the old walls with warmth and sunshine. The miller had wor* shipped her as a child, he loved her now with even a greater and more passionate affection ; she was the very light of his eye, the joy of his heart and the pride of hie Hie. He would look at her and watch her until the teare dimmed his eyes. Then came the second part of the drama ; the first had been that nature must not be thwarted she must be a lady; the second was that, being a lady, she must of necessity marry a gentleman. There was no help for it. The florid, good-natured farmers of the neighborhood would not do for this dainty, beautiful girl, and the miller was often perplexed as to how he should find a husband for her. His wife laughed at the notion. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 15 "There is plenty of time yet," she would answer; " Lima is not quite seventeen ; you need not think of a husband for her for some years yet." " No, perhaps not ; but my lady lass must marry a gentleman when the time to marry comes," said the miller. " John," gaid his wife, " Yon seem to forget one thing marriages are made in heaven. It is not for us to find a husband for Lima. She will do that, guided by her own love and instinct." " I am not so sure whether love and instinct are safe guides," said the miller ; and in the after-time he often thought of his own words, and said to himself that pru- dence should lead love and instinct. But, alas ! it never did yet, and it never will! Calm, bright, and clear as the shining water around her, was the life of Lima Derwent, until she reached her seventeenth year, then the calm was broken never to return. CHAPTER III. THE famous grammar-school of St. Edward's made the town of Lynn famous. It had been founded many hun- dred years ago by one of the kings of that name, who endowed it with immense wealth. Through all the storms and tempests that troubled the state this school steered safely ; years added but to its wealth and reputa- tion. It was thought something of an innovation at first -vhen foreign masters were asked to reside there. The i{ French of Stratford -le-Bow " had been sufficient, but the managers were growing more particular as the school grew in repute. They had a French master to teach French and a German master for German. It was to take the situation of French teacher in St. Edward's Grammar-school that Leon de Soldana came to Lynn. The old master, who had been taken ill suddenly, died in the midst of a busy term, and there was no resource but for the managers to advertise. They did so, and the 1iii/!. this handsome young prince of a banished race, and tl ( first light that brightened his life was the kindly etnil; * of the Belle of Lynn. He thought more as he walked home than he had ever done before ; young as he was. his life had been such a struggle with poverty, he had not felt the bitterness of exile so keenly until now. He stopped at the little white gate which led into the rich clover meadows. If he were but lord of Soldana, with the magnificent ancestral home of his of which he had heard eo mucli, but which he could not hope to see, he might THE BELLE OF LYNN. 19 perhaps win the love of some girl as fair as this. Lord of Soldana ! His soul seemed to wake up within him when he uttered the words aloud, just as his ancestors had answered to the battle call. Lord of Soldana, with men to command and money to spend, a large domain to rule over ; and then he burst into cruel, pitiful laughter. Lord of Soldana ! when only a few shillings stood be kween him and absolute poverty. " Long live the white lilies of France ! " he said to him- self. " My grandfather must have done some good to Ma country or he would never have been banished from it " as a rule the man who is an enemy to his own nation is feted and made much of " Long live the white lilies of France." Then, from the far distance, came the sound of the bells of Lynn, and he knew that he must go to work again. The lordship of Soldana, the white lilies of France, the beautiful face of the girl he had just left, must all pass away now like a dream : he must face row after row of sturdy British boys, each one of whom seem- ed to have a more horrible pronunciation than the others. Sturdy British boys who looked down with infinite contempt on all attempts to teach them French, asking each other, with true British indignation, of what use it was ; while the Comte de Soldana forgot his dreams in the very practical work before him. Allan Water shone bright and clear in the morning sunlight, and Lima Derwent stood at the window watch- ing the sunlight that lay upon it. It had been the miller's fancy that this window of tlsr new room which he had built exclusively for his dang'n ter's use should look right over the broad, shining waf-T and the stream itself washed up against the newly built wall. Any one rowing in a boat past that window could almost have touched it, and could easily converse with any one standing there, as Lima was doing now. She was thinking of the first time she had heard the young French refugee spoken about, an evening some five weeks ago, when one of her father's friends had called at the Mill of Allan, and, speaking of the grammar- 20 THE BELLE OF LTN1T. school, eaid they had a new French master there, and what a fine handsome young man he was. The miller growled out that he hated Frenchmen, and that if they were as handsome as Cupid it would make no difference to him. The second time was when Mrs. Grey, of the Clover Farm, came over to consult her mother as to the prudence of taking him in as a lodger. " I tell you quite frankly, Mrs. Derwent," said the mistress of Clover Farm, " that if I had young daughters about the house I would not do it, for a handsomer, more kindly young gentleman never lived. He is like a young Erince in his manner not that I have seen a prince, but e is what I should think they are." And Lima had pondered deeply over her words ; she was thinking of them now as she watched the sunlight deepening on the calm breast of Allan "Water. CHAPTEK IV. THERE came a moonlight night in May, when the lilacs were so fully in bloom that their pale, soft petals fell on the grass, and the white syringa flowers drooped with the weight of their own perfume a night so still, so sweet, that it might have been borrowed from Heaven. Allan Water had not a ripple on its deep bosom the white lily buds were sleeping, the swans had gone to rest, the forget-me-nots had shut their blue eyes, the wind stirred the green leaves so faintly it seemed to sigh over them, and Leon de Soldana stood on the rustic bridge watching the lights that shone from the Mill of Allan. It was more than ten days since he had met Lima, and he had seen her every day since. Once he had over- taken her in the green, shady lane that led to the farm, and two whole hours had passed before they even realized that they had met and it was time to part. There came a morning when he could not sleep for thinking ol her ; her eyes, her face, her voice haunted him, and he rose quite early while the dew lay on the ground, and went THE BELLE OF LYNN. 21 out into the clover meadows. The loveliness of the bright, fair morning led him on until he came to the fields near the Allan Water ; and there, shining between the great lime-trees, he saw the folds of a blue dress; he saw Lima standing gathering the thick dew-drops from the blades of grass. Will he ever forget the beauty of that blushing face, as she told him with smiles and utter confusion why she was in the fields so early ? She had read in some old-fashioned book that if any maiden washed her face for nine mornings together in May-dew it was a charm that would give her a com- plexion like lilies and roses forevermore. He laughed, too, as he heard it, thinking to himself surely never was a picture so fair as that of this tall, slender English girl, whose feet scarce brushed the daisies as she stepped lightly over the grass, her beautiful face blooming with health and radiant with happiness. How lovely she looked with the dew on her face, hanging on the long dark lashes, fringing the golden hair. " I wish every lady in the land used your cosmetique" he said ; and she answered carelessly that it was in the power of all. Even afterward that picture returned to him a girl standing in the long green grass, her hands filled with morning dew, and her face blooming with the richest hues of health. They had lingered until the sun rose high in the heavens, and then the sole remaining descendant of the Soldanas suddenly remembered that the sturdy British boys would be waiting for him. They met again when Leon was crossing the Lynn Woods, and Lima sat sketching a giant oak. That day the girl went home with such a heaven of delight in her face, such a light in her eyes, that her mother looked at her in wonder. What was coming over the child that her face should be so dazzling and bright ? Then came the moonlight when Leon, haunted still by dreams and memories of her, unable to sleep or to rest, came out to look at the house where she lived the casket which held his jewel. He could see so plainly the lights in her window, which reflected straight and clear in the deep waters. Then an unutterable longing seized him to be 22 THE BELLE OF LTNH. nearer her. A boat was lightly fastened to the branches of an alder-tree. He unknotted the cords, and the next minute was rowing quickly toward her window. He knew how to use the oars, this man, whose ancestors had fought in the Crusades. He was soon underneath her window. It was a picture in itself to see the boat in the moonlight skimming the deep, bright waters, just as it was a poem in itself listen- ino; to the sweeping strokes of the oars. There, under her window, he rests at last, and listens, for she is singing, and he thinks to himself never was music so sweet. The window is closed and the lace blinds drawn ; the boat rests motionless just where the shadow of the great trees fall ; but he can hear plainly the sound floats down to him through the clear air and the white moonlight. He can even near the words, each one clear and distinct. It is the old-fashioned ballad that will be sweet until the world ends " On the banks of Allan Water, Where the sweet spring tide did fall, Was the miller's lovely daughter, Fairest of them all. l For a bride a soldier sought her, And a winning tongue had he ; On the banks of Allan Water, None so gay as she. " On the banks of Allan Water, When brown autumn spreads its store, There I saw the miller's daughter, But she smiled no more. ** For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was be ; On the banks of Allan Water, None was sad as she. "On the banks of Allan Water, When the winter snow fell fast, Still was seen the miller's daughter; Chilling blew the blast. * 4 But the miller's lovely daughter, Both from cold and care was free; On the banks of Allan Water There a corpse lay she." The soft, sad refrain floated down to him, and seemed to mingle with the sigh of the wind and the wash of the THE BELLE OF LYNN. 23 waters, until it formed a dirge a sweet, sad dirge ; he wondered just a little who this miller's lovely daughter was; he resolved that when he saw her next lie would ask her all about the ballad. Then, again, falling as it were from the window, in a soft, sweet shower of notes came the words : " On the banks of Allan Water There a corpse lay she." He wished that the wind did not sigh through the trees, and the water would not seem to sob as it washed round the little boat. He wished she had not sung so sad a song, but had sung of love, of hope, of happiness. He must tell her when he saw her next ; those beauti- ful young lips of hers must not sing of sorrow or of death. Surely the sweet-scented wind must blow chill from the great mere; he found himself trembling without at all knowing why. Then the song changed, the sigh of the wind and the sobbing of the water grew fainter, the moonlight grew brighter, all the heart and soul there was in him awoke to its full extent as he listened. He forgot his poverty and his exile, he forgot the bright beauty of his native land, he forgot the grand old castle and the waving woods, the banners of his ancestors, and the white lilies of fair France ; even the present sordid miseries of his life the rows of sturdy British boys were all forgotten as he listened to the bright song which told of hope and love that should never, never die. The words floated away over Allan "Water, and there was silence ; the light died from that window, and came from ail upper casement ; he heard her open it and knew that she was looking at the moonlight beauty of Allan Water. He remained quite silent ; no stir of the water, of the oars, or of the boat told of his presence ; he would not have her know that he was watching and waiting under her window; she might not be pleased, and a frown on her fair face would darken even the sunshine for him. When the window was fastened and the light gone, he 24 THE BELLE OF LYNN. rowed back again over Allan "Water, and went home to dream of her. It was evening when he saw her next ; he had been waiting some hours then to see her, and just at sunset he caught sight of the blue gown down by the banks of the great wide mere. " I heard you singing last night," he said. " I listened to you, and I want you to tell me is it of this Alia n Water that you sung ? " " No," she answered. " The ballad called ' On the Banks of Allan Water' is one of the oldest we have. This beautiful stream here is named after the Allans of Allan, who lived here many hundred years ago. I have always loved it, because, you see," she added, with a deep blush, " it is all about a miller's lovely daughter." " But it is such a mournful song," he cried. " I can- not bear to hear you sing it." She looked at nim with wistful eyes. " It is like life," she answered ; " first she was gay and fair, then she loved, then she died." " Surely you do not think that love ends in death ? " he cried. " Death is the end of all things," she said. " ' From cold and care was free.' Is not that the end of all lives ? " He spoke so vehemently that she could hardly under- stand him : " No a thousand times no ! Who could have be* lieved that you, so young, so bright, so fair, could have such gloomy thoughts ? It is wonderful to me how sad- ness lies underneath the character of all English people." " I am not sad " she answered, raising her beautiful eyes to his, " but I cannot help seeing, truths. I am not given to sadness. I may say of myself " On the banks of Allan Water None so gay as she." " I shall love that ballad, and yet I shall hate it," cried Leon. " Sing it to me again." Once more she sung it, and the clear, sad notes floated over the water, THE BELLE OF LYNN. 25 " It gives me a strange, uncanny feeling," he said ; " but Lima let me call you Lima you need not sing sad ballads; you will have a bright fate, bright love, bright fortune, bright life awaits you ; sing no more of sorrow or death ; no false lover will win your heart onlj to throw it away." He had grown to love her so deeply, so dearly, so well, that he could not bear to think of a shadow falling over her life. Love of her had taken possession of him ; love of her brightened the whole world for him; love of her had changed the land of exile into earthly paradise ; love of her made him believe that it was oetter to have poverty, hard work, exile and obscurity with her than honor, glory, title and fortune without her. He said to himself that if the grand old castle and the ancient domain, the large revenue and the family honors were his, he would lay them all at her feet he would crown her with the white lilies of France. But he was poor, and an exile ! Would it be fair to ask this fresh, beautiful young girl to share his lot ? and if he asked her would she say " yes ? " Should he woo her and win her, this fair-haired girl who had brightened the world for him ? He did not hear the answer that wailed through the trees, any more than he saw the tragical future that lay before him. CHAPTER V. THERE is nothing in life so sweet as love's young dream ; the wealth and the honors that come afterward, the fullness of gratified ambition, the knowledge of the world's respect, are all nothing compared to the beauty and sweetness of love's young dream when the sun shines and the skies are blue for us ; when the birds sing and the flowers bloom for us ; when " love is heaven, and heaven is love." It comes but once in life ; other loves may succeed it, only one has the sweetness, the passion, the beauty, and the poetry of love's joung dream. 86 THE BELLE OF LYNN. It was July now ; the languor of summer heat had set- tled over the land; even me red roses yielded to the warmth, and the water-lilies on the great wide mere seemed to be sleeping in the sun. Not many weeks since the last of the Soldanas had met the miller's daughter, and already he had forgotten everything else in the wide world. There were times even when he forgot the sturdy British boys and their lessons, until a sharp note or mes- sage from the principal brought him back to his senses. He seemed only to live in the time he spent with her ; she was the whole world to him. To meet her in the early morning, to see her at noon, to find her down by the water-side on the lovely summer evenings, had be- come the end and aim of his life. To watch the loveli- ness of her face, to catch the varying tones of her voice, to tell her over and over again how dearly he loved her, to kiss the white hands that he clasped in his own, were the delights of his life. He did not know that any one had ever loved in the same fashion before ; he thought it was to them alone this new revelation of life had come. He laughed when he remembered that he had once found exile and poverty hard to bear ; exile had brought him to her presence ; poverty had led him to find her ; wel- come both with her. He had intended to keep his secret for a time, she was so young, but there came a day when it escaped him. A beautiful day in June, when the great sheaves of white lilies that grew in the gardens of Allan Mill were all in bloom, and Lima, passing them by, gathered two or three lovingly, and with them she placed some rich red roses. A beautiful silent June afternoon, and she was going down to the water's edge. As a matter of course she met Leon. How he contrived to give to all these meetings the appearance of being accidental it was impossible to say, but he did so. Equally, as a matter of course, he sat down by her side, and his attention was caught, by the sunlight on the white shining petals of the lily. " How many countries have floral emblems !" he said. * The lilies of France, the roses of England, the sham- THE BELLE OP LYNN. 27 rock of Ireland, the thistle of Scotland. There are none that I love like the regal white lilies." He took one from her hand as he spoke. " The lilies of France and the roses of England which will you have, Lima ? " " Both," she replied. " Both ! " he repeated, slowly, placing two of the beau- tiful flowers close together. " Do you know what that implies ? " " No," she anwered, with a hot flush, " I do not." Tiie golden haze of the afternoon dropped over them ; the faint washing of the waters as it rippled through the green grass ; the faint song of the birds, who had sought shelter from the heat, were the only sounds that broke a silence half divine. " The lily is beautiful alone, " he said, " though the sweet leaves are weak ; put lily and rose together, they improve and strengthen each other. Lima, look at me and not at Allan Water. Do you see no allegory in that?" She would not say so, " My dear, I have loved you," he said, " from the first moment I saw you. If I tried forever I could not tell you how much I love you. If every leaf on every tree, if every blade of grass in the meadows, if every single drop in the great sheet of Allan "Water could speak, and they spoke forever, still they could not tell how much I love you, and I want you, my love, to be my wife." " Your wife ? " she repeated ; " I have never thought of such a thing ! " " But marriage is the end of all true love," he cried. " And you, oh, Lima, if there be any truth in women's eyes, you love me." The beautiful eyes drooped from his, the coy, sweet face turned now so that he should not see it. " In spite of all my troubles," said Leon, " I esteem myself the most fortunate of men. To know you and to love you would compensate me for the loss of a crown or a kingdom. Oh, Lima, say you love me a little; I will win the rest. Say you will be my wife." 28 THE BELLE OF LYNN. But the shy, sweet lips uttered DO word a very paroxysm of shyness seemed to have come over her. " Lima, say one word to me," he pleaded. But Lima had no word. He placed both lily and rose in her hand : " If you will not speak to me, Lima, settle my fate for me ; every moment of suspense is an hour of torture to me. If you love me, if you will be my wife, give th<- English rose to me and keep the French lily yourself. If but I will not utter the words. I have faith in you ; you will try to love me ; " and a few minutes afterward the English rose fresh, red, and blooming was laid in his hands. How he kissed her, thanked her, blessed her, words could not tell. It was the brief, sweet madness of love's young dream an hour never to be forgotten by either ; perhaps, the most perfectly happy one in cither's life. Until the day she died Lima JDerwent preserved that lily, even though it was faded, withered and dead. It was an hour snatched from life, bright with brightness and love, sent straight from Heaven. " I can hardly believe my own good fortune," said Leon, after a time ; " to think that I, a poor, friendless exile, should win you. Why, Lima, you might be a queen." " I do not think many kings would come wooing me," she said, laughingly ; but he cried : " You are one of nature's queens, Lima, and now that I have won your sweet love, and won you, tell me when you will marry me ? " She shrunk back, scared and frightened. " That will not be for a long time yet," she said "a long time, Leon." " Ah, no, Lima ! "We love each other, why should we spend the youngest, brightest, and best years of our life apart? I have always heard that early marriages are best. Let me go now to your parents and ask them ? " Then the beautiful face grew pale and scared. " Oh, Leon," she cried, " I forgot ! " " Forgot what, my darling? " he asked. will never give me to you," she said. " I for- THE BELLE OF LYNN. 29 got, my father has other plans for me ; he does not like Frenchmen," and she clung to him with tears in her eyes. He laughed merrily. To youth and love what matters fear? what the opposition of parents? what anything except their love ? " Never mind, my darling, I will soon win the liking of father and mother anything to gain you." " You must make them like you, before you ask them about me," she said, shyly. " I will I will be patient, indeed," cried the last of the Soldanas, to whom patience was an unknown virtue. " I will do all I can to make them like me ; I will go this evening on some pretext or other I know, I will ask your father if I may sketch the waters from the garden ; he will give me permission." " That he will," said Lima, " and he will give you some of his sparkling cider ! He will be very kind and civil to you, unless he should happen to think that you want me, and then the story will be different." " But why different, Lima ? I love you with all the strength and fervor of my heart ; I will work for you ; I will make you happy." " It is not that," she answered ; " my father has made up his mind exactly what kind of a husband I shall have. I am to marry what he calls a gentleman farmer, and it will take some time to turn him from his idea." " Then, Lima," said her handsome young lover, " I will tell you what our wisest plan will be ; we will keep our own secret ; we will say nothing of love or marriage until your parents have learned to like me." He never for one moment doubted that they would so learn. He could see no reason why he should not be liked. He was accustomed, after all, to think more of himself as the last of the Soldanas, the last of a gallant race, the representative of one of the oldest families of France ; he knew that side of his life best ; that any one should dislike him, or look down upon him because he was a penniless French teacher, did not seem so natural to him. It never once occurred to him that Lima's parents would object to him. On the contrary, the idea 30 THE BELLE OF LYNN. had crossed his mind that it was a great match for a simple country girl. After all, he was the Comte de Soldana. He would have laughed at the notion of the miller despising his birth, his descent, his title, his nation, and everything belonging to him. He would have laughed such a notion to scorn. Still he was so deeply in love with Lima, and so anx- ious to win her for his wife that he became diplomatic; he saw that he must make his advances gently. Before they parted they had made all arrangements; Leon was to make the acquaintance of the miller and his wife ; he was to call continually at the mill, on one pre- text or the other, until they would understand, and then he would ask them for Lima. " How shall I live through all those weeks of sus- pense ! " he cried. " Swear to me, Lima, that nothing shall change you, that nothing shall take you from me, nothing shall induce you to give me up. Promise me that you will love me truly and faithfully, and that you will love me alone so long as we both live." And she promised. How the promise was kept on her part and on his is what our story has to tell. " Remember," he said to her, " that a promise made over running water is doubly binding." " I shall remember," she replied, and she did so. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 31 CHAPTER VI. " I CANNOT quite understand it," said the miller. " I hate all Frenchmen with a true British hatred. I should not mind if there was a Waterloo every day." " But," interrupted his wife, " you must admit that there have been grand and noble men in France." " I admit nothing of the kind," he replied. " I con- sider hatred of the French as one of the upholders of the British constitution. You say that Napoleon called us a nation of shop-keepers ; I should call the French a nation of dancing-masters." " That is not fair," said his wife, quickly ; " they are more like a nation of soldiers." The miller laughed good-naturedly. " We will not quarrel about it," he said. " The whole French nation may do as it likes ; the thing which puz- zles me is why this young man comes here so often. He comes one day with a present for me, a dog a real St. Bernard. Wnat do I want with a Mount St. Bernard dog? Then he brings a canary, and yesterday I saw him with a great bunch of daphnes. What does it mean ? " But gentle Mrs. Derwent made no answer; she had her own fears as to what it meant ; fears for the young Frenchman, who was so handsome, so gallant, so kind, so chivalrous, that she could not help liking him, himself. Despite the miller's wonder at such a state of things, Leon had made his way. It was no unusual thing for him in the early morning to be seen in the meadows round the Mill of Allan, or rowing on the bright, deep waters ; then would come a cheery greeting to the miller, a greeting so warm, so genial, so kindly, that, despite his hatred of the French, he was compelled to return it. An invitation to join the breakfast would at times follow, always a keen source of delight to the young lover, for 32 THE BELLE OF LYNN." Lima presided, looking as beautiful, fresh, and blooming as a newly blown rose. Again at noon, when the college morning hours were over, Leon would find some pretext for calling at the mill. But noon was a busy hour, the miller was away with his men, and Mrs. Derwent was engaged in house- hold duties ; neither of them knew how often the little boat was moored under the big bay-window of Lima's room. During the long, beautiful summer evenings, when the eweet-scented hay lay in the meadows, and the hedges were a mass of brilliant bloom, how could one be surly ? When the miller met the handsome, gallant young fellow in the hay-fields or the lanes, or lingering by Allan Water, he could not decline speaking to him ; and so great was the frank charm of his manner, that even when the miller had resolved that he would not exchange twenty words with him, it would end in an invitation to supper and a glass of cider. That was before he began to understand matters, or entertain even so faint an idea as to why he came there. During those few weeks the lovers were on their guard. The mother saw more than the father did ; she saw the beautiful girl's face flush and pale ; she saw the trem- bling hands, she heeded the faltering voice, while the miller was blind and deaf to these signs. "Is that young man going to live here altogether?" he cried out one Sunday afternoon, when Leon had con- trived to elicit an invitation for tea from Mrs. Derwent. " I should think not," his wife answered, with a smile, but there was a sense of deadly fear at her heart. What could he, young, brave, and handsome, want there ? She. knew, but she dreaded to own the truth even to herself. It was a beautiful love story ; old as love stories are there was something fresh and novel about this. The surroundings were so beautiful, so fnll of poetry ; the young lover himself was so handsome and so princely; the girl he loved was so fair and graceful, and the love between them was deep and tender. THE BELLE OF LTNN. 31 "Were ever nights so fair as these on which he per- suaded her to go with him round the wear while the moon ahone on the waters ; and the boat would seem to atop of its own accord near the water-lilies; and there was no one to overhear the passion of his words, no one to see the loving caresses that he lavished upon her? The Soldanas had always been proficient in the art of love-making. Were ever mornings so bright as these on ,vhich he met her at sunrise, and they spent long bright hours amongst the flowers ? " Do you think I may speak now ? " was the young lover's constant cry. " Oh, Lima, I am so tired of wait- ing ! Your mother likes me, I know she does, and your father will like me in time, Lima ; I am sure he will. Oh, let me speak to him. You do not know what I suffer you do not know what a torture suspense is to me ! I sit in the same room with you, and I dare not come near you your beautiful face comes near me and 1 dare not kiss it ! Do you know how often I stretch out my hands with an unutterable longing to take you to my heart, and there is only the cold empty air. Oh, Lima, Lima ! let me speak ! " But she always made the same answer : " Not yet, Leon not just yet ; let my father grow more accustomed to you." " But," he would remonstrate, " unless I tell your father soon, he will find it out for himself ; he will begin to ask himself why I am always at the mill ; besides, if I do not tell him others will." " What others ? " she asked. He laughed a proud, happy laugh." " My darling Lima," he said, " there are very few 3ople who do not know how I worship the Belle of ynn, and I am proud of it. Let me speak, Lima. Your father cannot say nay to me; tell me why you are so afraid." " I do not like to tell you," she answered. " I am sure it will hurt you." " I am sure it will not, Lima ; tell me." " My father cannot endure Frenchmen. He will never Jet me marry yon, Leon, because of that." 34 THE BELLE OF LYHH. " I am English enough, sweet Lima, in my love for you," he said. " It is a prejudice on his part, and I shall be able to overcome it." He flung back his head with the air of a victorious young prince. What did the opinion and the prejudice of this English miller matter to the last of the Soldanas ? If he were in his own land, on his own domain, this man would be so greatly his inferior that there would be no communication between them. " We are so happy as we are," sighed the girl. " Do you know, Leon, that even the golden beauty of the summer seems to be part of our love ? Why should we seek for a change ? " " Because, my darling, the change will come whether we seek it or not. Let us be ready for it." " A few days," she pleaded ; " only a few days more, Leon " " And then you will consent, Lima ; you will make no more objections ? " " No," she replied, faintly ; " but, Leon, I am sore afraid ! " " You need not be ; you would not be if you knew how much I would dare to win you. I would swim over an ocean, I would cross a desert of sand, I would walk over read-hot plow-shares to reach you. Why need you fear ? " He drew her, with a passionate gesture, to his heart ; he kissed the beautiful face, on which a faint shadow of pain lay ; and Lima laid her arms round his neck. " Tell me why you fear BO much, my Lima ? I fear nothing." 44 We are so happy now," she whispered ; " and what should we do if my father refused his consent? " " He would never do anything of the kind," cried the ardent young lover. " Why should he ? Why should he refuse to give you to me because I am a Frenchman I Ah, Lima, there is no need to fear." " There is, and I do fear ; we are so happy now, Leon ; I see you every day, sometimes more often than that even let us be content." " But, my darling," he cried, passionately, " this state of things cannot last 1 It is not only that I love you, but THE BELLE OF LTHK. 35 I want to marry you ! I want you for my own ! I want a home, Lima, and you for its mistress. Do you not see and understand ? " " Yes," she whispered. " The end of all love is marriage," he continued. " I want you in my own home. I want you for my own. I cannot live without you." " We are so much together, Leon," she said. " But it is not the same thing. We will have a home in the trees, just as the birds build their nests. Oh, Lima, my heart grows warm when I think of it. A home, all our own, where you shall be mistress and queen, and I your loving lover." He thought but little of the ways and means, she even less ; it was all love love. " I shall always be your lover, Lima. I shall always love you just as I do now more, even, as the years pass on, but never less." She looked up into his face, a mist of tears dimming her lovely eyes. " I am so happy, Leon ; but if my father refused, what should we do ? " " He will not refuse, my darling." " But," she persisted, " what shall we do if he does ? " "Time enough to think of that emergency when it comes," he replied. " Let me ask him, I am quite sure all will come right." " I am quite as sure it will not," she said, sadly. " I have a presentiment over it." " Let me drive the presentiment away," he cried, kiss- ing the beautiful face until the smiles and the color came back to it. " That is a proper way to treat a presenti- ment. Have another, Lima, which requires the same treatment." She laughed. " But, Leon," she said, " if my father says no, then we shall not be able to see each other." He laughed. " My darling, if a line of burning mountains parted us I should scale them. Nothing will ever keep me from yon nothing could. Do you remember the lines you 36 THE BELLE OF LTNK. sung the other night, and they came floating across Allan Water?" " I do not remember," she said. "I do ; and I thought at the time how well they applied to you and to me, if there should be opposition. " ' My father he has locked the door, My mother keeps the key, But neither boltanorbars shall keep My own true love from me.' " Let me speak to him, Lima, and have no fear. There is no spot upon earth where you could be hidden that I could not find you, and there is no power on earth that shall keep me from you." So the words stand as he uttered them to this day. CHAPTER VII. NEVEB had the meadows yielded so much hay ; never had the corn stood so tall, straight, and golden ; never had the free and happy barley laughed more gayly in the sunshine; never had *h gardens bloomed with fairer flowers ; never had the orchards borne richer fruit. The miller, as he looked round him, felt his heart grow elated ; here was plenty. Plenty of golden grain, plenty of rich promise ; there would be more gold in the coffers he was filling for her, the daughter who was to him the very pride of his life : coffers that were filling fast, and all for her. This summer was so fine and so fair, it seemed as though every blade of grass must yield good profit. The miller was well content; the sun shone on his huge hay-stacks, on the rich harvest, on the mill that never rested, day or night, on the mill-stream, always flowing, and on Allan Water, stretching out far and wide ; he was well content. The day's work was over, the men had gone home, the birds were going to rest, the blue pigeons had gone to their oote, the sun was setting, and the rose-lights from THE BELLB OF LYNN. 37 the clouds lingered on the waters ; the air was soft and balmy. " I will not go in-doors," said the miller to his wife ; " I will have my glass of cider out here." " Out here," meant a beautiful little arbor covered with a wealth of climbing roses, standing under the shadow of the great limes, and looking over the broad expanse of Allan Water. An arbor that had been made purposely for the miller, where he could enjoy his pipe and his glass while he looked round on his possessions. Here on this sweet July night he went to sit and enjoy the sunset, to enjoy the sparkling cider and his own thoughts. They were proud and happy ones. He had been a fortunate man ; no one but himself knew the amount that was daily increasing for the dowery of his beautiful daughter. He was well content over her ; she was beautiful by nature ; he had given her the education of a lady, and he held a fortune in his hand for her. The very joy of his heart ! He meant her to marry an English gentleman. He was delighted to remember that Squire Leslie, of the Grange, had met him yesterday, and had spent fully five minutes in praising her, and had said there was not a more beautiful girl in England, and had very broadly hinted that he should be well pleased to visit the Mill of Allan. " That is what will happen," the miller said to him- self ; " some one worthy the name of an English gentle- man will see her, love her, and marry her. It may be the squire himself, and I could not wish any brighter lot for my darling than that. To be the wife of a man like the squire, and mistress of a home like the Grange ! She would not go to him empty-handed either, my beautiful Lima ! " A shadow fell where the rays of the setting sun had been shining brightly ; a fair, handsome head looked in through the trellis-work ; two eager, gray eyes scanned the miller's face. " May I come in ? " said Leon de Soldana. " I want to speak to you, Mr. Derwent, very particularly." This descendant of a fine old race had a deep, musical roice of his own, and there was in it a tone of command 38 THE BELLE OF LYNN. which came from the ancestors who had led troops to battle, and whose word had been law with men. The miller's ear was quick and keen enough to detect it, and his first impulse was to say : " No, I would rather be alone ; " but the face was so handsome and the manner so courtly they proved irre- sistible. " Yes, come in," said the miller, and the tall, shapely figure of the young Frenchman came out of the shadows the lime-trees cast, and stood by his side. There was a flush on the handsome face, and a light in the keen eyes that told a story. There was an expression of something like impatience on frhe fine features, and a nervous quiver on the mouth that had all a women's tenderness with a man's pride. He had said to himself, as he drew near the rose-covered arbor, that it was not in this fashion the lords of Soldana had been accustomed to woo ; they had not gone humbly cap in hand, to ask the gift of a daughter's hand. But he ! he would do anything to win this beautiful Lima for his own. He stood by the miller's side, not in the least degree afraid, but wondering how he could tell this practical, matter-of-fact looking man of the deep worship and love that filled his heart for his daughter. He would not have hesitated or quailed for one second before a regiment of foes with drawn swords ; he would have remembered the battle-cry of the Soldanas, and would have dashed ahead. But before the sturdy matter-of-fact British miller he sat silent, not knowing how to begin his story. " Well," said the miller, " you have something to say to me ? " " I ha\*e> and I find myself a coward for the first time in my life," answered Leon ; and the miller looked curi- ously at him. u I am sorry to hear that it does not look well for what yon are going to say. * Conscience makes cowards of us all.' " " It is not conscience in my case, but love," he replied, hotly. " I will tell you in a few words : I love your daughter I love her with all the force and passion oj THE BELLE OF LYNN. 3$ my heart, and I want you to give her to me to be my wife." Profound silence. The words on his lips seemed to die away. The only change in the miller was that his comely, ruddy face grew white and livid. " I love her," the young man went on, " as no one else ever could. She is the very sunlight of Heaven to me." He might have been warned by the tremor of passion that passed over the miller's face ; but he did not notice it ; he was intent on what he had to say. " Give her to me," he pleaded, " and I will Jove and serve her all my life. I will work for her, and make her the happiest wife in the world." Still silence that was more terrible than words, and the miller's anger gathered force as the moments rolled on. " I know," continued the young lover " that I am ask- ing much. I am asking you for th( greatest treasure you have in the world." Brave as he was, he started back in wondering terror when the miller turned his white, angry face to him, and cried, in a voice of thunder : " Hush ! If you value your life, do not say another word ! I I am not master of myself when I am angry ! I might commit murder" " Murder ! " cried the astonished young lover. " Surely you do not understand." " I understand only too well," he cried, hoarsely. " You dare ask me for my daughter ! " " I dare," he replied, " by right of my love for her. I love her ; my love is my excuse, if I need one." The great veins stood out red and swelled on th miller's forehead and on his clinched hands. " I am trying hard to control myself," he said, " but I am afraid." " Speak fairly to me ! " the young lover cried. " I have done you no harm, no injury; I have brought an honest, loving heart, and laid it at your daughter's feet ; surely that is no wrong." "No, it is no wrong," replied the miller, his voice trembling with passion " no wr ena. except that yon 40 THE BELLE OF LYNN. ought never to have dared to raise your eyes to her. Still, as you say you have done no wrong, I will be patieot. You ask for my daughter ; I answer ' no,' a thousand times ' no ; ' my daughter shall never be a wife of yours. No need to prolong the discussion, there is not another word to say. * No.' You hear my answer. Go ! " " I have a right to hear more," said the young lover. " Why do you send me away ; why do you refuse to give me the girl I love, and who loves me? " " Who what f " cried the miller. " Who loves me," repeated Leon. " That is my claim to your hearing : your daughter loves me as I love her." The very calm of passion, the white heat of anger came over the miller's face. " My daughter loves you f " he cried. " I refuse to believe it ! It is utterly impossible ! " " It is most perfectly true. I love her, and she lovei me. Why will you not give her to me 'i " " Give her to a penniless Frenchman ? No, I have not brought her up as a lady for such a fate as that. I love her : she is the very core of my heart ; but I would rather see her dead ah! drowned and dead there in Allan Water than give her to you." " Why ? " he asks, briefly. " First, because you are a Frenchman, and my daughter shall marry no dancing-master, no foreigner ; if she mar- ries at all, her husband shall be a stalwart Englishman." " I am as strong and fearless as any Englishman," said Leon de Sold an a. " Your strength has nothing to do with the matter. My daughter shall have an honest English gentleman for ner husband, not a Frenchman ; no, not even if he were a king." " I am not a king," said Leon gravely, " but I am as well-born as many a monarch who has sat upon a throne." u What ? " cried the miller, and it is no exaggeration to say that he roared rather than shouted. " It is true," said the young man, " my family is one of the oldest in France. My ancestors famght like heroes in the Crusades ; many a king has reigned less nobly bora THE BELLE OF LYNN. 41 than I. Poor as I am, much as you despise me, I who stand a suppliant before you am Leon, Count de Soldana." " A penniless count ! " cried the miller ; " you could not have said more to ruin yourself in my esteem. I hate all foreigners, I hate all aristocrats : a man with a title is odious in my sight. If any man can be more than a radi- cal, I am that man. And you think the paltry, empty title of count will please me. Let that pass ; count or no count you are a Frenchman that is reason enough for me. I would rather give my daughter in marriage to Hodge, th plowman, than to you. You are poor, and my beautiful Lima is not, you understand, to marry a poor man. I have brought her up as a lady those little white hands of hers shall never be stained with toil as her motner's have been. She shall marry a gentleman. I have saved a fortune for her. She is not for you. Go ! " But Leon de Soldana stood motionless, while the pas- sionate torrent of words ran on CHAPTER VIIL FINDING that his words produced no effect, the miller repeated them, but the young lover held his ground. " You have no right to let prejudice guide you," he said. " You are not just." " I am more than just, if that be possible," cried John Dervvent. " Do you think I have educated my daughter and worked hard to save a fortune for her in order tha-t she may marry a man who has no home, "no money, no prospects ? " " I shall make a home, and I have prospects," he an- swered, gravely. Do listen to me in patience, even if only for a few minutes. If you will give her to me, I will make a pretty home for her. There is a beautiful little cottage near Lynn, just what she likes, lying in the midst of the trees. I will take that and furnish it ; I can s:;ve money for that ; and then I will double my income by teaching French in the town of Lynn. I will work as man never worked before, if only you will give her to 4:2 THE BELLE OF LTNK. me; and we should be rich, because we should be happy." The scorn that deepened on the miller's face was wonderful to see. " No," he replied ; " there is no prayer you could make, there is nothing you could say or do which could for one moment induce me to consent. My daughter shall never be your wife do not let me hear another word of it. It can never be ! " The young lover raised his head gallantly. " I do not see that you have the right to make your own daughter miserable for life just because she is your daughter ! " " I have a right to do what 1 like with my own," said the miller, doggedly. " You have no right to make any one miserable, whether they belong to you or not," said Leon. " Now," said the miller, " I have heard enough. From this moment you may give up all thoughts of my daugh- ter, and yon must not come near my house again ! " " You seem to think little enough of the pain you will give your daughter," said Leon, bitterly. " She will not suffer much pain if sne has the spirit I give her credit for. Does she know the foolish errand on which you have sought me ? " " Yes," was the brief reply. " I do not believe it ! " cried the miller, fiercely. " She knows me and my opinions too well to think that I should give my consent to her marriage with a penniless foreigner, a man with an empty title, forsooth! She knows me too well for that. Now, you go; keep to your teaching, and leave love-making alone. Since you do not seem inclined to leave me, I will go into the house, where I do not ask you to follow me. Good- might." Without another word the miller went away, leaving the young lover with bitter desolation in his heart, bitter anger against this homely matter-of-fact man who had scoffed at his ancestors, laughed at his title, and refused him his daughter. It was not thus that the Soldanas had been treated when they went forth to woo. THE BELLE OP LYNN. 43 " I will have her," he said to himself ; u she loves me, and I will have her, in spite of all." And he sung the lines : " ' My father he has locked the door, My mother keeps the key ; But neither boltsnorlocks shall keep My own true love from me.' " Nothing shall keep me from her I shall win her in spite of all opposition, in spite of all obstacles. I would win her from the very arms of death." But it was in vain that evening that he lingered round the banks of Allan Water ; there was no gleam of a blue dress, no bright sheen of golden hair, n lovely young face flushed with delight at meeting him. When night fell he unfastened the boat and rowed across Allan Water ; but there was no light in the win- dow, no sound of sweet music floating over the waters. All was silent ; even the very winds were cold and still. There was, for the first time, the sound of angry words in the Mill of Allan. The miller had gone home angry and ill-content; nothing could have been more annoying, more irritating to him than this. If one of his own plow- men had fallen in love with his daughter, and had asked her hand in marriage, he would not have been one half so angry. A penniless Frenchman, a teacher in a school, a man with a title that was not worth a shilling nothing could have been worse! And for him to say that his beautiful Lima loved him ! More and more angry grew the miller. Why, what would Squire Leslie say if he heard this ? The Belle of Lynn to marry a poor teacher, who had neither home nor money ! she who had been brought up a lady, and was to have a fortune. He went into the pretty parlor that night with a frown on his face for the first time. The windows of the room did not look over Allan Water, but on to the beautiful flower-garden. There, in the garden, he saw his wife, who was busy tying up some carnations, and his daugh- ter, who was standing with her face turned to the west, wondering why her lover had not returned to her, and why there was no sign of him near Allan Mill That 44 THE BILLB OF LYKK, beautiful girl to marry a penniless Frenchman ! Never while the sun shone, and he lived to prevent it ! He opened the glass door that led to the garden. " Helen," he cried to his wife, " I want to speak to you!" He saw his daughter start at the unusual sound of anger in his voice. She came forward with rapid steps. " I want you both," said the miller. " I have been vexed and angrp ; but I will try to be calm while I tell you. Helen Lima, my darling, that young Frenchman has been here, and has dared to ask me if he may marry you ! " " Oh, father ! " cried the girl, hiding her blushing face in her hands. " Can you believe it ? " cried the miller, fuming with rage " a teacher, a Frenchman, a man without a shilling, and boasting of an empty title to boot! Oh, my darling," he added, with a sudden outburst of tenderness, as ne clasped her to his breast " my darling, I did not make you a lady for this! I have sent him away, and told him that he is never to come here again." A low wail of pain came from the girl's lips ; but he was too excited to hear it. " There will be no repetition of the nonsense, for I have told him he is never to cross the threshold of my door again." Then the pale face looked wistfully at him, and a voice from which all the music had died, said : " Father, do not say that ; you will kill me if you say that for I love him." He clasped her with fierce passion to his breast. " Nay, my darling, you will not die ; you will soon for- fet him ; he is not half good enough for you. We will nd an English husband for my Lima." She shrunk from him, pale and scared. " I do not want any one else. Ah, father ! do you not understand ? I love him ; and I love him all the more because he is very poor and friendless, and is an exile from his own land ! " "Nonsense." said the miller, brusquely. "It shows THE BELLE OF LYNN. 45 what his native land thinks of him when he is sent away from it." "Nay, father, that is not like you it is not just!" cried the girl. " His poverty and exile are his misfor- tune, not his fault." " All right, my dear," said the miller, impatiently, " we need not say any more about him ; we have done with him now." " Father," she interrupted, " you cannot put out all the sunshine of my life in this fashion you cannot mean what you say ! You have always been so kind to me no father was ever so kind to a daughter as you have been to me you will not break my heart or make me miserable for life. Do you remember, when I was quite a little girl and wanted anything you taught me always to come to you ! You have never refused me one wish you have never been unkind to me in all my life ; surely you will not begin now ! " " I would not hurt one hair of your dear head, my lady lassie," said the miller. " You are young and have no experience. I shall prevent you from throwing yourself away on a young fellow who has nothing to recommend him except a handsome face. You must not do that. You have been brought up a lady, and you will have a good fortune ; I have worked hard for it, and I have saved it for you. You must marry an English gentleman." " Father," said the girl, while the tears ran down her face, " do not break my heart. Let me marry the man I love." " You will be all right, my dear ; you need not break your heart," he went on, with rough tenderness ; " your mother must take you out a little. You shall go to the sea-side anything to cheer you. I could curse the man," he cried, with sudden ferocity, " when I see the tears on your face." She snrunk from him, more pale and scared than before. " Do not say such terrible things," she cried ; but an expression of great resolution had come over the miller's face. " Let us make an end of this, Lima," he said, " J 46 THE BELLE OF LTNH. would not refuse you anything else in tbe wide world, *nd I will make your life as happy as life can be, but we must have no more of this. Listen to me : I will never give my consent to this marriage never, and I have for- bidden the young man ever to come here again. Take care, you, Helen, my wife, and you, Lima, my daughter, that he is never seen here." " Oh, father, be pitiful to me," she cried. " I cannot bear it." " You must choose, my darling, between him and me," said the miller, and his voice was hoarse with emotion ; " between him and me, my lady lassie. I am the father who loves you, nursed you, guided your little footsteps, taught your little lips to pray, who has worked for you. I went without many a thing that the money might be put aside for you. You have only known this young man a few weeks ; will you give me up for him ? " " No," she cried, clinging to him, with sobs and tears. " You know I could never give you up, father." " But, my darling, it lies between us ; you must give up your father, or the man whom you consider your lover." " How can I tear my heart in twain ? " she cried. " Better to cry a little now than to cry much more in the years to come," said the miller. " Here, wife, come and console her ; but remember there is to be no more of this the young man is never to be seen here again." And the girl flung herself, weeping, on her mother's breast, while the miller left the room without another word. 1BLLE Of LTJW. 47 CHAPTER IX. l>UEnro the first few minutes that the mother was left with her child she said nothing, but smoothed the golden hair with a loving hand, then she kissed the beautiful, tear-stained face. " Do not cry so bitterly, Lima tell me about it ; I wish I had known, I should have warned you ; yet I had my fears. Do you love him so very much, child ? " " I love him with all my heart, mother," was the an wer given, with bitter sighs and tears. "But, my dear, you know so little of him he is a tranger to you." " Ah, no ; he has never seemed like a stranger. You will not be angry with me. mother, if I tell you ! " " I could not be angry with you, my dear, for this," said the gentle mother, with a loving memory of the days when the miller had wooed her, and she had though* herself the happiest girl in the wide world. " Do you remember, mother," she said, " that after- noon when Mrs. Grey came over to talk to you about him about his coming to the farm? I had never seen him then, but I thought so much of him, and I heard how handsome and kind and brave he was. It seemed to me that he was quite different from other men. I thought so much about him and I had not seen him then." The beautiful face grew crimson, and the fair head drooped. " I know I ought to be ashamed of it," she said, " but I could not help it ; after I had seen him and spoken to him, I am afraid I thought of nothing else. I loved him go much. I wonder if the same thing comes to other girls. After I had spoken to him he seemed to be part of myself part of my life and I could not tell how it was. I saw his face everywhere ; whether I was walking or sleeping, thinking or dreaming, there it was, the beau- tiful gray eyes looking into mine. I cannot describe it, 8 THK BELLK OF LTMf. but love of him seemed to enter into everything ; it in the sunshine, in the bloom and perfume of the flowers, it was even in the shining light that lies on Allan "Water. All my life that lay behind me seemed to be nothing ; there was nothing in it. Oh, I know it was all wrong or strange, but I seemed only to have begun life from the hour in which I first saw him. You see, mother," she ylded, with the calm of desperation, " I could not give lim up. It would be like tearing my very heart in twain. I could not do it." " But, my dear, if your father wills that it shall be so, you must." " Ah, no no. I did not make the love to live in my heart, nor can I drive it away. I cannot kill it. I want- ed to tell you, mother, but I was afraid. I thought it would be better to wait until you knew more of him. It is for that reason he has been here so often, that you might learn to love him. You cannot help it, mothe* It seems to me that every creature who looks upon his face must love him." " My dear Lima, if it were so, your father would like him," said the kindly woman. "Nothing could take him from my life,*" she con- tinued, stretching out her tender, white arms. " If he is many hours away, the light goes from the sun I count the minutes ; I say to myself, ' He will be here at noon/ I wait until noon comes ; but if the noon stretched out into weeks, and he never came, I should die I should die of the blank cold and desolation. When night falls T pay to myself, ' He will come with the morning light.' When morning has been and gone, I long for the setting f the sun ; I know he will come then. Why, mother," she continued, raising her fair face, all flushed and tear- stained, " what should I do with my life if he went out of it ? What could I do but die ? " " You should not have let yourself love him so much, Lima." " How could I help it ? The love came to me unasked, unawares. I loved him before I knew his name, or any- thing much about him, and I shall love him until I die ! .Mother, you understand you loved my father. You THE BELLE OF LYNN. 4:9 understand my heart beats when I hear his name ; my hands tremble, and my face burns when he speaks to me ! Oh, mother ! " she continued, with a passionate burst of tears, " do you not see that my heart has gone from me, and clings to him ? You must not let him be sent from me. I shall droop and die. Speak for me and plead for me ! " But the miller's wife knew him better than his daugh ter did. She knew that if his mind was once made up to any course of action nothing ever moved or changed him, nothing altered his opinion ; he was firm as a rock ; and she knew perfectly well that he would never consent to his daughter's marriage with the Frenchman ; dearly as he loved her, he would not give his consent to save her life. What could she do or say to this fair young daughter of hers, whose whole heart had gone out to the stranger ? How could she comfort or console her ? " You must plead for me," the girl continued. " I am young, I know, and you may think that in time I could forget him. Ah, no! If I live to be ever so old I should never love or care for any one else ! He is my first he will be my last and only love! Oh, mother, make my father understand that make him see it ! " " I will do my best," said Mrs. Derwent. " Now go to rest, my dear." " Have you nothing to say to comfort me ? " she cried. " Have you no word ? What shall I do when the dark to-morrow dawns, and does not bring him to me ? What 'shall I do ? " " Have patience, my dear ; patience conquers all things." "Patience will not give me back my love, if my father will not let him come, she cried. " Oh, mother, I hav never lain awake and cried all night before, but I shall to-night ; last night I dreamed that I was with him, and we were rowing on Allan Water ; how will the long dark hours pass? And to-morrow he will not come. I did not know that my father could be so cruel," 50 THE BELLE OF LYNN. "He means it all in kindness," said the anxious mother. " He will break my heart; how can that be true kind- ness to me? My father thinks more of money than money's worth. My lover is a gentleman a nobleman, but because he has no money, my father, does not like him. Money cannot buy happiness or love." " It is not altogether a question of money," interrupted Mrs. Derwent ; " you know how much your father lias always disliked foreigners, above all, Frenchmen. You know how he has lived for you, Lima ; he would have you educated, he has deprived himself of everything he liked best, in order that you might have a fortune, and his very heart is fixed on marrying you to an English gentleman. Do you not see what a terrible disappoint- ment it would be to him 2 " " But how much worse, oh, mother, think how much worse for me. My father would soon forget, and when he saw me happy, he would be happy, while I oh, how can he be so cruel to me ? " She fell on her knees in a Eassion of tears, so bitter, so unavailing, that the mother's eart ached. " Do be patient my dear ! " she said. " Oh, mother," cried the girl, " you may as well take the sunshine from the flowers and bid them live." Long after the busy mill had ceased, and the water lay still ; long after the moon had risen and the stars were shining bright, the miller's wife lay wide awake listening to that faint sobbing, which was the most terrible sound she had ever heard. Laughter and smiles, bright words, the gleam of happiness, had always been associated in her mind with her daughter ; she could not endure this sound of bitter wailing and tears. Once the miller woke when the sound of that bitter weeping and bitter sighs seemed to pervade the quiet house ; and when his wife told him the sound he heard was his daughter weeping, he grew angry and denied it. It was the wind wailing over the water, he said. And when she begged him not to be hard on this their only child, for that she was fragile and tender of heart, he laughed hoarsely and answered that he knew what was THE BELLE OF LYNN. 51 best for her; his beautiful Lima should never be given to a penniless Frenchman ; he would see the whole French nation sunk under the Red Sea first ; his beauti- ful Lima should marry an English gentleman ; a few tears would not kill her. And when the mother, weep- ing, said : " She has never had to weep before," he answered, that it was the law of nature that women should weep. " What does her own song say ? " he quoted ; " ' Men must work and women must weep.' If she weeps now, wife, she will shed no tears afterward. If I let her marry this Frenchman, her tears will never stop. I know what is best for her, Helen. She will be all right in a few days, and then you will be glad that I did as I am doing." All the same he did not like to hear the sound of weeping and wailing, and the next morning Lima was ill. There was a dreadful blank at the usually cheerful breakfast-table. No beautiful face, no bright eyes, no sweet voice; the sunlight itself was not more missed than she was, but the miller would not yield one inch. " Headache ? It would be far better for her to get up and go out into the fresh air." But when, some hours afterwards, he met her as she was walking down to Allan Water, he saw that even the fresh morning air had brought no color to her pale face, no light to her dim eyes. How little he understood the desolation that filled her heart. There was Allan Water laughing in the sunlight, but where was he, the hand- some young lover, with the loving eyes and sweet, caress- ing words? What was all the lovelines on earth without him? The miller went to her and kissed her. He found her hands and face cold as death. " Have a good, brisk walk, my darling," he said : " it will bring the roses back to your face." But she sighed as she went along the well-known ways without him. Alas ! without him there was no beauty even on the banks of Allan Water. 52 THE BELLE OF LTKH. CHAPTER X. A QUIET shadow seemed to have fallen over the mill ; the light seemed to have passed from life ; there was no Bound of music or laughter, no bright voices, no songs ; all seemed quiet, grave, and strange. Lima made no complaint; she looked tired, pale, and languid, but after a few days she fell into the usual routine ; she helped her mother, wrote her father's letters, she took up her books, and more than once in the evening, when the miller asked her for music, she sung, but never the favor- ite ballad of Allan Water. The spirit and life seemed to have left her ; she cared no more for the rambles in the woods, she went no more in the clover meadows and freen lanes, she never sought the banks of Allan Water, t seemed to her that if she went out and met him sud- denly she should fall down dead. In vain the sunshine wooed her, in vain the beautiful water rippled and gleam- ed, in vain did rose and lily bloom and birds sing ; she shut herself in her room and tried hard to obey her father she tried to forget Leon. She might as well have tried to stem the mountain torrents when the wind forces them ; the more she tried to forget him the more deeply she loved him. She grew more and more miser- able, the color faded from her beautiful face, and her eyes grew dim. Mrs. Derwent was very unhappy over her ; more than once she drew the miller's attention to his daughter. " The girl is fading," she said. " Oh, John, relent or we may lose her, and then ! " " It would be better to lose her by death," said John Derwent, " than to give her to that Frenchman ; besides, she will not die. Do you remember the old lines : * Men have died, and worms have eaten them, But not for love.' She will not die ; many a girl loses the color and light THE BELLK OF LYNN. 53 from her face, but they come back again. It is better for her to suffer a little now than more later on." But the time came when he himself felt anxious about her. She had only been three weeks parted from her lover, and she was already but the shadow of her former self. Never was struggle more desperate in the heart of any girl. She loved her father sne had no wish to disobey him ; she was grateful to him, and wished to please him ; she oould not endure to pain or vex him ; she could not bear even to see the brightness of his face dimmed. On the other hand, she loved her young lover with all her heart; she had given to him the love of her life her heart had gone from her and clung to him. She did not care to live unless her life were spent with him. She knew that if she sent one line to him, if she met him, if she exchanged one word with him, it would be all over with her ; while she remained shut away from him she could obey her father ; once with him, she did not think it possible. So the struggle in her mind was a terrible one. It was the old story of duty and love. There were times when duty seemed to win the day when she tried her best to forget the sweetness of her love story, when she prayed Heaven to help her to forget her lover, when she clung to her father with fondest affection, and the miller's face would brighten, and he would congratulate himself that all had succeeded as he prophesied. Then the reaction would come, and love would overpower duty ; there would be days of bitter tears and sighs, nights without sleep, hours that seemed like endless days, and days that seemed like endless weeks when she could not bear the light of the sun, the song of the birds, or the fragrance of the flowers when she could not bear that her eyes should rest on the beautiful stretch of waters, and she longed for nothing but the rest and the silence of death. For love is the strongest and most terrible passion that ever takes hold of the human heart the most powerful, the most to be dreaded, yet the most to be desired and love had taken full possession of the girl's heart. *>4 THE BELLE OF LYNN. Yet she fought her fight. There came a night when the August moon shone brightly on Allan Water, and she heard so plainly the dipping of the oars in the stream, and she knew, as though she had seen him, that her lover was under the window, waiting and longing to see her. She had but to draw aside the hangings, to open the window, and then all the bliss of a regained JParadise would be hers. She knew how the handsome face would be raised to the window ; how the longing, wistful eyes would watch for her shadow ; how he would listen to the faintest sound that gave token of her presence ; how great the temptation was how great the struggle. At one moment she felt that she must go ; she must open the window and spring down to him, and he could row her over the water, away where the water lilies slept, away in fairy-land. Nothing stood between her and that glimpse of intense happiness, seeing and speaking to her lover, but her sense of duty and her conscience. Conscience forbade her to draw up the blinds and open the window, to look down on the upraised face of her lover, beautiful as a dream in the moonlight, to spend a few moments with the young lover who loved her so dearly. Conscience was the winner. She would not go because her father had forbidden her to see him again. Conscience was the winner ; but at what a price ! A night of bitter regret and passionate tears a day of languor and misery. She looked out on the broad sheet of water when morning rose, and she saw that her lover had left a great heap of floating water-lilies under her window, so at least she might know he had been there. The passionate regret seized her; how cruel she had been not to go near him, not to look at him, not to speak to him ; a passionate cry of sorrow broke from her. It was hard for any one to live in such a struggle. She made one last and desperate appeal to her father, but he would not listen. " A little more patience," he said, " and you will have forgotten him. You will see the truth of my words some day. If 1 were willing if I gave my consent to your THE BELLE OF LYNN. 55 marriage to-morrow, you would repent it with your whole heart in a few months. When you grow older and know more, you will know that no English father would care to give his beloved child to a French noble if he be a noble which I doubt very much, after all. You will find out later on how true my words are." No prayer that she could pray, no tears, no passion or grief or pain could move him, no words soften him, no persuasions induce him to change his opinions. It was banishment from her lover and life without him. She made no more appeals, she saw and understood that her father would be firm at any cost. She marvelled much, poor child, that life should have taken so strange a turn for her; that all its freshness, brightness, and hope should have died so suddenly ; why that ons dream of beauty and sweetness, almost divine, should lhave been given her to die in such a short time. Hundreds of girls before her, and hundreds since have had the same struggle between duty and love, between father and lover ; perhaps none have felt it more keenly or suffered so much from it. By this time Lima's sad, sweet love story was known ; the sympathy of the young was with the girl and her lover, the sympathy of the old with the miller. The story was discussed in many of the humble households arounj Lynn, and there was much wonder how it would end whether the miller would yield, whether the young Frenchman would grow tired of his ardent pursuit and go away, or whether time would lessen the girl's love and another lover prevail. There came a calm, bright Sunday morning when the warm languor of heat seemed to lie over the land, throbbed in the blue ether, and trembled in the golden haze on the banks of Allan Water, and even by the mill, the sound of the chiming of the church bells at Lynn was heard. The miller listened attentively. " That is a sure sign of settled fair weather," he said, " when we can hear the bells from Lynn." He would have obeyed their summons and have gone to church but that some of the machinery of the mill ha4 56 THE BELLE OF LYNN. gone wrong, and he was afraid to leave it. Mrs. Derwent was not well, and when the Lynn bells rang out their solemn peal there was no one at the mill to respond to it but Lima. " Go to church, Lima," said the miller, looking at the girl's pale face ; " the walk over the fields will do you good/ She had just been wondering what she should do dur ing the whole of that long, golden day ; how she should get through the hours that would not be brightened by one glimpse of her lover long hours, while the sun would ride nigh in the heavens, and the earth droop under its burning rays. " I will go to church, father," she said ; and then one of the prettiest sights seen that summer was the miller's lovely daughter as she tripped through the green mead- ows, prayer-book in hand. The light footsteps that did not crush the flowers in the grass; the beautiful face, almost more lovely in its pallor and sadness than in the flush of health ; the slender, girlish figure in the drees of pure white. No fairer picture could be seen. Perhaps the birds of the air hastened to tell her lover that she was there ; no sooner had she crossed the clover meadow and gone into the green lane that led to Lynn than a sudden burst of glorious sunshine came over her, and she was looking once more into the face she loved so well THE BELLE OF LYNN. 57 CHAPTER XI. SHE had no time to think whether it was right or wrong, no time to listen to the voice of conscience or duty. She remembered in that moment nothing in the wide world except that he was there, his handsome face smiling into her own, his eyes so frank and fearless looking into hers. He had clasped her hands in his, and the whole earth was brightened and gladdened by his presence. " My darling," he cried, in a rapture of delight never mind that it was Sunday, when every one is expected to behave with extra decorum ; never mind that, although it was a deep shady lane, other people might see them he drew her to his heart and kissed her in a passion of love and pain ; " my darling, my eyes were growing blind from want of seeing you. Now that I have you I cannot let you go ! Speak one word to me say that you are pleased to see me." There was no need for words, as he saw when she looked at him ; and then he was struck by the change in her ; her face seemed to him lovelier than ever ; there was a pathos in its beauty which was perhaps even more attractive than its brightness had been. " Why, Lima," he cried, " how ill you look ; how thin and pale you are ! What has stolen the roses from your face and the light from your eyes ? " He kissed the pale face and the white eyelids; he seemed beside himself in this great joy of meeting her, while she stood pale and silent. " I am so glad so delighted ! " he cried, almost inco- herently. " I thought the time never would come. I have longed to see you. Providence or fate which is it, Lima ? is kinder than your father. There has been some little pity for us. Oh, Lima, do not leave me again ! " The soft chiming of the bells at Lynn came to them with the sweet song of the birds, and the sweet odor of the flowers ; a soft, sweet chime that floated over the 58 THE BELLE OF LYNN. It seemed to the girl that a sudden burst of golden sun- light had fallen over her, and she was dazed by its brightness. It was like going from darkness and cold into sunshine and warmth, and in the bewilderment of her happiness she forgot all about the wrong. Slowly the color was returning to her beautiful face, slowly the light of love and happiness was coming back to her eyes. With a sigh of unutterable content she seemed to recognize the fact that she was with him ; with a low cry that was half love, half pain, she laid her arms round his neck and hid her face on his breast. " Oh, Leon," she said, gently, " I should like to die here. I would rather a hundred times over die here with your arms round me, than go back to the life which is so terrible without you. I have not complained ; I have said nothing ; but my heart is breaking." " You need never go back to it, Lima," he said. " Why should we both be miserable ? I have been thinking it over, and it seems to me unreasonable ; why should both our lives be spoiled because your father does not like Frenchmen ? It is absurd. You love me, and I love you ; I want you to be my wife, and you are quite willing; why should we both be made miserable for life?' p "My father has the power to forbid our marriage," she said. " Nothing of the kind. I know that parents have cer- tain rights over their children, but they cannot be pushed too far. No father has a right to say to his daughter that she shall marry this one and shall not marry another But she interrupted .Mm. " Oh, yes, Leon, a father has that right," she said. " I do not believe it," he cried. " No one has, or ought to have, the power of forbidding those who love, to marry." He uttered the words clearly and distinctly ; in the after-days they returned as so many stabs from a sharp sword, and wounded him. " This is my belief," he said, " that while children are children they owe implicit obedience to their parents, THE BELLE OF LYNN. 59 ami ought to render it it is the law of Heaven and of man but when the child is grown into man or woman, and wishes to marry the object beloved, then do I not acknowledge the right of parents to interfere." Lima was silent for a few minutes, little dreaming how in the after years these words would be recalled to her. Then she said, slowly : " I cannot think that, Leon. I should not like to marry unless my father gave his consent. I do not think I would dare marry if he actually forbade me to do so. It seems to me that such a marriage would never carry with it a blessing." Sweetly, softly, over the trees came the chiming of the bells at Lynn ; the birds sung sweetly under the shelter of green boughs. Suddenly Lima looked up at him. " Leon, I must go," she said. " My father sent me to church, and the bells will soon cease ringing. I must go." But he drew her nearer to him. " Not while I have arms to hold you, sweetheart. That would be flying in the very face of fate. Here we are in the midst of the bright sunshine, brought together after dreary weeks of absence and misery brought to- gether by fate and most happy fortune and then you want to go ! Ah, no, sweetheart ! let the bells chime and the birds sing, but you will stay here. I shall make a prison of my arms, and keep you in it." " But," she cried, in deep distress, " it would not be right, Leon ; my mother told me to go to church, and I must go. It would be wrong for me to spend this morn- ing here with you." "Just a little wrong, but think how very delightful. Be fair, Lima. You have given how many weeks to your father, and you must not refuse two hours to me two hours out here in the .sunlight? We will go to tho clover meadow, and sit under the shade of the lime-trees, where we can see Allan Water. Oh, my sweetheart, my love, give me this gleam of happiness ! " " But, Leon," she said, half yielding the while, " the very bells seem to be chiming * Come to church come to churcli ! ' " "And the birds are singing 'Stay here stay here !' 60 THE BELLE OF LYNN. Come, Lima, my sweetheart. Fate has been kind to us this morning ; do not let us fly in her face, or she may never be so kind again." Still she drew back, and did not touch the hand he extended to her. "Leon," she said, gravely, "if I do this if I stay away from church and spend the morning out in the fields with you, it will be the first time in my life that I have deliberately and wilfully done wrong." " As I said, darling, it will be just a little wrong, but most delightful," he replied. " We will not stop to talk about it ; let us take the goods that fortune has offered us. I want to talk to you ; I want to persuade you to do something that will make me very happy." The woman who hesitates is lost. Lima hesitated. The bells chimed " Come ; " the birds sang " Stay ; " duty said " Go ; " love said " No ; " but Leon settled the matter when he said : " If you will be cruel if you will leave me, there is but one alternative, I shall go with you, and then then you will see. Come with me, sweet; let us enjoy the hour that fortune has given us." The next minute she had turned her beautiful face to the clover meadows; a green bank ran under the tall lime-trees, a bank that was covered with wild flowers and meadow-sweet ; the broad, beautiful stretch of Allan "Water lay before them ; but they could not see the mill, it was hidden from them by the great green trees. He found the prettiest nook for her, and she sat down amongst the tall blossoms of the meadow-sweet ; he flung himself by her side, while the sun shone on and the waters rippled slowly by. " Now I can understand," he said to her, " what the Garden of Paradise was like. Oh, Lima, you must not leave me again. I feel like one who has been dead, and has come back to life. No one has the power to part us ; no one can, for love has the strongest chain, and the strongest rights, and I want yon, my beautiful sweetheart, to listen to me; why need we be miserable any longer; why skould we not be married aud happy? My days THE BELLB OF LYNN. 61 are one longing for you, and you are no less miserable yourself. Why should it be ? An old saying is that " a little chink lets in great light ; " it is equally true that the least deviation from the strict path of duty entails the gravest consequences. If beautiful Lima Derwent had obeyed the voice of her conscience, had obeyed the voice of the bells that rang out " Come to church," in all probability the great tragedy of her life would have been averted. She might in time have forgotten this ardent, passionate love of her youth ; but she was deaf to those two voices, and heard only that of her lover, which said " Come." " Lima," he pleaded, and every sweet voice in nature pleaded with him " Lima, do not let us sacrifice our youth our love our happiness ! We have but one life ; let us enjoy it, and we cannot enjoy it apart. Be my wife at once ! If we wait until your father consents, we may wait until our hair turns gray. Be my wife! I would not persuade you to do anything wrong, sweet Lima ; but why should we spend our lives in misery when we might be so happy ? Look at the birds, how happy they are look at the flowers, how happy they are, too ! In this world so full of brightness, and beauty, and love, why should we two sit apart, wretched and forlorn, parted in eternal sorrow and in eternal tears? Why should we ? " And she listened to him, her beautiful face drooping shyly from him, but gradually believing all he said to be true. " My darling," he said at last, " let me plead to you in the old lines we both love so well ; they might have been written for us : " ' My father he has locked the door, My mother keeps the key ; But neither bolts or locks shall keep My own true love from me.' Oh ! my true love and dear love, listen to me, and to me only ; let nothing part us but death, and may Heaven keep death far from us. Say you will be my wife ? " There was a word whispered over the meadow-sweet, and then the tragedy of a life began. 62 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER XII. ONE o'clock at the mill, and no Lima appeared. The dinner-table was set. The miller went restlessly from room to room ; his wife sat at the window watching with anxious eyes the fields through which she should pass. The bells of Lynn had long ceased chiming, the air was warm and still, the flowers bent their heads as though heavy with the heat, the birds were silent in the sultry languor of the mid-day sun. No Lima. The shadows were lengthening, and the mother's watching grew more and more unhappy. Where was she, and what had happened? Was she ill and unable to come home? Should she go in search of her ? Ah ! there, where the sunbeams fall brightly, was the gleam of a white dress between the trees ; that was Lima, and a sensation of relict came to the mother's heart at the sight of her. She hastened to the garden to meet her, to ask her why she had been so long absent where she had wandered. But when she gazed into her daugh- ter's face she saw that all was changed ; this was quite another girl than the one who had left home a few hours* ago. This girl had a light in her eyes which seemed aa though it could never fade. There was a lovely flush out her face, and her lips were like crimson flowers ; she was transfigured, and the mother thought nothing more beau- tiful had ever been seen than this radiant maiden with the love-lit eyes. " Mother," she said, gently, and her voice had in it a faint ring of music and gladness " mother," she repeat- ed, " am I late ? " "Very late, my darling, and we have been very anx- ious over you. Where have you been f " In one moment all flashed before her. Where had she been ? Her hands were still warm with her lover's clasp, her heart was still beating with the sound of her lover's THE BELLE OP LYNN. 63 words, her pulse throbbing with the delight of his pres- ence ; and suddenly she remembered all that this wag the lover whom she had been forbidden to see. Deeper and deeper grew the crimson on the beautiful face, and then the miller joined the little group. They were stand- ing outside the porch, where the white, starry jasmine was all in bloom a group that contained in itself all the elements of a simple tragedy. The father stern and un- flinching, the mother tearful and suppliant, the daughter blushing, half trembling with fear, yet strong in her determination to be true to her lover and to her love. " You are late, Lima," said her father. Do what she could, she could not throw off those signs of delight that she had seen him, spoken to him, that he had caressed her and worshipped her, and asked her over and over again to be his wife. It was all told, all written in the face that only a few hours since was pale with misery and shadowed with grief. Father and daughter stood face to face the father who had loved his child so well, and the child who, until now, had known no wish but his. The father, stern and unyielding ; the daughter, ready to encounter anything now for her lover's sake. " Yes," said the miller, looking fixedly at her. " Yes, you are late, and you have not been to church. Mrs. Grey went home an hour ago ; she had been there, but she told me she had not seen you. Where have you been f " His eyes, bright with anger, were fixed on her face, and seemed to read her very soul. " Where have you been? You left home pale, sorrowful, your head Dent; I watched you walking through the fields; you come back bright, erect, radiant, your own old self. W hat has changed you? Where have you been ? " She must either tell the truth or a direct lie, and she, sweet, simple, loving soul, had never told a wilful lie in her whole life ; she shrunk from it now, she could not do it. It might have saved her ; but she would not be saved at the price ; she could not stoop to a lie. Yet a spasm of fear came over her when she saw the miller's angry eyes ; never had they looked at her with that expression before. 64 THE BELLE OF LYNN. " "Where have you been ? " he repeated, in a voice of thunder ; then her natural courage came to the rescue. " Do not ask me, father," she answered. " I do not want to tell you ; you will only be angry and vexed." " I will know," he cried. " Tell me at once. "Where have you been, and with whom have you been ? " " I have been on the banks of the water," she answer- ed, slowly. " "With whom ? " he cried, and his voice rang out full of anger and wrath. " "With Leon, father," she replied, and then a blank terrible silence fell over them. It seemed to the kindly mother that life itself must fall now that these two so dearly beloved were at variance. " And you dare to tell me that ! " cried the miller. " I forbade you to see him again I forbade you to speak to him. I said that he was never to cross this threshold again, and yet you have spent more than two hours with him when you ought to have been at church. "What have you to say for yourself ? " " That I could not help myself, father that I did not go out to meet him ; it was quite by accident. And you you could not be cross with me if you knew. It seemed to me that the very gates of Heaven opened to me when I saw his face. He asked me to go down to Allan Water with him. I forgot everything in the wide world except the delight of being with him, and I went." " She loves him so dearly, John," murmured the anx- ious mother ; but the miller turned quickly to her. " Do not interrupt me," he said, angrily. " I have a right to expect and extort obedience from my own child." " I give it to you, father," she cried, " lovingly, will- ingly, in every instance except this. Do not stand between me and the sunshine of my life. Oh, father, father ! " she cried, breaking into passionate tears and sobs, " kill me rather than take me from him." " You have but to choose between him and me," said the miller. " Give up your lover or give up your father. There is no alternative." " I cannot 1 " she cried, " for I love both. Oh, mother, speak for me speak ! " THE BELLE OP LYNN. 65 " Do not interfere," said the miller, turning to his ife. " Let me manage this thing in my own fashion. I repeat that she shall not marry this beggarly French- jnan ! " He turned almost fiercely to his daughter. II You disobeyed me, and you defy me. You shall not leave the house again until you are to be trusted ! I for- bid you to go to the meadows, or the woods, or the banki of Allan Water! You shall not leave the house again unless I give you permission ! I thought I could have trusted you ! " The sound of her bitter, passionate sobbing, as she passed through the porch and went to her room, struck him with dismay. There was no dinner on that day at the mill, no beau- tiful brooding Sabbath calm; no rest, no peace. Th* miller himself was too angry to remain in the house; he wandered to and fro in the meadows and the corn-fields ; he cursed in his heart the young Frenchman who had brought this dark shadow over his once happy home. How the next few days passed none could tell. Father and mother tried to distract their thoughts by hard work, while Lima wept herself ill with love, regret and pain. She realized it now ; there was no comparison between love of him and love of others, even the parents who had been so kind to her ; she knew at last that she was ready ^nd willing to give up all the world for him. A week passed and she had never offered to go out-of- doors, nor had her father relented in his severity, and again there came a moonlight night when she heard the sound of oars beneath her window, and she knew her lover was there. There was no struggle this time with onscience or duty love was lord of all ; she went to the window and opened it. She saw plainly, by the light of the moon, her lover's boat underneath the window, and his face upraised to her. She told him all that had happened, and he was hotly indignant. " It is persecution, tyrrany, injustice ! " he cried. " You belong to me, Lima, and not to any one else in the world. No one shall part us ! As your father will not give his consent to our marriage, we will marry without it." 86 THE BELLE OF LYU1C. He prayed and he pleaded until she consented. It could not be jnst at present, for he must give notice at the church and at the registrar's office. Not the church at Lynn, but at Haslingdene, some few mile distant, where neither his name or hers would excite much interest ; and if they did so, if the worst happened, and the miller heard of it, they could find some other plan. The only thing was if she would consent. She did not refuse ; she told him quite frankly that if he must make a choice between her father and himself, that it must be him; and the words spoken under the solemn light of moon and stars were to her sacred as as oath. He could not tell when he should come for her; a certain number of days must pass in order that all legal formalities might be complied with. " I shall come some morning, love," he said to her. " I ahall come to your window here, as I have done to-night. It will be quite early in the morning, and a glow of golden light from the rising sun will lie on Allan Water. I shall throw up to the window here a great bunch of red roses, and when you see that signal you will know the hour has come. Then you will hasten out to me, and I will row you across the Allan Water. It will be so early that the birds will hardly have begun to sing so early that the flowers will be still asleep. And then we will go to Haslingdene Church. When you leave that church yon will be my wife, and nothing but death can part ." Oh, iwet, vain, empty worii. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 67 CHAPTER XIII. THERE came a morning at the end of August, when quite iu the early dawn Lima heard the soft splashing of the oars beneath her window and she knew the hour uid come that this was her wedding-day, and that never again between herself and her lover would the shadow of parting fall. That day would give them to each other while they lived, and in the depths of her loving heart she blessed it. She heard what seemed to her the music of the oars then came the soft thud of the great bunch of roses at the window her heart beat, and her face flushed it was he!" When she drew aside the hangings the picture that met her eyes was a most beautiful one the son was ris- ing in all its pomp of rose, purple and gold, and a great glow of golden light lay over the broad, beautiful stretch of Allan Water; there was the boat just under her window, and there was her lover, his handsome face all bright with love raised to her. He stretched out his arm to her. " Make haste, my love," he cried ; " each moment that I wait for you here seems an hour." She had written no letters, as most girls do who run away from home, she had left no farewell messages it was all useless, she said to herself. Yet she did not leave her old home without passionate regret ; but the love of youth is strong, and the passion of youth knows little control. She stopped for some few minutes outside the door of her mother's room longing with the whole force of her heart to cry out that she was going would they bless her and forgive her? She was going with her young lover, who was waiting for her on Allan Water, with whom she was about to begin a new, beautiful life, but which would lose half its beauty without them. The words rose in a burning torrent from her heart to her lips, but she stifled them there. 68 THE BELLE OF LYNN. It would be of no use, If her father knew he would lock her in her rooms, and her lover must go away weary at heart again. She kissed the door of the room where those who loved her so well slept. Her feet lingered over the threshold of the dear old home. She saw her- self a little fair-haired child, the very pride of the miller's heart ; she could see herself growing a maiden, fair and tall, like the white lilies in the garden, even more beloved and more passionately worshipped than when she was a child, and now she was flying from them. Was what her father said true that the young Frenchman's love had brought a curse upon their home? Could love ever bring a curse ? As she passed forever from the threshold the safe shelter, the sure refuge of home she thanked them in her heart for all that they had done for her, for the love, the patience, the self-denial. " They will forgive me," she said, " when we are married, and Leon and I come home together they will forgive us ; they cannot refuse." She opened the door that led from the porch to the garden, and such a rush of sunlight came in, such a burst of fragrance, it seemed to greet her like a blessing and an omen of good. Leon rowed up to the green bank, and the next minute she was with him in the boat on Allan Water. " Forever and forever ! " he said solemnly, to her. " We shall part no more after to-day." "Oh, Leon, I am so frightened," she cried, and her beautiful face grew pale in the rosy light. " I am. sorely afraid." " Courage, my darling, my beautiful sweetheart, cour~ age. * It is only the first step that costs.' How good of you to come, and was ever wedding-day heralded by such a rosy dawn ? " But she shuddered violently. "Oh, Leon," she said, "the wind is cold, and the water is cold. I am afraid." " There is nothing to fear," he said. " See, I will row yon over Allan Water as softly as a swan floats." ^Jt is not the water I_fear. Oh, Leon, Leon, I am THE BELLE OF LYNN. 69 doing wrong. I should not be here : I should not have left home." " It is too late, my darling," he cried, with a victorious smile. " It is too late, my darling, to row you back again. Be happy, Lima, this Is our wedding-day. Do not trem- ble, do not weep : the life that lies before you is as bright as the sky or the broad waters. Why should you fear? I am by your side, your lover, soon to be your husband. Hark ! the birds are beginning to sing. Onrs is a golden wedding-day, Lima." He kissed the beautiful face and quivering lips. He talked to her until the color came back to her face and the smiles to her lips. " It was natural, Leon, that I should feel leaving them, they have been so kind to me. They love me. They have never refused me anything until now.' ' I will be kind to you, I will love you, I will never refuse you anything," he said, half jealously. They were half-way across the water now, and Leon ceased rowing. " Look round, Lima," he said. " Was ever anything so fair?" The golden shafts of light were falling everywhere; the leaves stirred in the fresh morning breeze ; there was a slight ripple on the surface of Allan Water ; and the water-lilies seemed all at once to grow wide awake. She forgot her trouble in the fairy-like beauty of the scene around her. When they reached the green shore opposite to the mill, she could see the red roof and the blue pigeons flying. " Good-bye to my dear old home," she said " good- bye." " You will have another home you will love better," said her lover, still half jealous of the love she was leaving behind her. " Now Lima, take your last look at it ; when we turn down the high-road you will see it no more." She stood looking at it for some time, then she held out her hand to him with a sudden, graceful gesture. " Leon in the sight of my old home, which is a sanctu- 70 THE BELLE OF LYNN. ary to me, promise me that you will always be true and faithful to me." " I do promise. I could never be anything else," he said. " Promise that you will always love me as you do now, better than any one else. Promise that your truth, your patience, your love and kindness shall never fail." " I promise," he said ; and then, with a long-drawn, bitter sigh, she turned away, and saw the old home no more. ****** The miller was down early that morning, it was so fine and fair, and there was so much work to be done. He said that he would go out at once, and return to breakfast in two or three hours. As he passed by Allan Water, he saw that the boat had gone from the place where it was usually moored. He looked to see where it was, and saw that it was on the opposite side of the stream. He wondered who had taken it there, but no suspicion, however faint, of the truth occurred to him. His wife had spoken a few words to him about Lima before he left the house. The miller fancied that he saw some slight improvement in her health and spirits. His wife thought just the contrary. " I have had a strange feeling over her during the last few days," said Mrs. Derwent to her husband. " How I wish that either the young Frenchman had never come to this house, or that you could make up your mind to like him. John Derwent turned round and looked at his wife. " Do you mean to say," he cried, " that you like kim ? " " I think Itould like any one whom Lima loved." " You would not like him long," said the miller. " Do not say that before her, or she will think you are on her side, and that will do her more harm than good ; it will make her jndepende-nt of me. " I shall say nothing to ht>r that you would not approve of, John ; you may be quite sum of that," said Mrs. Der- went, but all the same her heart v';s full of loving, kindl/ THE BELLE OF LYNN. 71 sympathy with her daughter. She would have done any- thing to have restored peace and harmony to those two whom she loved so well. The miller went to his work, and though he would not have owned it, his heart was hot and heavy within him when he thought of his beloved daughter. The mother, too, went about her daily duties sadly and slowly, her heart yearning over the girl she knew to be in sore distress. She thought to herself that she would make her some nice tea : to women of Mrs. Derwent's stamp, a cup of tea is a salve for any evil that can befall human nature. She busied herself over it ; she brought rich, sweet cream from the dairy she prepared a little tray dainty enough for a queen. She took it up stairs, thinking how the beautiful face would smile and brighten, but when she cried out "Lima, good-morning ; I have brought you some tea," there was no answer. She went into the room, and there was no Lima. At first she did not feel uneasy, did not suspect anything, but fancied her daughter had gone down without her knowing it. She carried the dainty little tray down-stairs again. Then, with growing fear and growing sorrow, she began to search for her, but there was no Lima; neither in the house, the gardens, the orchard, the clover mead- ows, nor on the banks of Allan Water was there any Lima! And when the miller returned, two hours after- ward, his wife met him at the threshold with, a white, scared face. " John, she said, " Lima is gone ! " " Gone," he repeated. " Gone where ? " He evidently did not understand. " I cannot find her," said the trembling womam. * Her room is empty, and she is nowhere to be found." The miller's ruddy, comely face grew ghastly white. " Do you mean," he said, " that she has run away ? " "I do not know," cried the unhappy mother. " Only Heaven knows. I cannot find her. Oh, John, I am afraid you have been to hard on her, and that she has gone away." 72 THE BELLE OP LYNN. " If she has gone alone," said John Derwent, " I will find her, forgive her, and bring her back again, but if she has gone with him may the curse of the disobedient follow her and cling to her, her whole life long." He did not heed the cry of distress that came from his wife, but went out of the house in search of her. CHAPTEK XIY. IT was long past noon when the miller returned, and then he was a changed man ; he looked twenty years older ; his face was haggard and worn ; great lines were drawn round the lips and across the brow that had not been there yesterday ; the ruddy, comely face was livid with passion and pain. He walked into the kitchen, where his wife was busy ; she looked up in alarm when she saw his face. " "Wife," he said, slowly, " go and bring me the Bible." Wondering, afraid to ask any questions, afraid to linger, she hastened to obey him, and bringing the Bible, she placed it on the table before him. He turned over page after page of the written register ; she heard him mur- muring the names of the dead ; she heard him murmur his own name John Derwent, married to Helen Grey. Then he was silent for some few minutes. His face gave evidence of the terrible struggle in his soul. " Listen," he said. " Lima Derwent, daughter of the above, born May 18th. You hear that, my wife 3 " " Yes," she answered. " Give me pen and ink," he said. She gave it to him. He wrote a few words rapidly. " Listen again," he said. " Lima Derwent, born May 18th, died August 22d. You hear? " " Oh, Heaven ! " cried the unhappy mother, " she is not dead, my beautiful Lima, surely she is not dead ! " " She is more than dead to me," said the miller. " If I had seen her eyes shut, and folded her hands in death, it would have been better for her better for me. She THE BELLE OF LYNN. 73 is more than dead. She has left us to many the man whom I forbade her to see again." " Married ! " cried the mother, with some feeling of relief, " Lima married ? " " Yes, married ; and dead to us for all time. She had to choose between us, and she has chosen. She has given us up for him. We have loved her, cherished her, worked for her, and she has gone from us, with a smile on her face, without one word of farewell think of that ! after all these years; gone, without a touch of her father's hand or a kiss on her mother's face ! You need not cry so bitterly, wife ; it has not hurt her. Do not let it hurt you." " My only child ! " cried the unhappy mother. " My dear and only child ! Oh, John, I cannot bear it." " You will have to bear it," he said, grimly. " She has left you no choice. She went away this morning, wife, while you and I slept dreaming of her. John Dalton met her with her lover on the high-road to Haslingdene, and Mrs. Roberts, the postmistress at Haslingdene, saw them married. There is no error no mistake ; that is the child we have loved, reared, and cherished. A stran- ger came with a handsome face and a winning tongue all the love and care of years are forgotten he raises his hand, and she leaves us to go with him. You need not weep for her, if she can forget you so soon." " Oh, John, you are so hard upon her ! " cried the weeping mother. " Hard upon her ! " he said with grim irony. " You call me hard. I would have given her the last drop of blood in my heart, I would, indeed ; but she will be child of mine no more ! " " You will forgive her you must forgive her, John ! " cried his wife. " / forgive her ! " said the miller, his face working with emotion. " / no, never ! While sun and moon shine, I shut my heart against her, forever and forever it will hold her no more! And you, listen for I shall never change you must cast her out of your heart as I do out of mine. I forbid you to see her or speak to jber. I forbid vou to go near lier. If you meet her, turn 74 THE BELLS OF LYNN. away yonr head. If she cries out to you, be deaf and do not listen to her voice. " My only child ! " wailed the unhappy mother ; " how can I do it?" " It is not a question of how you can do it," said the miller; it must be done. We have been husband and wife for more than twenty years ; never an angry word has passed between us ; we have never had a hard thought of each other ; we have never quarrelled, and, my dear, we have been true to each other. On your love and your truth, I charge you to obey me." " My only child ! " she cried. " Oh, John, do not be BO hard upon me." His face darkened. " I have never said a rough word to you in my life," he said ; " but do not trifle with me ; do not try me too far. I will be obeyed. I told my daughter to choose between me and a man I hated she chose him; I will tell you, my wife, to choose between the child who has been false to us both and me." She clung to him, weeping. " You, John," she said, "you against all the world, though it will break my heart." " You promise to obey me implicitly," he said. " Yon will not see her, or speak to her ? " " Not against your will," she said ; " but I pray Heaven to soften your heart to your only child." " My only child forsook me for a stanger," he cried, and there was exceeding bitterness in his voice. " We are childless now, wife, childless you and I." And the strong man broke down, sobbing like a child. Then he told his wife all that he had heard ; busy neighbors kad been to tell him ; no detail had been spared to him. They could tell him, now that it was too iate, how, for many long weeks, the attention and interest of all the neighborhood had been aroused and centered in this love affair. One had seen the lovers together quite early in the morning on Allan Water; another had seen them in church; another had witnessed the marriage; a fourth TH1 BELLE OF LYNN. 5 tiad seen them at Haslingdene Railway Station | a fif th had always been sure that they would be married ; a sixth had heard what the young Frenchman had said. There was a chorus of sympathy and interest, but the genera} feeling was for the lovers and against the parents. Never was a day more miserable than that at Allan Mill. The miller could not work; the mill stood still. His wife could do nothing but weep. It was worse than loss by death, for there was no comfort in the desolation. A long weary day and a long weary night, when the mother could not rest in her room, fcrat wandered about weeping and wailing, calling on the daughter she loved, and who had forsaken her collect- ing with loving hands all that belonged to her, kissing the things that her hands had touched last her simple, tender heart breaking with grief that she had lost her. Then came morning light the night had seemed endless. Where was she, the beautiful and beloved, who had slept last night under the safe shelter of the old home where was she now ? Morning brought a letter, addressed to the miller, in Lima's own writing. It lay for some time on the table untouched. The miller's face had grown so dark when he saw it that his wife had not dared to speak of it. Then suddenly he took it up and opened it. Surely, a more pathetic little letter was never penned, but it did not touch him. She told him how she had struggled between love and duty ; how unhappy she had been ; how dearly she loved him ; but that love for her lover had been stronger than anything else, and she had given up everything to go with him, but not without pain. Ah ! no, a thousand times no, not without pain! Her heart had ached at leaving the old home at leaving them but she could no longer bear life without her lover. She was married, and her husband was so good to her, she loved him so much ; but the shadow to her sunshine, the clouds in her sky, the drawback to her otherwise perfect happiness, was having left them. " If they would forgive her, if they would receive her 76 THE BELLE OF LTKN. and her husband, if they would send a few words of loving pardon, she should be happy as woman never had been happy before." The miller read on, his anger growing at every word. " They were so happy Leon had three days' holiday from the college, and he had taken such a lovely little cottage for her at Lynn ; he would get some pretty furni- ture, but home would be no home for her unless they came to it and forgave her." A loving appeal that would have touched most men ; it only angered the miller more deeply. " She will see what my answer is," he cried. " I told her to choose between him, and me / she chose him now she must do without me." He went out that morning and found the cottage taken at Lynn, then he hastened home, and collected every- thing that had been hers the pictures, the books, the pretty furniture that he had bought with so much pride for her room, the piano all her little ornaments, presents from him her wardrobe, everything in this world that had ever belonged to her the very toys that her mother had treasured from the time of her childhood, were sent to the cottage. " I will keep nothing in the house belonging to her," he cried, in his anger, " nothing." But the weeping mother concealed one thing that he in his haste and anger had forgotten that was her portrait, painted by an artist who had stayed some time at Lynn. That the mother cautiously concealed. " The time may come," she said to herself, " when he will notice it." When that pretty room looking over Allan Water was dismantled and laid bare, it seemed to the miller and his wife as though some one lay dead there, and at last he vowed to himself that he would close it, and that while he lived it should never be opened again. Who can tell what the strong man suffered as he looked round the room ; he locked the door, and taking the key he flung it into the depths of Allan Water. With all that he sent to the cottage there were but THE BELLE OF LYNN. 77 these few lines : " Yon have made your choice and you must abide by it. May the curse of the disobedient follow you and cling to you so long as you shall live ! " CHAPTER XV. WINTER had come, crowned with snow and frost ; all the glories of the summer were things of the past. The flowers were dead, the birds had gone in search of sun- light, the winds were cold, the meadows brown and bare ; notwithstanding that winter has a charm of its own, a beauty peculiar to itself, there was a sense of desolation in the absence of sunshine and flowers. Nowhere was this desolation felt more than at the mill ; the sunlight had gone from there even as it had gone from the landscape ; she who had been the light of the home was there no longer. The great, broad sheet of Allan Water stretched out, darkling and drear, without the light of the sun on its surface, but nothing was so much changed as the interior of that house, which had once been the happiest home in England. Not many months had passed since his daughter had left him, but already the miller's crisp, curly locks were turning gray, his ruddy, cheery face had grown pale, and the deep lines that pain had drawn there never lessened. He was a changed man. He went out to his work, but his manner was moody and silent ; no one ever heard him laugh or sing; all his honest, cheery jests were ended. It was a broken-down, haggard man who brood- ed by the mill-stream and on the banks of Allan Water ; he had lost that which was dearer to him than life itself, and life held nothing for him which could in any way compensate for the loss. His neighbors talked about him, and said what a pity it was that he made such a trouble of his daughter's marriage. One or two, in kindly fashion, tried to speak to him about it, but he would never listen to one word; he held up his hand with a 78 THE BELLE OF LYNN. gesture for silence, a gesture which no one ever ventured to disobey. At first those who knew both father and daughter would try to make peace between them, would speak to the miller of his beloved child how beautiful she look- ed, and how happy she seemed ; no one ever ventured so to speak a second time. After he had sent away everything belonging to her, had locked up her empty room and thrown the key into the depths of Allan "Water, he never mentioned his daughter's name ; but he could not hide the ravages that pain and sorrow had made upon him. The mill had ceased to interest him ; the magnificent harvest that his fields had yielded, the corn stored in his granaries, the fruit that had filled his orchards, the ever-increasing account at the bank, gave him BO pleasure. He had worked for his daughter all his life, but he would never so work again. Not one of the golden sovereigns he had hoarded with such loving care should ever go to enrich the Frenchman whom he hated with intense hatred, because he had stolen his daughter from him. Time hac been when the miller was the cheeriest, the blithest, the happiest of men ; there was no trace of him in the sullen, brooding man whom people began to avoid, because they began to dread him. His friends and neighbors thought him hard. After all, it was a love-match, and every one sympathizes with a love-match. Every one liked and admired the hand- some young husband who had been so determined to win the miller's lovely daughter ; every one loved and admired the beautiful young wife who had given up everything to marry the man she loved ; and everyone hoped that in time the breach would be healed. It was useless to do or say anything assuredly the miller's anger would wear itself out in time. Meanwhile the sym- pathy of the people was certainly with the young pair. The principal, of the college had been very angry over the marriage, and had half threatened that Leon de Sol- dana must find employment elsewhere. He had gone to Sweetbrier Cottage to say so, but the sight of that lovel/ yonng face disarmed him. THE BELT.E OF LYNN. 79 " You have done wrong," lie said to Lima. " You have helped to mar your husband's whole career by marrying so young." But she raised her lovely eyes to his. " Do not be angry with me," she said ; " we loved each other so much," and the principal being a kind-hearted man, was not angry. He made some little increase in the young count's salary, and recommended to him several private pupils from the town of Lynn. So that during that first year there was no pressure of poverty at the pretty little cottage ; nothing to mar the perfect beauty and perfect poetry of one of the sweetest love stories ever tola. No one could see the young husband and his wife to- gether without warmest sympathy ; they loved each other BO dearly, were so entirely the whole world to each other. It was only the old people who looked at each other so sadly, and said that it was too bright and too beautiful to last ; only the old who knew, by most bitter experience, the strength and the worth of human love. The little cottage, framed in flowers and foliage, was earthly Paradise, the prettiest little home in Lynn, even as its mistress was always and ever the Belle of Lynn ; the simple dwellers in Lynn were proud of her, and fond of her ; the only drawback to what otherwise would have been perfect happiness for Lima was the separation from her parents; but that could not last, she argued within herself; her father must yield, and then then would come perfect bliss. It had been a terrible trouble to her when, on reaching home, she read those lines written by her father. The words never left her mind : " The curse of the disobedient." To her infinite distress, Leon had laughed at them, said they were melodramatic, and seemed to ridicule them, until he saw how much they affected his wife. " You do not know your English proverbs, my dar- ling," said the young count. " There is one that runs in this fashion 'Curses, like chickens, come home to roost.' " She looked at him with halMrighteued eyes: that he 80 THE BELLE OP LYNtf. should speak lightly or think lightly of anything so terri. ble as her father's curse, seemed dreadful to her. She did not understand how light and mercurial is the French temperament, how laughter and tears lie close together in those laughter-loving natures. " If that means that my father's curse would recoil upon himself, I would far rather that it fell upon me," she cried. " The probability is, my darling, that it will not fall upon either, but will remain quite harmless, just as it is," said the young count, with a smile. But she could not forget the words they were always ringing through her heart and brain, and when she was alone she found herself continually wondering how they could come true. " The curse of the disobedient ! " "What curse could happen to her? A curse meant some terrible evil. What evil could possibly befall her ? Nothing while she had the love of her husband ; she could not know other evil than the loss of that. Poverty would be perhaps hard to bear, but by his side it would matter so little. Sickness would be bad, but nothing if he were at hand to console and comfort her. She could imagine no evil that could befall her while she had her husband's love, and she could never lose that; nothing was safe on earth but that; as the stars were fixed in the heavens, as the seasons were fixed to time, as day followed night, as the sun rose and set, so fixed, so sure, so unchangeable, was her husband's love for her. Nothing could rob her of that, nothing could take it from her, no curse could touch it. While that was hers, she felt that she could defy the whole world. Eer happiness, her love, and her beauty grew with the days ; never had husband been so devoted as hers ; never love so true or so chivalrous never girl so beloved. There was but the one cloud in her sky her separation from her parents. At first, after her return home, she had made great efforts. She had written many times, but the letters had been returned unopened and unread. Once, and this had been the hardest to bear, when she was walking in the streets of Lynn and in the distance THE BELLE OF LYNN. 81 she saw her father. Her heart beat fast at the sight of the well-known figure and the changed but familiar face. She would have hastened to him, but he turned away he would not meet her or look at her. Again, when she had wandered near the banks of Allan Water, she saw her mother crossing the clover meadows, and the girl's heart went out to her with a great passionate cry. But her mother did not wait for her ; perhaps the miller was in sight, perhaps she remembered too vividly his threats and menaces. She did not stop, but as she hurried back to Allan Mill, one heard on the soft summer wind the sound of a woman's bitter wailing and passion- ate sob. A year had passed, the beautiful golden summer with its wealth of fruit and flowers had come again. The tide of prosperity seemed to have set in at the little cottage. It was wonderful what an ardor for learn- ing French had seized upon the inhabitants of Lynn. The young teacher had more pupils than he could manage, and th<- lovely summer days, as they glided by, found him as busy as he was happy. He spent the even- ings in the beautiful little garden, where Lima brought him coffee and cigarettes. " I am the happiest of all the long line of the Sol- danas," he said to her one evening, when the sun was setting and the happy birds were singing themselves to sleep ; " I am the happiest and most fortunate of all the Soldanas, although I have never worn a title or seen even the shadow of the home of my ancestors. I have a dear and beautiful wife who makes up for all." She looked at him with such an expression of delight on her face it was almost pitiful to see. " Do 1 really make up to you for everything you have lost ? " she asked. He threw his arms around her and drew her to his heart ; he kissed her with passionate affection. " I declare," he said, solemnly, " that I would rather have you for my wife, and have your love, than be the Emperor of France, or the richest man in the world ! " " You mean that, Leon ? " she said, her lovely face all flushed with delight 82 THE BELLS OF LTNW. " Of course I mean it," he replied. " Why, Lima, I do more than mean it ; if I had been reigning lord of the whole domain of Soldana I would have given up all to have married you 1 " He spoke the words and she listened to them ; the time came when both remembered them with bitterness and pain. CHAPTER XVL " THB course of true love never did run smooth," says the poet; but at Sweetbrier Cottage the course was smooth enough. " I shall always live in hope," said the beautiful young wife. " I am sure the day will come when my father will find that he cannot do without me any longer, and will come in search of me, and then, Leon, I shall be the very happiest woman who has ever lived ; and it will all come right, will it not, Leon ? " He answered, laughingly, " Yes," but he did not really care much about the matter, only so far as his beautiful young wife's happiness was concerned. The miller had never been particularly civil to him. He had hated him with relentless hatred from the moment he found out that he wanted his daughter. He cared very little whether the miller came near or not, and he wondered greatly that his wife should attach so much importance to it. If the plain truth had been told, he preferred matters as they were. His beautiful Lima was more his owt: than if her time and attention had been divided betwet : him and her parents. There are few people in this life who can boast of one year of entire happiness. Lima did, and in the afu-r years she could never remember the first warning of the shadow that was to fall. He talked much to her of France, and of the ancient glories of his race. He liked to sit out with her in the cottage garden, near where the great sheaves of white lilies grew, and tell her all the stories of his ancestors : how they had fought in the Crusdi.v v liow they had THE BELLE OF LYNN. 8 served king and country, how they had been wow>ldppe.\ by those who lived on their domain they had dom> great deeds, of which all France had been proud. " And now," he added, as he watched the rays of th ^ sunset on the white lilies, " now I am the last of what was once one of the most powerful families in France. When I die the name of Soldana will be extinct. If ever the history of our family is written, it will be told how I was born and lived and died in exile." " But you are not unhappy, because you have me," she said, laying her loving arms round his neck. " That is true, Lima," he answered. " I would rather have you than all France put together." " Shall you never go back to France ? " she asked, wistfully. " I have never been there," he replied. " I was born in England. No, I do not suppose that I shall ever see my beautiful France." " Could you not go there in disguise ? " she asked. ** Should you be discovered, what would be done to you?" He laughed bitterly. " I should be sent away, or put into prison," he re- plied. " I am not quite sure which. My mother lives in France, hidden in some out-of-the-world nook. I wish she could see you, Lima. My poor, proud, loving mother ! her very heart craves and yearns for me, yet I shall never see her! I cannot go to her, and she cannot leave France." " Is your mother proud ? " she asked, wonderingly. " I should think that she was the poorest and the proudest woman in the whole wide world. She looks upon me as a disinherited young prince, and herself as a kind of displaced queen," he replied. " I think myself there is no pride so grim, so terrible, so unrelenting, as the pride of a person who has lost all that the world holds dear. I have thought at times that if my mother had been rich, and had her proper position in the world, she might have been an amiable woman." " Is she not amiable? " asko keep; he could not have any money troubles; he had been so wonderfully successful in his teaching. A new anxiety came to her. She fancied that he had something to say to her, and could not make up his mind to speak. They were talking one winter's evening, when the fire burned brightly and the lamps were lighted, speaking of one of the pupils of the college, who had died recently after a painful illness. Leon looked at his wife, whose beautiful face shone brightly m the fire-light. " Lima," he said, " what is the greatest pain in the world, should you think ? " " The greatest and most bitter ? " she asked. " Yes the one that hurts those who suffer from it most." " I should think," she replied, " it is the pain of finding that you loved one who was unworthy of love." " You are right," he said. " But do you think it often happens that people find out the beloved one is worthless ? Love is blind, and does not see the faults of the beloved." " I should say love sees every fault," she said, slowly, " but loves on, in spite of all. Leon," she added, sud- denly, " if I saw in you every fault that man can have, I should love you in spite of them it would not lessen or change my love." He looked at her with laughter in his eyes. " There is one fault you would never forgive in me," he said; "and that is, if I found any face fairer, any eyes brighter than your own." "I should never forgive you if you loved any one 90 THE BKLLE OF LYHN. else," she said, gravely ; " but that yon will never do, Leon." " Never, my darling," he said, kissing the beautiful young face. Then it seemed as though the subject had a weird fas- cination for him. " Lima," he said, " of course such a thing never could be ; it is neither in the bounds of possibility nor proba- bility but suppose that I did forget you and care for some one else what should you do ? " " I should die, Leon," she answered, gently. " But no one can die when they like," he said. " I do not think I should wait for death to come for me ; I should seek it but such a thing could never be, could it, Leon ? " "No, my darling never," and every word of this kind that he spoke she gathered in her heart and she never forgot one. Still the idea haunted her and pursued her that he had something to say to her. " Lima," he would begin, then pause abruptly, and when she raised an expectant face to his he would ask some trivial question. At last she went up to him. " Leon," she said, " I have a fancy over you." He looked startled and conscious. " Do not indulge it," he said. " We have agreed that fancies are all nonense." " This is a grave one," she answered. " I am haunted by a conviction that you have something to say to me which you do not like saying is it so ? " " You must be a witch, Lima. It is so. How did you find it out?" " It is not very difficult to discover," she replied. " Now tell me what it is." " I do not like telling you," he said. " I have de- ferred it from day to day, until I am ashamed of not having told you. It will pain yon and hurt you, I know." " What is it ? " she asked, with quivering lips. <; You frighten me, Leon." " Nay, darling, there is nothing to fear. It is this. THE BELLE OF LYNN. SI "We have not been parted since onr marriage, and now I find it absolutely imperative that I should go to France at Christmas.'' " To France ! " she said, and her face grew colorless. " But, Leon, you will take me with you you could not leave me here ? " "Unfortunately, there is no alternative," he replied. " I would most gladly take you, but that is utterly impossible. I must seek some disguise myself. I could not take you." " But why are you going ? " she cried, in an agony of fear and misery. " Why need you go ? " " I must go on business that I can not explain to you now. Hereafter, when it is all over, I will tell you, but now you would not understand." She went up to him and knelt down by his side. " My darling," she said, " do not go. I have a fore- boding, a terrible fear over this journey." " I must go," he said, firmly ; " there is no help for it." She slid from his arms to the ground with a passionate cry, and she lay like a wounded bird. He tried to raise her and to cheer her. But the dawn of the tragedy had begun, and she seemed by instinct to know it. 92 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER XVIII. THE twentieth of December came, a day that wag always to be remembered in Lima's life, the day on which the young husband she loved so well was to leave her for the first time since their marriage. Since he had told her, the thought of this parting had been on her heart like a weight of lead ; it was her one dread, the one idea that never left her. She could not realize to herself the time when he would be gone, what she should do, what would become of her ; how she should fill the long hours. She had lived so entirely for him, that she could not understand what her life would be without him, and now the day had come when he was to leave her. A cold, bright day : the snow on the ground was frozen hard, the hoar frost shone on the bare branches of the trees, on the hedges and the meadows. The ice lay thick on the bosom of Allan Water ; perhaps the pretti- est sight of all was the number of robin-redbreasts flying about in the snow. Neither sight nor sound could cheer the desolate heart of the young wife. In vain she had prayed and pleaded that either she might go with him, or that he would stay with her. It seemed to her that the only important thing in this world was that they should be together. There was nothing of sufficient interest, in her estimation, to part them, " I would not leave you for a whole week to be made Queen of Spain," she said. " I shall not be made King of Spain," he replied, laughingly, " and Lima, I would not go unless it was imperative." " I should feel so much easier and so much happier if I knew what you were going for," she said. " And that I will tell jou when I return," he replied. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 93 He could not understand why he should feel this part- ing so acutely. " I shall soon be back," he said to her frequently. " I shall only be away for a few weeks." " But I shall have to live through every separate mo- ment without you," she sighed. Yet his heart was touched when he saw her packing his portmanteau. He was busy writing, and she had brought all that he would require into the room, solely and simply that she might have the happiness of looking at him while she was at work. He saw how lovingly she prepared everything ; her fingers seemed to caress each different article belonging to him; more than once he saw her stoop down and kiss something before placing it in his portmanteau, and he thought to himself how much and how dearly she must love him ; and then he seemed to understand better how she should miss him. That was the eve of his departure ; he remembered every detail how, more than once, she had thrown down her work and hastily crossed the room to go to him ; how she had thrown her loving arms round his neck and kissed his face ; how she had cried to him not to go, not to leave her, for she could not live without him. And now the morning had come shining, bright, clear and cold. Lima rose early, and her husband re- membered for long afterward how the beautiful face lost its color, and the sweet lips quivered when she tried to smile. She made him some coffee and some toast, but she could not take anything herself. " Leon," she said, " will you let me walk to the station with you ? " " Certainly, my darling, if you wish it," he replied. " I do wish it. I could not bear to say good-bye to you here, where we have been so happy together. I should like my farewell to be associated with a strange place, not with home. I should not like to look around me every hour and say ' that is where I stood when he kissed me for the last time ; that is where he said good- bye.' I could not bear it. I shall say 'good-bye' to you at the station, and I shall not see it again until you come home; then I shall go to meet you. When you have 94 THE BELLE OF LYNN. gone away, every time I look at that chair where you are sitting now, 1 shall see you and go over again all that we have said, and I have thought, Leon," she added, her eyes filling with tears, " kiss me here ; that will be a pleasant memory for me when I look at the little table with the flowering Christmas rose upon it. I shall say to myself, ' It was there he kissed me, and said that he would love me forever and ever.' ' " Of course I will," he said, hastening to her, and taking her in his arms. He kissed her face with passion- ate affection, but even as he did so he gave one glance at the clock, as though he felt anxious about the time. " I do not think dying could be worse than this," Lima said to herself, as she put on her bonnet and cloak. " Leon," she cried, " do you know that I shall come back to this house and find it empty ; do you know all that means for me? " " It is only for a time, darling," he said, but her pas- sion of grief affected him ; his face grew white, and the hands which tried to soothe and caress her trembled. They stood together at the threshold of the little home where they had been so happy; they gave one long lingering glance at the pretty porch, the snow-covered garden. " I shall be back before the snow melts," said Leon, and they walked down the frosty road together. Some who met her, as she walked home alone after her husband had started, hardly recognized her. Her face was white and set ; it was more like the face of a dead than a living woman. The day passed for her in a trance of grief ; she neither eat, drank, slept, nor rested, until at last the little maid grew alarmed, and asked if she should fetch any one. Ah ! if she could have had the comfort of the loving mother's kindly words if she could have laid her head on some faithful, loving breast and wept out all her sor- row, it would have been well for her ; but there was no one ; her young husband had been all the world to her; she had not cared to make friends while she had him. So that now, in her sorrow and desolation, she was more alone than any one else could have been. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 95 She never forgot the first day ; the blank, chill desola- tion, the despair. The greatest pain was when her eyes gazed on anything that had belonged to him, that he had recently used, or that he had touched before his depar- ture. " If every day is to be like this," she said to herself, in a passion of regret, " I shall not live until he comes back." There was no comfort anywhere. A scene that had in it some pathos was passing at the mill that same afternoon. The miller came in from work rather earlier than usual. No longer the cheerful, genial, kindly man who had a kind word for every one, a smile and a jest, but a morose man brooding always over a hidden sorrow ; angry, disappointed in his best hopes. He took his pipe and his book ; he did not notice that his wife continually threw at him imploring glances. She did not see anything in his face which gave her any help or hope. At last she spoke. " Have you heard any news in Lynn to-day ? " she asked. " No," he replied, briefly. " I have," she said, tremblingly, but he did not ask her what it was, or invite her to continue the conversa- tion. " I have heard some news, John," she continued, trembling violently, yet determined to succeed in making him listen to her. " News that seems to me so strange it has frightened me." He would not ask her what it was, he would not seem to take any interest in it, but there was a nervous, almost excited expression in his eyes that told her what was coming. " I went to Lynn this morning," she said. " Oh, John, do not be angry with me ; I wonder why I am so frightened to speak to you, so frightened that I tremble, and my breath comes in hot, thick gasps. I heard some- thing that I must tell you, even if you should kill me for it." "I am not very likely to kill you," he answered, grimly. " I heard," she continued, " that the young Frenchman 96 THE BELLE OP LYNff. has gone back to France, and that she ," she dare not say the name " Lima," " she is quite alone." The miller's face grew livid, but he nttered no words. " Quite alone, dear," said the trembling woman, laying her hands on his shoulders, " and my heart aches for her, it yearns over her. It is drawn toward her as though some one pulled the strings. Oh, John John, my heart's love, my dear husband, let me go to her. They say he has gone for a holiday, that he will come back when Christmas is all over, but I do not know ; my heart is heavy. Some one who saw her at the station told me that there never was so sorrowful a face, that no one ever shed more bitter tears, and I cannot bear to think that she is alone and desolate ; let me go to her, John." He did not utter one word. " I would not vex you, I would not tease you for the whole wide world, John," pleaded the faithful creature, " but she is mine ; I nursed her ; she is my very own. Let me go to her ? " She clasped her hands round his neck. He unclasped them. " I am not angry with you," he said. " You are a woman and weak. Wait one moment." He crossed the room and took the big Bible from its ehelf. He laid it open before her. " Head that," he said, sternly. She read : " Lima Derwent, born May 18th. Died August 22d." " You see that word ' dead,' " he cried. " How can you ask me if you may go to see a person after whose name I have written the word ' dead ' ? That is my answer." She fell into a passion of tears, she clung to him, and he put her away. " You have my answer," he said, " and if you leave the house on such an errand you never re-enter it." " You are hard and cruel," she sobbed ; " how can you be so hard ? " That answer would have been, had he spoken, because be loved her so much. THE BELLE OF LYNH. CHAPTER XIX. A LADY at that time the most beautiful, and with one exception the most powerful woman in Europe sat alone in one of the most magnificent salons in the palace of Versailles a lady whose diadem has been washed in tears, whose throne has been a terror, whose life has been the most romantic, the most brilliant, the most sorrowful ever known whose loveliness, whose imperial grace was once the light of Europe whose sadness and sorrow have been shared by all who know and revere her Eugenie, the Empress of the French. She was then in the pride of her wonderful beauty, wife of a man before whom the whole world bowed empress of a proud, bright nation ; adored by those who knew her, admired and esteemed even by those who did not ; leader of the most gay and brilliant court in Europe mother of the young heir who in those days was known to the people as Dieu donne, or " God given " a lady of imperial grace and beauty, and of a kindly, gentle heart. She sat alone in the brilliant salon ; the ladies of her suite were in attendance, but she had slowly wandered away from them, and stood at one of the large windows that looked over the splendid gardens of Versailles. Her beautiful face was grave, her eyes full of shadows. Was it possible that some presentiment of the time when 3xile and sorrow, sickness and death, would take the place of royalty and magnificence; of the time when "Fair France " would be Tier home no more ; when her imperial husband would find his sepulcher on the sea-washed shores of the country which had once been his home ; when her son, the most gallant of young princes, would be slain in a foreign land ? There was no sign of these horrors coming then : the brilliant sun was shining, the skies were blue, the flowers all in bloom, the birds singing, the purple vines drooping 98 THE BELLE OF LTOK. in great bunches, the golden oranges shone in the midst of green leaves, the fountains were playing, the whole world seemed to be laughing and bright. Did she see in the far distance the shores of the land that was to be her home ? Did she see herself discrowned and reviled ? Did she wonder even then that the hands and the swords of all men were not raised to defend her I A superb piece of cloth of gold, richly embroidered in violets, lay near her ; she raised it, and sighed as her eyes fell on the violets ; then one of her ladies came to her, saying that the person to whom she had promised an audience was waiting. " I will see her here," said the empress ; and in a few minutes a stranger was ushered into the room a lady, tall and stately, dressed in deep mourning, with a face that was most peculiar and striking ; it could never have been beautiful, but it was aristocratic and intensely proud. She bowed in graceful respect to the beautiful em- press, who looked at her with kindly attention. " You are Madame de Soldana? " she said, in a gentle voice. u I am the most unhappy and most injured of women your imperial majesty ; " was madame's answer. " You think it is in my power to help you," said the empress. " Will you tell me how ? " " It lies within your majesty's power to help me greatly," said the suppliant. " With your majesty's gra- cious permission, I will explain how." The empress slightly bent her beautiful head, then, thinking it would be better to speak, she added : " I shall be pleased to listen to anything you have to say." Then Mme. de Soldana began her story gently at first, but as the memory of her wrongs came before her, she grew excited and animated. Then it became a mag- nificent piece of declamation, one that on the stage would literally nave brought down the house. Her proud face quivered with emotion, her fierce eyes literally flashed nre. She told what the Soldanas had been, of their ancient honor and glories, of their brave deeds; how they had fought in the Crusades, and on the battle-fields THE BELLE OF LTWN. 99 of France; of their honor, courage, and renown. She told of the wealth that had been theirs, of the beauty of the Ch&teau de Soldana, the grand domain of Belle d'Or; of the large revenue that had been theirs; how they were on the full tide of prosperity, and suddenly the sky darkened and a tempest raged over the land, one of those terrible waves of revolution that seem to touch no other land, swept over France. Everything was overthrown ; amongst hundreds of other noble and wealthy families whose estates were confiscated, and who were driven into exile, were the Soldanas; why it was so does not matter to this story. They were driven ruthlessly from the country, forbidden to return under pain of imprisonment, sent penniless into a strange land. Mme. la Comtesse told the whole story ; how they had struggled through long years of most bitter poverty ; how she, forbidden as she was to enter the kingdom, had returned in disguise, for she would far rather have died than have lived on in that state ; and how her only son Leon de Soldana was living in an English country town getting his living by teaching French. And he was graceful, handsome, clever, brave, gallant as a young prince ; and he, with all the gifts and graces of his family upon him, with a heart full of passionate pride and ambition, longing to serve France, longing to live as his ancestors had done before him there he was eating his heart away in the far-off English town. Then madame's fine, fierce declamation died away and tears of emotion rained down her face. In the eyes of the empress tears were shining too. Did she see a time when a brave and gallant young prince should live in exile while his heart was consumed with a passionate desire to serve France ? " And I," she said, gently, " what can I do for you, Madame de Soldana? " " Your majesty could do everything," she replied. "It was well known that when my Leon's grandfather was banished from France, he had done no wrong it was party persecution. A petition was made to King Louis Philippe to restore the estate of which he had been 100 THE BELLE OF LYNN. BO unjustly deprived : but from reasons I know not of, that petition failed. Once more," continued the mad- ame, " the friends of my family have taken up what seems to be almost a lost cause. Once more a petition is to be laid before the emperor, begging that, in nis justice and his generosity, he will restore to the ancient family of the De Soldanas the estates that were so unjustly taken from them. " I am delighted to hear it," said the empress, kindly. " Ah 1 your majesty," cried madam, " it will rest with you ! It is for that I am here." " How can it rest with me ? " said the empress. " I will do anything that lies in my power." The dark, proud eyes were fixed on that beautiful face. " Forgive me, your majesty," she continued, " if I pre- sume ; but they say here in France that that your majesty has great influence with the emperor. Will your majesty use it for me ? for my son ? for the last of a grand old race pining in exile ? You will speak for me I " The empress smiled. " If you think it will be of any use, I will do so with pleasure, madam," she said. " But are not these matters generally left to the ministers of the emperor ? " " I believe they are, your majesty," replied the quick- witted woman, " and that is why they so frequently fail, I have travelled far to lay my petition before your majes- ty. A few words from you will make it safe quite safe.''' " I will speak those words," said the empress, kindly, " and I will add to them what I think will be useful. ' " I pray Heaven to bless your majesty, and send you prosperity to the end of your days ! " cried Mme. de Soldana. With the tact and kindness always to be observed in her, the empress asked many questions about this son. It was a topic she enjoyed and the greatful, happy mother was only too well pleased to speak of him. " If my son should return to France," said Mme. de Soldana, "your majesty will have no more faithful subject." "I need them," said the beautiful empress, with a THE BELLE OF LYNN. 101 smile. " Of course, rnadame," she continued, " as your son is so young, he is not married ? " Mine, de Soldana answered: " No, your majesty, he is not married." A few more kindly words, and the proudest woman in France passed from the presence of the most beautiful and gentle. The empress remained alone for some few minutes thinking of the widow's son who was in exile, her hearr warm with love of her own boy, who bore his father's name ; and then she rejoined the little group of ladies. She spoke to them of the Soldana family. They were enthusiastic in their favor. " A noble family," " A grand old race," " Every one would be glad to see them re- stored ; " and the empress began to think in what words she should best influence her imperial husband. While Mme. de Soldana, her proud face flushed with emotion, hastened to where she could be alone. " Oh, Heaven," she cried, with upraised face and up- raised hands, " give back to us our rights that which wicked men have stolen from us give back to us our rights. I dare not think of it," she cried to herself " to see my son at Soldana, at Belle d'Or. My son, than whom no prince is more brave and true. My son my son Comte de Soldana. Then, by the mercy of Heaven, he will not be the last of the Soldanas; the old race will live on." Such fierce exultation, such triumph, were never surely seen on any human face. My son shall marry the noblest lady in the land, he shall reach higher than any Soldana before him has done. My son ! My son ! " Then she tried to calm her vehement emotion. It could not be just yet she must wait some short time, at least. So great a work could not be done in a day, but she had the empress' promise, and on that she would rest her heart rest her heart. 102 THE BELLE OF LYNH. CHAPTER XX. IN those days fair France knew many vicissilrades. The emperor was just and generous, when it was possible to do so , nothing pleased him more than to set a wrong right, to restore to friends, home and country those who had been unjustly deprived of all. In many instances he had granted the petitions laid before him ; he had re- stored from exile and relieved from poverty the heads of many noble houses ; still, the friends of the Soldanas felt great anxiety before the affair was laid before his majesty. He might refuse ; he might say there had been too many restorations, and that some amongst those to whom he had given honor and wealth had not been his friends ; he might say that he had done enough ; he might, if he so chose, bring forward a hundred reasons why that par- ticular petition should not be granted, so that they hesitated and were anxious ; hence the number of letters that went to Sweetbrier Cottage. Sometimes they were full of hope, and repeated something the emperor had said which augured well for their suite ; again, there was bad news, something had been said which dampened their hopes. Leon suffered terribly during that time ; he would not say one word to his beautiful young wife about the matter then ; if it were all a disappointment, if it ended in nothing, then she would not suffer what he had suffered tortures of suspense; if it ended well and happily, so much the better for him ; he should have t-h delight of surprising her, the pleasure of witnessing her surprise. And what would the angry miller say then, when his daughter would be known as the Countess de Soldana ? " But I shall forgive him," said the young heir to him- self. " I shall forgive him. If all my day-dreams come true, and the petition is granted, I may even invite him to Belle d'Or, and show him that Frenchmen know how to live as well as Englishmen." But no word did he say to Lima. He did not want to THE BELLE OF LY1TO. 103 shadow her face with the great deep thoughts that surged through his own heart. He did not want her to go through the fears and hopes that never left him. Time enough to tell her when he should know for certain him- self. Then came a hurried letter from his mother, bidding him hasten to Paris, for she herself was about to solicit an interview with the empress, and it was as well that he should be at hand. From that interview Mme. de Sol- dana came flushed with triumph she felt sure of suc- cess. The empress was interested, the battle was won. She would have been more delighted still had she known what took place between the illustrious pair. The em- press lost no time in redeeming her promise ; she watched the face of her royal husband to see when would be the most auspicious time. When she saw his face thoughtful and grave, she knew the subject would be inopportune. But there came a day when the emperor sought the em- press in her own boudoir, to show her some superb photographs that had just arrived from England. He lingered in that magnificent room. If ever man could forget the cares of state, the weight of an empire, the burden of a crown, in looking at a beautiful face, he must have forgotten it in looking at hers. There was a Bmile on his lips and in his eyes. Just at the moment when the empress was about to present her petition, the Prince Imperial entered the room. He had come to ask some favor of his mother, the empress. The boy would have withdrawn when he saw that his imperial parents were talking, but the emperor, who had a passionate love for his son, bade him enter. Then followed one of those happy intervals that come at times even in the troubled lives of sovereigns. Father, mother, and child talked together as though there were no state affairs, no " tears on the diadem." The boy's bright face and quick, clear speech delighted the em- peror. The three so soon to be parted ; the thoughtful, noble father ; the beautiful, gracious mother j the bright, clever 104 THE BELLE OP LYNN. child ; the shadow of exile and death hung over them, but they were quite unconscious of it. When the Prince Imperial had made his request and the empress had granted it, the boy withdrew. The emperor looked after him with eyes that were full of love and pride. " If anything happened to him," said the empress, " how it would overshadow our lives." " Nothing will happen to him, I trust," said the em- peror ; " he is the hope of France." " Every house has its hope," said the empress gently. " Sire, I know another mother, who, like me, has one eon, the last of his race, the only hope of a noble house, and he is in exile a son, perhaps, like ours." " She has been to me, this noble unhappy woman, and asked me to plead with yon, sire, that when the petition for his restoration is presented, you will take a merciful view of it. " She made me I cannot tell why think of myself ; and her son I know not why makes me think of my eon." " I hardly see the comparison," said the emperor, with a smile. " You are the most beautiful empress in Europe, and our son is the Prince Imperial of France." " I cannot tell," said the empress, half sadly, " why it is so. I should feel happy and relieved if you could re- store this widow and her son to their rights." The emperor did not see then the time so soon coming when the beautiful imperial woman who shared his digni- ties would be a widow and an exile, and the son whom he loved with pride and tenderness be slain by a mean toe in a distant land; no faint shadow of such a future ever came to him, yet he, like the empress, felt a strange attraction to the widowed mother and exiled son. " Of course the boy is young? " said the emperor. " Nearly twenty, I understand," replied the empress. " And not married yet ? " continued the emperor. The empress smiled as she remembered madame's face when she asked the question. " Certainly not married," she replied. " You wiH think favorably of it, sire I " THE BELLE OP LYNN. 105 " I will not forget when the petition comes before me on which side your wishes lie," he said, gallantly, and then the beautiful empress knew that her cause was won. In the small salon of a small house in the Rue de Sevres, mother and son sat together, talking eagerly. The face of Mme. de Soldana was wonderful to see so proud, so determined, yet so terribly worn and anxious. She could not rest. She sat down, then rising hastily, pushed the chair impatiently away, walking with quick footsteps up and down the room. " To-morrow, to-morrow ; think of it, Leon. How ehall I wait, how shall I live ? " " You must control yourself, mother," said the young count. " You will make yourself ill." " I cannot," she said. " Only think of it, Leon. I have lived in poverty all my life, and in exile during the greater part of it, and now the gates of Paradise are opening to me; I, who have never had a roof of my own ; I, who have never lived in anything but the smallest and cheapest of cottages, may soon be mistress of the chdteau, or of Belle d'Or." ' When his mother uttered those words, Leon suddenly remembered the beautiful young wife at home, she who had called herself Lima of the lime trees; surely she would be mistress of his home, and not his mother. He looked up at her in such quick, vivid surprise, that madame paused in her rapid walk. " What my son ? " she asked ; but suddenly there came in his mind a conviction of how much pain it would give her, how completely it would spoil her triumph, suppos- ing that triumph to be won. No he would not tell her just yet that his wife, not his mother, should be mistress of his home. If there were no triumph, if he must return to his teaching, and she go back to her abode, then there would be no need to tell her, it would but add to her pain. Already he had begun to perceive that between a woman of his mother's class proud, patrician and imperial and his beautiful young Lima, there was a difference and a distance that nothing could bridge. He saw it with dismay tkat no words could express : 106 THE BELLE OF LYNN. but just at this Juncture there was no time even for thinking of it. He must arrange everything after the great event ; everything must give way to it. " Oh, Leon, Leon ! " cried inadame, with flaming eyes, " only think if I have my title, Madame la Comtesse de Soldana. I have lived for it, prayed for it, shed bitter tears for it ; my heart lias been consumed with passionate longing for it, and now the cup is at my lips. Oh, Heaven, most merciful, grant that it may not be dashed away ! " She grew calmer after a few minutes. Going to her son, she laid her hands on his shoulders. " Leon," she said, gravely, "if we were to lose now, it would kill me. I should die." He was almost afraid of her, this bright, princely young man; afraid of her proud face, that seemed to have nothing in it but pride ; of her eyes, that flashed fire ; of her intense passionate determination ; of her fearless manner. " She is like the English Queen Elizabeth," he said to himself. He had not been long with her before he felt that her nature was prouder, more resolute, more determined, more obstinate than his own before he felt that she was gaining an ascendancy over him, and that once gained, it could never be lost. " To-morrow brings life or death to me," said madame. " To-morrow I shall either remain the poverty-stricken homeless exile that I am now, or shall I be Madame la Comtesse de Soldana. Oh, Leon, and you can look com- posed ! " " I am not composed, mother," he answered, gently. : ' I feel it just as much as you do ; it means as much to me, but I must meet the blow if it falls." " I could not, I could not," cried madame. " I shall die mad if he refuses, but Heaven would not be so cruel as to give us this gleam, this shining gleam, of magnifi- ceat hope and then take it from us. Heaven itself could not be so cruel, Leon. Tell me what you think. Do yon feel that we shall be restored to our own again, or THE BELLE OF LTNH. 107 CHAPTER XXI. THE petition laid before the emperor for the restora- tion of Leon Comte be Soldana to his country, his estate, his revenues, was well supported. Most of the ministers signed it; they were always pleased when their royal master performed an act of munificence, which, while it added to his dignity and honor, did not detract from their gains. Many of the heads of the old royalist families had signed it, together with some of the most eminent men in France, and the emperor thought deeply over it. He had but to say the word, and the ChAteau de Soldana, Bell d'Or, and the L'Hotel d'Or, with their rich revenues, would be given back to the heir ; from a poor exile he would become a rich nobleman and a friend to the empire, and the emperor was wise enough to know that it was not possible to have too many friends. He thought and pondered over the matter for some little time. There seemed to be no reason why he should refuse. Evidently the man who was banished had done nothing more criminal than offend against the prejudices of the then existing government. It was only just that what had been taken from him should be given back to his heirs and successors. An emperor's nod an emperor's " Yes ! " How much depended on it ! If the emperor could have seen behind the scenes if he could have beheld the handsome and gallant young count, his face pallid with emotion, his eyes shadowed with anxiety, or the proud, imperious woman, whose suspense was like a flame, burning her heart and soul away, he would have been touched. He decided, after having most carefully discussed the matter, that he would grant the petition ; that the young lord of Soldana should be restored to his country, his titles, his estates, and his revenues ; that he should be received at court with all proper dignity and respect. The ministers 108 THE BELLE OF LYNN. highly applauded his decision. The emperor felt that he had done a just and generous deed. He hastened to tell the empress, who was as pleased as himself. "You will have the widow and her son, the young count, at court soon," he said, " and you must be extra kind to them, to atone, as far as possible, for all they have suffered." " The young count will be quite a prot6g6 of mine," said the beautiful empress, and in her neart she resolved to bring him forward as much as was possible. The morrow had dawned for the two who waited in such a dire agony of suspense. Madame's face was white and drawn as pain and age could never have drawn it. " To-day, to-day ! " she hissed rather than spoke " to- day brings life or death!" They knew that the petition was to be presented at noon, when the emperor was in the audience-chamber, and noon had long passed. " Mother," cried Leon, " let us go out ! Let us go into the street into the fresh air anywhere ! I cannot bear this room I am stifled ! " " So am I ! " cried madame ; " but I will not leave ! If there be any message it will be sent here, and I should not like to be absent." Two more weary hours, still no messenger. Madame's face had grown ghastly during this terrible watch ; then, at last, the messenger came. " The emperor has granted the petition, praying that the Count de Soldana might return to France and take possession of that which should have been his father's inheritance." There were numberless legal formalities to be carried out ; but they do not belong to the story. The one great fact remained, the Count de Soldana held his own, never to lose it again. Madame gave one cry. She was a woman of iron nerves and iron will, but when she heard that message she fell, for the first and only time in her life, into a dead swoon. When she recovered she was lying on a hard conch io THE BELLE OF LYNN. 109 the humble little salon, and her son knelt weeping by her side. " Is it true ? " she whispered " true that we have gained all ? " " All, mother," he said. " The emperor has been most kind. I wish that it had happened while my father lived." " So do I," she said ; " but Leon, you, my son, will do for me all that he would have done. I have longed so eagerly all my life for power and pleasure and rule. Now all can be mine. I did not think I cared so much. See, Leon how my hands tremble, and I cannot see ; there is a great mist over my eyes. It has shaken me terribly, jet I stand in my own right at last." It was strange that, in spite of her devotion to her son, of her motherly instinct, her first thought now was for herself. She thought more of the fact that she was to be mistress of Belle d'Or than that he would be master. She thought more of the fact that she was to be wealthy and powerful than that he was to be the same. Perhaps long, grinding years of poverty and exile had something to do with it. " You must try and quiet yourself, mother," said the young count. " You will have a fever if you are not more careful." " I am well now, Leon," she said. " It was the suspense that tried me." He was very gentle, very kindly with her, but all the time he knelt by her side he was thinking of his wife. "What news for her Lima, Countess de Soldana why, it was like a romance, and what a beautiful, what a peerless countess she would make. It was said that some of the most beautiful women in Europe were to be found in the court of the Tuileries, but she would outshine them all. He must not tell her just yet, not until everything was settled and arranged with his mother. The eventful day closed at last, but not before Madame la Comtesse had written a letter of most grateful thanks to the beautiful and gentle empress. Long days and weeks passed. The young count wrote to the principal of the college, saying that most import*- 110 THE BELLE OF LYNN. ant business detained him in France, and he should not be able to return to resume his teaching at the college, but he did not say what the business was. He wrote often to his wife, always the same things : he had important business on hand, which he could not leave, but he would hasten back to her as soon as possible. He said no word to her, either, of what his business was , he intended when all was settled and arranged to return and bring her back to France then for the glori- ous surprise, and the delight of seeing Lima a countess. He sent her money, not too much, unless her suspicions should be aroused, but enough to keep her in comfort, if not more. She wondered greatly over it, but all the same was glad to receive it. The day came it was spring then, and the lovely land of France was half buried in sweet blue violets when mother and son took possession of the grand old chateau of the Soldanas ; a magnificent building full of historical interest and natural beauties ; their reception was a quiet one, but the people were none the less pleased to see the old race restored. Madame la Comtesse was a changed woman. She had never been beautiful, but youth and happiness had come back to her. Her proud face was softened, her manner was more gracious and tender. There at the chateau her son seemed to take his right place, although his delight in seeing her rule was so great to him that he never in the least degree interfered with it He could hardly realize to himself how completely in a few days, even, he had fallen into the habits of It grand seigneur. He might have lived at the chateau all his life, he fell so soon into the ways and fashions of it. There had been no grand public reception when the young count and his mother took possession of their own ; but as soon as they had settled their visitors flocked in, all full of congratulations ; delighted to see the Sol- danas back once more on their own territory, delighted to welcome in their midst the stately, patrician lady, who, if she were not beautiful, had a statuesque grace of her own even more imposing than beauty, and the young THE BELLE OP LTNK. Ill heir who was handsome and gallant as a young prince. Every one who saw him men, women, and children loved him ; his handsome, open face, his bright eyes and fair hair, his stalwart figure, that with the strength of a soldier united the ease and grace of a prince ; every one loved him, women and children trusted him, he very soon became a popular favorite. He took back with him to that fair land of France all the good results of English training. He liked all athletic sports ; he could ride as few men could ; he was a sure marksman, an expert angler, and though he was younger than most of his neighbors, they looked up to him with a degree of re- spect and deference that was at least unusual. The ladies admired him even more enthusiastically; his fair frank face won them completely. They said that in features he resembled Henry IV. of France. His mother rejoiced in the comeliness and grand physical beauty of her son. Comte de Soldana had wished at first to go to Paris, but his mother objected. She seemed to retain some fear of the great city, where its rulers could take a fortune from a man and send him penniless from country and home. " We shall be safer in Belle d'Or, Leon," she said, with a shudder, " much safer. People will not think so much about us if we live at Belle d'Or quietly for a time. If we are prominent objects in Parisian society, who can tell what may happen ? " And though he laughed at her fears, he felt that they were real, and respected them. So to please his mother, whom he feared as well as loved, the young count consented to remain some time at JBelle d'Or. 112 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER XXII. THE beautiful chateau of Belle d'Or was BO called from the profusion of yellow flowers that grew around and near it, From the green landscape around, it shone out almost like a golden plantation. In the early spring there were thousands of graceful daffodils and lenton lilies, yellow crocuses, tulips of every shade, from palest to richest amber, Gloire de Dijon roses whose heads seemed heavy with their own beauty, golden amaranths and asphodel. It seemed as though every yellow flower that blossomed and bloomed found a home tnere. It had been the tradition of the house for many generations that golden-hued flowers should be cultivated at Belle d'Or, and there was no more beautiful sight in the wide world than to see the golden gleam of flowers everywhere, when the sun shone on them, bringing out all their brightness and sweetness. In all fair France there was no fairer home than this of the Soldanas. The chateau itself was a large, picturesque building, all of white stone, with the towers and turrets peculiar to the architecture of French ch&teaus. It was embowered in trees; a magnificent orangery added to its attractions, a beautiful river added to its beauty. The interior of the ch&teau was magnificent. All that was of value the pictures, statues, works of art, the buhl, the marquetry, the vases of jasper and onyx were all just as the count who had died in exile left them. The young count, Leon, refurnished the whole place with the utmost luxury and magnificence. His mother was enchanted ; her boudoir was hung with superb amber velvet, and everything to match. There was no more beautiful or luxurious room, even in the royal palaces of the Tuileries or Versailles than this, and the delight of Madame la Comtesse when she saw it was great indeed. " It is my dream realized," she said to her son, with a sigh of unutterable content ; and he thought to himself THE BELLE OF LYNN. that he could not tell her just then how brief her reign must be; she was so unutterably happy, and he knew that when her rule ceased, her happiness would end with it He knew also that he was a coward in delaying to tell his proud patrician mother that he was married to an English girl of lowly birth. He would have headed a regiment and would have dashed, sword in hand, througl the serried ranks of the foe ; he knew no fear, but nc shrunk from looking in that proud, statuesque face and telling her that he was married. Let her be happy in her own fashion for a short time ! Then he would bring his beautiful English wife home ; but he never deceived himself ; he never said to himself that his mother would in time love his wife he knew already that could never be: the nature of both differed so essentially, it could never be. He looked at her sometimes, wondering in what words ne should tell her wondering almost that he ever dared to marry, realizing at last how grave and serious was the step he had taken. He had not given one thought to its graver aspect. He had fallen madly in love after the fashion of the Soldanas. He had married the girl he loved, and thought no more about it. Now the consequences of that marriage looked him in the face. He did think once or twice that if he had known of what was to happen, he would have deferred his marriage not that he loved Lima less, but that he could see so plainly that what was fitting for the poor French refugee, the poor teacher, was out of place with the lord of Belle d'Or. Still he thought with love and longing of his beautiful young wife. He satisfied his heart and his conscience by writing to her continually, by sending her money, by sending her little presents, always saying that he was hurrying over his business and would return as soon as it ended. He bade her be of good cheer and keep a light heart, for he should be home soon, and then they would never be parted more. She waited for him in sorrow and tears, while his life 114 THE BELLE OF LTNW. U was so full of excitement, of gayety, and pleasure, ha hardly knew how the days passed they seemed to fly. As time wore on the fears of Madame la Comtesse began to abate. At first every unusual sound startled her. She confessed long afterward to Leon that she had never for many long weeks been free from the haunting dread that some messenger would come armed with authority to dispossess them again. She could not realize that they were living in perfect and absolute security, and that exile and poverty could touch them never more. She told him afterward what she had suffered, but she spoke no word at the time. After a few weeks they were both quiet at home, and the black, bitter past was forgotten. Madame la Comtesse gave a grand fete, which es- tablished her popularity forever, and the young count watched his mother in wonder. She had spent the greater part of her life in exile, and amongst poor people, yet, through hereditary instinct, she had the man- ner of a queen. Her grace, her courtesy, were something wonderful. u Poor mother 1 " sighed the young count to himself ; "how she must have suffered all these years; she is essentially one of those women born to rule; she finds her home and her happiness in society." Madame la Comtesse made a great impression on her guests that evening ; her tall, stately figure was draped in richest amber velvet, shaded by finest point lace, and she wore a parnre of magnificent diamonds. She looked, moved, and spoke like a queen ; her ges- tures were superb ; her voice was low and clear as a bell ; her intonation marvellously clear and refined ; her face, though not beautiful, had the dignified repose that goes always with statuesque features. Her son watched her, with infinite pride and tenderness ; the poor mother, with all these fine, high-bred instincts hidden in her heart all these years; with more fear and dread than ever, he thought of the time when the miller's lovely daughter must take the place of his queenly mother. This was the first of a brilliant series of fetes given at Belle d'Or; then return fetes were given, and for a few THE BELLE OF LYNN. 115 weeks Madame la Comtesse and fier son lived in the very atmosphere of gayety, luxury, and magnificence. "Mother," said tne youug count one morning, "you seem to have grown younger and handsomer. I could not have believed that any one could change so much." Madame looked at him, her proud eyes filled with tears. " Leon," she said, gently, " I did not know that any one could be so happy ; I did not know what life held ; I did not know that so much brightness could come into the life of one person. I am old in years, but I am young in happiness, I have had so little." " Old in years ! " he cried. " Nay, mother, that can- not be : you have not one gray hair, and the deep lines are dying away. Another month at Belle d'Or and you will not have one left. Why, mother, how old are you ? " She looked at him with a smile that was at once sweet and shy. " I was married so young," she replied. " I was only seventeen." " And I shall be twenty next month," he said. " Then you are thirty-eight. Why, that is young enough for anything. You have a long life of enjoyment before you." " I regret the many years I have lost," she said. " If I had been mistress of Belle d'Or at seventeen how I should have enjoyed it. My good fortune has come almost twenty years too late." " Better late than never," he replied, gayly. " I will tell you what you must do, mother, to make up for lost time. You must contrive to get two years' enjoyment and happiness crowded into one." Madame smiled. " I will do my best," she said. Then came to Madame la Comtesse the greatest, keenest delight of her life, being neither more nor less than an invitation from the emperor and empress to spend three days at Compiegne. She trembled with delight as she read it, and passed it to her son. " They have not forgotten us," she said. Then she looked at him thoughtfully. 116 THE BELLE OP LTN1T. " Leon," she said, " I hope the emperor will like you." " I hope BO, too, mother," he said, brightly. " I hope you will do your best to please both emperor and empress," she added. " I have my views for you for your future, I mean. I have mapped out such a future for you, my son, as will make yon one of the first men in France, if you will follow the lines laid down." " 1 will do anything to please you, mother," he said. But he was ill at ease. " The whole honor and fortune and glory of the Sol- danas rest on your shoulders," she said, gravely. " It depends entirely on you whether what was once the most noble of the many noble families in France falls into obscurity, or whether it finds a place again in the fore- most ranks." " I know it," he said, quietly. " And you are prepared to meet the responsibility ? " she asked. " Yes," he answered. " You will let me advise, if not guide you, for the next two or three years, Leon ? " said madame " I will mother," he replied. " It seems to me," she continued, hurriedly, " that this is too bright, too beautiful to last. If anything were needed to make me perfectly happy, it was this invitation from the empress. And oh, Leon, how I do hope that there at Compiegne we may meet some fair young girl who will make a good wife lor you ! " He had opened his lips to say, " Mother, I am mar- ried ; " but looking at her wistful face, he said to himself that he would not spoil this, her first visit to court > li* would wait until she returned. \ s, X THE BELLS OF LYNN 11" CHAPTER XXIII. THREE bright, beautiful days that madame enjoyed to icr heart's content. Nothing could have been kinder ilnui the reception accorded to mother and son by the emperor and empress. The young count was most popu- lar. His mother said to herself, proudly and fondly, that he was a born courtier. The emperor, who knew well what the life of an exile in England was, delighted in talking to him of it. It was no unusual thing for the emperor to walk out with the young count while they discussed the beauties and merits of the land where both had sought a refuge. The young count knew nothing of the etiquette of court, and it was for that reason the emperor liked talking to him ; he spoke out his thoughts naturally, frank, bravely ; he had not been taught to suit his words to his listener, but to express by them his own ideas. He spoke of England and France, of the differ- ences between the two nations, and the national character. He dared to say to the man who had conquered France, and ruled her in his own fashion, that France wanted more liberty ; but he agreed that the same amount of liberty accorded to Englishmen would be most injurious to Frenchmen. The ministers of state and experienced courtiers v/ondered much at the charm the emperor found in the conversation of this fair, frank young nobleman. Nor .vas the empress less pleased with him ; she praised him 3xceedingly to his mother, and these praises were most grateful to the proud lady. The empress predicted that her son would be one of the rising men in France; the happy countess agreed with her. " I shall always take an interest in his welfare," said the beautiful sovereign, and the heart of Madame la Comtesse was elated at the words. Then madame, encouraged by the kindness and grace of the imperial lady, spoke of what was now her one 118 "SL 3ELLE OF LYNF. great anxiety -it marriage his marriage, which would make or mar hi: career. The family had been so long in exile that they had in some degree fallen from the memory of the French nation. An alliance with some well-known noble race would, she felt sure, be the best way of bringing them- selves back to the remembrance of the people. The empress smiled as she listened. " You will not have much difficulty in marrying your son, Madame la Comtesse," said her majesty. " There are many fair and noble ladies in France who will favor his suit. Happy mother, to whom came no doubt of the future, no doubt but that when she pointed out a suitable wife for her son, he would at once marry She was a little struck by the fact that no matter how many beautiful girls he saw, the voung court never seemed to be attracted by any of them. The y^r.ng ladies themselves, some of them beautiful and well born, won- dered a little why no admiring glances from the fine, keen, gray eyes fell upon them why the yor.ng count's handsome face never seemed the brighter for their presence in that court, where beautiful women rule supreme, it was a noticeable fact. The young husband's heart was :till iaithful to hie wife ; no other woman had any charm for him ; he saw no beauty even in the fairesc of faces. No one there was like Lima no one could be. And while he enjoyed himself, whii- be was a welcome guest at the emperor s coart, whils he lived in the midst of luxury and magnificence, while the days for him were ^o full of novelty, of pleasure and gayety, that he could hardly count them as they passed, Lima was wearing her heart away on the banks ^l Allan Water. She had plenty of Betters from him, plenty of money : fihe could not imagine where i all came from. Every letter said how soon he was returning, but he never came. It was Christmas wh?n he lefl and he told her he should be back long before .lie leave;: were on the trees. Winter had passed and gone; spring with its tender blossoms, >iad come and gone ; summer was here, with its wealth of THE BELLE OF LYNN. 119 roses ; still he had not come. She had lost none of her faith in him, none of her love for him, but she was desolate and lonely. The principal of the college, who had always taken a lively interest in her, came to see her on the morning when he received the letter snying that Leon de Soldana would not be able to return to his duties at the college. Not knowing the reason, the principal deeply regret- ted. " I am sorry that he is not returning to us," he said ; " my boys will never get on so well with any one else ; they were much attached to him." Lima smiled ; she remembered how her husband had epoken of the " sturdy British boys." " Do you know," asked the principal, anxiously, " what he is going to do ? " " No," she answered, " I have not the least idea." That there was any thought of his restoration to France and to his estates, they had not the faintest or most distant dream. " If you do not think it intrusive, 1 should like to ask what he says to you about returning, and his future. I should not like to lose his services, if I can possibly help it." The smile on her sweet face was a sad one, as she answered : " He always says the same thing to me that he shall return as soon as his business is ended ; but he never writes of what he is doing, or of the future," and the principal looked at her with some little wonder. " Do you not think it strange? " he asked. Her face flushed and her eyes drooped. " It is his way," she said, quietly ; " and I trust him." " So do I," said the principal, " yet, none the less, I think his conduct strange. You must be very lonely here ? " he added. " Yes, I am," she said. " May I ask you further if your father is reconciled to you yet ? " he continued. " No, and I fear never will be," she answered. " J 120 THE BELLB OF LYNN. wish it were BO. It would be a great consolation to me if I could see them." " You must be lonely," he repeated, thinking to him- self how sad it was that this girl, so young and so lovely, should be left here alone and unprotected. " If I knew where that young Soldana was I would write to him and give him a piece of ray mind," thought the principal. " He ought either to have left her in the safe shelter of her own home, or to take care of her in the one he has made for her. And the miller, too, I should like to tell him what I think of him to avenge what he considers his wrongs on a child like this." " If you are in trouble, he said, somewhat abruptly, " come to me." " I will," she answered, simply ; and she pondered long over those words after he had gone away. " In trouble." What trouble was ne thinking of ? What did he foresee for her that he should utter snch words? True, she was very lonely, very desolate; her days and nights were full of weariness. But he would come back, as he said, and they would never be parted more. Up to this time she had never known a fear that he would not return. It had not occurred to her ; but her heart was heavy that evening as she walked the banks of Allan Water. The water was shining like gold in the light of the setting sun. This time last year, when the golden glow lay on the shining waters, and on the green lines, he had been there with her only a year ago. It seemed* to her that she could hear her own voice floating over the stream, and singing always the same sad song " On the banks of Allan Water, Where the sweet spring-tide did fall, Was the miller's lovely daughter, Fairest of them all. For his bride a soldier sought her, And a winning tongue had he, On the banks of Allan Water None so gay as she." THE BELLE OF LTHK. 121 Those sad, sweet words would haunt her : " For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he, On the banks of Allan Water None so fair as she." Ah, these words were true ! None were so sad as she. Across the water she could see the dear old home, with its red roof, and the blue pigeons flying about their cote. Across that broad, bright sheet of water were the parents who had loved her so dearly. Her heart yearned toward them ; but she knew it was useless to appeal to her father. She was so completely alone, and her heart so full of love suddenly, as she stood watching the waters and thinking of the time when Leon had rowed her over this wide, beautiful mere, there came to her mind these words : u May the curse of the disobedient rest with you, and follow you wherever you may go ! " Although the sun was shining brightly, and the warm summer wind was laden with perfume, she shivered aa one struck with mortal cold. " The curse of the disobedient ! " Surely it was not that which had fallen on her now. It was not that which had left her in the first year of her married life a lone woman, desolate, and with an aching heart. She stretched out her arms to the golden waters. " Oh, father, take back that curse ; oh, Heaven, do not let it fall on me." "Would would it fall on the beautiful, gentle head, and would it take that terrible shape that her huibtnd would never return to her I THE BELLS OF LYNX. CHAPTER XXIV. WHEN the young Count of Soldana returned to his estate of Belle d'Or his whole being seemed changed. That glimpse of the glories of a court, that close associa- tion with the greatest men of the day, that familiarity with the greatest luxury and the greatest magnificence of which the world can boast, had changed him. He be- longed by birth to this new order of things ; his ancestors had been honored by the friendship of sovereigns. The past seemed to fall from him the black, bitter past, all poverty and humiliation; the very memory of it died from him. He seemed to live only in the present, only to have lived since he came to Belle d'Or. He returned with his mind full of grand thoughts and noble aspira- tions. " He would never be content," he said to himself, " with a life of pleasure ; he would work hard for France; he would make the name of Soldana famous throughout the empire ; he would bring back more than the ancient glories of the old name, more than its ancient honors." His heart thrilled with ambition ; a passionate longing for honor and glory seized him. He longed for war that he might distinguish himself as a great warrior; he longed to fling himself into the arena of politics, to be a great leader, an eminent statesman, a famous orator. " Anything, anything ! " he said to himself, with a toss of his handsome head. " The only thing to which I can never submit is to remain * nothing.' " He had been well content when he first came to Belle d'Or with the novelty of his situation, with the power and luxury he enjoyed there, but that would never content him again. A new soul was aroused in him ; fiery ambition, the longing to be greatest even amongst great men all of which had lain dormant with him ; but circumstances repressed rather than drawn out these characterietica. THE BELLE OF LTNH. 123 Ambition was not of much use to the poor teacher of French, who had been advised to hide his title lest it should lay him open to great contempt. But now, that fiery and predominant passion surged in his soul. A rich man, that was all very well, but he wanted to be a great man. And while heart and soul were given up to these ideas he never thought of England, of the cottage at Lynn, or of the beautiful young wife waiting there for him. If he did, it was with something like a passing shadow ; but one morning came a long letter from Lima, and all her heart was in it. She told him how she missed him, how lonely and sorrowful, how sad and desolate she was. She reproached him, but her reproaches were so gentle, so tender, they were more like loving words. " I cannot help thinking, Leon," she wrote, " that I ought to be first, not last, that I ought to come before business, no matter how important it is. You left me more than six months ago, and my life has been one longing for you ever since. Leon, if you cannot return to me, may I come to you ? I do not care to live away from you any longer ; tell me that I may come." That letter startled him, and he was amazed to find how, in this thrilling hour of his triumph, he had almost forgotten his fair young wife. How vividly she rose be- fore him, her fair sweet face with its dainty, healthy bloom ; her golden hair, which had caught the brightness of the sun ; the lovely eyes, always full of love and bright as stars ; the tall, graceful figure, always draped in blue or white. How plainly he could see her standing on the banks of Allan Water, shading with her white hand her eyes from the light of the sun ; he could almost hear the sweet voice calling " Leon, Leon ; " he could hear the sweet sad words of her favorite ballad floating over the mere. " On the banks of Allan Water None so gay as she," She would not be gay now ; the beautiful face would have lost its bloom. Ah, well, lie must think of her : he must tell his mother of his marriage, and he must bring his wife home. 124 THE BELLE OF LYNN. Yet he, who longed to be a great general, who longed to be an eminent statesman, and to make his name a power in the land, he was afraid to tell his proud patri- cian mother what he had done ; he was afraid to tell her that he had married a miller's daughter, though she was fair as a flower and bright as a sunbeam. He knew the terrible grief and pain it would cause her ; he knew that it would spoil her life, mar her triumph, and destroy all her new-found pleasure. He hated the very thought of causing her pain, he was so deeply touched by her happiness and keen enjoyment of all the good things that had come to them. Still she must be told in a short time ; let affairs grow more settled yet. He might even run over to England to see her ; but he, the lord of Belle d'Or, shrunk from returning, even for an hour, to the scene of his poverty and exile He loved Lima, but he began to admit to himself it was just possible that his marriage had been a mistake ; he would not, even to his own thoughts, admit more than that. His sweet, simple Lima was no more like these stately patrician ladies than a wild flower was like the queen of the conservatory. She would be out of place at the Court of the Tuileries, or the Palace of Versailles. He felt that he had in great measure embarrassed him- eelf and complicated his own fate. He loved Lima, but at the same time he felt that he would have been much happier had he been free. He wanted to please his mother and make her happy. He knew that what he had to tell her would make her wretched for life. " It would have been better even if I had told hei quite at first," he said, to himself. He was riot the happiest of men with this secret hanging over him. He contented himself for the time by writing a loving letter to Lima, and telling her he should soon be there. Then, in the flush of his grand aspirations, he forgot her again. Even had he been there, it was not to her that he would have turned for sympathy in these new thoughts and ideas. She was his love connected in his mind with beautiful pictures of Allan Water, and of flowers, ol THE BELLE OF LYNN. *2 sunshine and blue skies; but she had no connection whatever with his newly awakened ambition or his present life. It was to his mother he turned for sympathy. She listened to him with a rapture of delight. " Leon," she cried, " you are just what I wished yon to be ; you carry out my own thoughts. When we had been parted so long, and I wondered so much what you would be like if we met again, I always hoped you would be just what I find you are. I can give you no greater praise than that." " You can give me none sweeter, mother," he answer- ed, kissing her hand. " I want you to be a great man," she said "a man whose name will live in the memory of France. I am glad you are ambitious, Leon ; no man ever makes a career who is not ambitious." " I believe that," he said ; but it is just possible that he might have learned nobler and better lessons from his mother. " I have been thinking, Leon," said Madame la Comtesse, " that we ought to go to Paris for some months. Belle d'Or is delightful, nothing could be better, but you must be more in the world. I have lost my fear of Paris now, and shall be glad to go there. "We must refurnish the Hotel d'Or, then my highest ambition will be grati- fied. I shall be queen of a salon. I shall gather a circle of the most eminent men in Paris around me. Oh, Leon ! I long for the life, and you, my son, with your talents and forgive me your beauty, you may reach the highest position that any man can aspire to. I long for the time to come, Belle d'Or is so beautiful, but so quiet. I long for brilliant Paris, and to be floating down the stream. Are you willing, Leon ? " she asked. " I am more than willing," he answered. " After Cotnpie^ne, I shall not care so much for seclusion again." " And, Leon," said his mother, " while we are discuss- ing the subject, I wish to speak a few most serious words to you on the great event of your life your marriage. As I have told you," she continued, " that event will make or mar your life. You must marry into some noble 126 THE BELLE OF LTN7T. family well established in France ; a family that has hold of the nation, as it were a wealthy family; a family whose influence and aristocratic connections will be of use to you. You understand, Leon ? " " I understand," he said, slowly. Should he tell her now ? Alas, poor mother, must he destroy all her hopes and plans at one blow ? Alas, poor Lima, must he keep her at a distance and know she was unhappy ? He asked himself if ever man's heart was torn before between mother and wife. " I was much gratified," continued Madame la Com- tesse, " by the interest the empress expressed in your marriage. His face flushed with pleasure. "Did she? It was very kind of her," he replied, inwardly wondering what that imperial lady would say when she heard that he had married a miller's daughter. " That is one reason why I am so anxious to go to Paris," she continued. " We shall go often to court, and in Paris you will see the daughters of the oldest and noblest families in France. I hope, Leon, that when you were in England you did not imbibe the absurd English ideas of marriage ? " " How absurd ? " he asked, briefly. " I mean marrying for love or any nonsense of that kind," answered madame. " I look upon the fashion of marriage as it exists in England, almost as a disgrace to the nation. Our notion of marriage is much better. Two young people well suited in fortune and position, the whole anair managed by their friends, and no non- sense about love. You must allow me to arrange youi- marriage, Leon." He turned from her with something that sounded like a groan. THE BiLirj OF LTNH. 127 CHAPTER XXV. one who lias studied life knows what life in Pans is; a delirium of delight, a dream of wonder, a daze of splendor, a time never to be forgotten. When he first plunged into it, the young count was lost. Its delights, its thousand charms, its fascinations, even its perils and dangers have a charm that belong to no other city. It is true that at times a torrent of crimson blood stains its streets, that a mad wild mob burns, destroys and slaughters. It is true that men and women have danced round the scaffold where king, queen, the noblest and fairest in the land, perished ; true that there runs ever an under current of wild, fierce revolution, but for all that, Paris stands by itself the fairest, brightest, most brilliant city in the wide world. It was all novelty to the young count. The brilliant gayety, the fashion, the luxury, the magnificence of Paris- overwhelmed him; he was dazed, he could not under- stand it. At first he hardly thought of anything else ; operas, theaters, balls, court entertainments, were all novelties to him ; at first he thought he would go to the opera every night : that he should never weary of sweet sounds. Then the balls were so brilliant he gave them the preference he was bewildered by so many pleasures. "To think," he said to himself, "that life held all this, and I did not know it." There was no one in all Paris so courted, so popular, or so feted. Life was all sunshine, all brilliancy ; and when it was known that the young Comte de Soldana was one of the greatest favorites at court, his popularity was increased. Madame la Comtesse watched in silence. She had the great sense to understand that it must be so, that he must go through the intoxication of pleasure ; and then his ambition, his grand and glorious desires and wishes, would all return to him. It was so; he had great faults this gallant young 128 THE BELLE OF LYNN. count ; he was weak in submitting so entirely to hii mother, weaker still in keeping his secret from her, but he was not a man whom mere pleasure could ever con- tent : his ambition was too great. A few weeks of bewilderment and intoxication, then the old desire awakened. It was in September then : a few more weeks and he would have been a whole year absent from Lima. He was beginning, and with good cause, to feel most miserable, and to feel that his secret was a burden he could not bear much longer. No success could have been greater than that of Madame de Soldana. She was mistress of the most magnificently furnished house in Paris. She had drawn round herself a circle of the noblest and wisest men, of the most distinguished and beautiful women. Princes, artists, great writers, men of eminence crowded her salon : her statuesque grace, her patrician manner, her wonderful wit and talent attracted them. She was the kind of a woman worshipped in Parisian society, and she enjoyed her reign. There came a morning when madame sought her son, her face bright and animated. He was seated in a room that had been fitted up en- tirely for his own use ; all the things he valued most were there his favorite pictures and books ; a beautiful room, with a richly painted ceiling and superb carvings, long windows that opened on to a small but exquisite garden; a fountain played in the midst, and roses bloomed all round. The count infinitely preferred this room to the suite of magnificent apartments which overlooked the grand garden of the Tnileries, and were considered the finest in Paris. It was here that madame found him Madame herself looked wonderfully well, almost hand some. She wore a dress that could only be made in Paris, of rich black velvet, in which some threads of gold seemed to have been woven as if by accident, with oma-' ments of dead gold. The young fellow's eyes brightened with pleasure when he saw her. He rose quickly and placed a chair for her. " What an unexpected pleasure to see you here in my oom, mother," he said. 1^ BELLE OP LYNN. 2!> " My son," said madame, with grave sweetness. " I liave good news for you." " You look like it ! " he cried. " I nave never seen you look so well or so happy." " I have never been so happy," she answered, slowly. She was an, impressive figure when she rose and stood before him, her stately form tall and erect, her black velvet robe sweeping the ground. She raised her proud face, she raised her clasped hands she looked like some magnificent tragedy queen. " I thank Heaven, my son," she said, "I have lived to see every desire of my heart gratified. It is indeed good news that I bring you. I have found the very wife for you ! If Heaven itself iud interested itself in finding a wife for you, the choice could not have been a wiser one. My son," she repeat- ed, " I bring you the best and happiest news that it IB possible to bring." For a few moments the young count was quite silent ; he looked in wonder at the superb figure of his mother, at her inspired face and clasped hands, then seemed sudden- ly to realize what she meant and what it meant for him. " I have found a treasure," she said, " a pearl beyond price I believe the one very girl in the wide world in- tended for you. She is beautiful, Leon, with a quick, proud, passionate beauty, which you adore. She is rich as lew women in France are ; she is a great heiress, and she is the only daughter of one of the oldest and most his- torical families in France. She was created I shall always feel sure of that expressly for you." He laughed, but there was a curious ring in his laugh- ter. She was too excited to noticed it. " But, mother," he cried hastily, " who is this paragon this treasure ? " " Helene de Saison," she answered, slowly. " The sole heiress of the great De Saison family. If you had no other place in the world than that of her husband, you would be one of the foremost men in France ; being what you are, and marrying her, you will be amongst the princes of the land. Her beauty is great, Leon, proud, patrician. She looks as though born to be a 130 THE BELLE OF LYNN. queen. Her wealth is enormous. There is no fortune in France much larger than hers. She inherits all the De Saisons' property. She has a rent-roll that will astonish you. What is of still more consequence to you, she is connected with the noblest families in France ; so by marrying her you will at once attain a position that years' working for could never give you ; everything will be yours at once, great wealth, great power, great fame, and a beautiful young wife. Why, Leon, you ought to go down on your knees and thank Heaven. I do not believe there is another young man in France that has such a magnificent prospect before him." Then Madame la Comtesse entered into a long descrip- tion of the De Saison family ; how their connections extended, how powerful and influential they were. Still her son sat silent. He seemed to be watching the red of the rose and the silver of the orange-blossoms. Ever afterward he detested those two flowers, but he was wondering how and in what words he should tell her. Madame la Comtesse looked at her son. She wondered just a little at his silence. She had expected at least a cry of delight, an exclamation of pleasure, a few questions that betokened interest ; anything but silence. " You do not say anything, Leon," continued madame, " but I know you are delighted. I may tell you quite confidentially that the empress highly approves ; indeed, I know of nothing so delightful, so suitable, nothing that could have been so advantageous to you, or have given so much happiness to me." Still he looked only at the red of the rose and the silver of the orange-blossoms. Still no fear came to the mother whose brilliant hopes were so soon to be shatter- ed in the dust. Madame continued : " The empress has spoken to me about it, and I have seen Madame de Vesey, who is mademoiselle's aunt and guardian." Then he knew that he must speak, but it would have been easier for him to have slain her than to have said what he had to say, but it must be done. " Mother," he said, slowly, "do not lay any more plan* THE BELLE OF LYNN. 131 for me. I have not liked to tell you before, but the fact is I am married ! " and then silence, more bitter than death, fell over them. CHAPTER XXYI. A SILENCE that was terrible. It was as though the very sounds of nature ceased the whisper of the wind among the orange-blossoms, the falling of the soft rose- petals to the ground a terrible, blank silence. Then he took courage the words were spoken, nothing could unsay them ; they had fallen like thunderbolts on the clear summer air. The ice was broken the first step, which costs so dearly, was taken. He took courage and looked at her; but between his mother of now and his mother of five minutes since, with figure erect and out- stretched hands, there was difference great as between a living and a dead woman. Her proud face had grown white, as with the very pallor of death ; a sudden parox- ysm of horror seemed to have fallen over her ; the expression in her eyes frightened him. ATo voice even from a sepulcher could have been more terrible than that in which she repeated the one word : "Married!" The ice was broken now, and he could go on. " I ought to have told you long enough ago, mother," he said; " but I knew that whenever you heard the news it would make you miserable, so I have delayed it as long as I dared." " Married ! " repeated madame, in the same terrible voice. " I will not believe it it is not true ! " " It is true enough, mother," he said, gravely. " I wish I could have spared you all such pain." He went to her, but he saw that all the strength had gone from her ; the tall, erect figure was trembling and drooping ; all the grace and majesty seemed to have left it. She sunk on the couch that stood near the window, and seemed to lose almost the life that sustained her. He looked At her in wonder ; it was hardly possible that 132 THE BELLE OF LYNtf. this pallid, drooping, ghastly-looking woman was his stately mother. "Mother," he cried, "do not I cannot bear to see you look like this do not look so wild, so desperate. Indeed, when you see her " But madame rose from her seat with a gesture of passionate pride and despair ; she cried : " Hush ! You do not even understand. Hush ! " " I do understand," he replied, with dignity. " Since I have known you, mother, since I have lived with you, I have foreseen what pain it would give you. I under- itand." Then, with a cry that seemed to cleave the air and the bright sunlight and rise even to the blue heavens, she turned to him and said, with a grand gesture of unutter- able despair, " You have broken my heart ! " And the simple sorrowful words pierced his heart. He had not known how much he loved this stately, imperious mother until now, and the sight of her terrible sorrow was bitter to him. He tried to console her; he made her sit down again, and he knelt by her. " You shall not be angry with me," he said. " You have had trouble and sorrow enough in your life. Mother, I hate myself for bringing more to you. Speak to me, talk to me! You look so white and wild, and almost desperate." " You have spoiled my life," she moaned, " blighted it! ruined it!" " I have done wrong, that I do acknowledge," he said, earnestly, " but it is not so bad it is not indeed. My wife is young, beautiful, graceful, and a lady." " Your what f " she cried. " My wife ! " he answered. " Never let me hear you use those horrible words again," she cried, " never again ! " " But, mother, I must use them when I speak of her. I can speak of her by no other title. She is my wife." Madame raised her pale, haggard face to his. " Oh, my son, my son," she cried, " anything rather than this. I would almost as soon we had remained ic exile ; nothing will be of any use now. I have fought THE BELLE OF LYNN. 133 against fate and circumstances for my whole life long, but I yield now; I shall fight no more. Just at the moment of victory ! Oh, my son, my son ! " " It may not be so bad as you think," he said. " After all, I am a Soldana. I can stand on my own title, my own merits, my own fortune and influence, mother. I do not need the help of others." She wrung her hands with a despairing gesture. " You have spoiled your life," she cried. " The whole fabric lies in ruins at your feet. You have shattered the brightest dreams, you have destroyed the brightest pic- tures. Oh, my son, my son ! " He was silent for a few minutes while she sobbed out her woe. It was terrible to him to see her tears. She had been so proud, so imperial, he had never seen her weep. After a time she recovered herself and looked at him. " Tell me," she said. " Let me hear something of it, Leon. You have married an aristocrat, of course. The Soldanas have never married beneath them ; they have always chosen wives from their own class. You, the head of your house, the last of your race, you have done the same ? " " No, mother, I have not. My wife is a lady ; she is beautiful, more beautiful, perhaps, than any one you have ever seen. She is well educated and accomplished. She is the sweetest, the gentlest of human beings, but she is not what you would call a lady by birth." " Perhaps, then, she has a great fortune ? " said ma- dame. " No, she may have money at some future day but nothing that we should call a fortune." " Then, probably," said madame, with icy dignity, " she has great connections influential relations ? " " No," he replied again ; " she has none." And then he felt something like fear ; his eyes droop- ed ; he dared hardly look in that proud, despairing face. " She has no rank, no money, no influence 1 Why did you marry her, Leon ? " The broad, beautiful stretch of Allan Water seemed to rise before him ; he saw the green grass, the sunlit water, 134 THE BELLE OF LYNN. the green banks, and on the banks he saw the face and figure of Lima, his young wife. '' Why did you marry her? " repeated madame. " An- ewer me that question." " Because I loved her," he replied ; " loved her with all my heart." An expression of infinite contempt crossed her face. " I thought as much," she said, bitterly. " That absurd nonsense called love ; and for that you have ruined a life that was full of fairest promise ; for love, the weakest and most foolish of passions." " I found it stronger than death, mother," he answered. " Yes, because you yielded to it weakly yielded. I would have trampled a thousand such passions under my feet. You have sacrificed the glory of a whole race the brightness of a whole life." " Do not misjudge me, mother," he said, humhly. ** Remember that when I did this, there had never been a question, a hope of our restoration ; remember that I had not a hope beyond spending the remainder of my life teaching at Lynn, and she oh, mother ! when I saw her when she came into my life so beautiful, so fair, so loving she brightened it so that I could not live with- out her." " Absurd ! " cried madame ; " a man whose hopes and thoughts ought all to be centered in France." " But France would not have me, mother, in those days," he said. " Oh, mother, can you not realize what my life was so desolate, so lonely ; no friends, no com- panions, no home, no prospects; spending the snnny hours of the summer days teaching those sturdy British boys ? No one loved me, no one cared for me ; no face was the brighter for my coming, no tears would have been shed for my death." " Leon," cried madame, sternly, " I am afraid you are Sfintimental." " Are you not, mother ? " he asked, gently. " I hope not. I hope to Heaven not 1 " she cried, angrily. " Spare me ail that nonsense, if you please." He bowed, but went on : " You can imagine what a change it made in my life THE BELLE OF LYNN. 135 when she came into it ; she brightened it. I believe that in my cold, sorrowful exile I had not really lived until I knew her, and I learned to love her forgive me, mother so well " " Tell me the facts ; spare me the love ! " cried mad- ame. There was a soft, warm light in his keen gray eyes that told how the topic touched him. " I conld not have loved an ordinary girl," he contin- ued ; " but she might have been a young princess, she is so fair, so dainty. She is so beautiful that people call her * The Belle of Lynn.' ' : His heart warmed to the theme. " That was how I first came to hear of her. She was called the belle of Lynn, and, mother, listen : her home lies close to a broad, beautiful mere, known as Allan Water ; it was on its banks I met her first. " You will forgive me when you see her ; her eyes are beautiful and blue, like wet violets; her hair has the sheen of gold ; her face is the sweetest and fairest that poet could paint : " ' On the banks of Allan Water, None so fair as she.' " " I want facts, as I told you, and not sentiment ; still less, poetry," said madame, sternly. " Oh, mother, were you never young? " Madame interrupted him. " I repeat that I will not listen to nonsense. It is of the follies of your youth we are speaking, and not of mine." His face flushed hotly, but he did his best to exercise self-control; her words were hard to bear. " Mother, do not be so hard, so cruel ! " he pleaded. " I am quite sure that when you see my wife you will love her." The fine scorn and bitter contempt on madame's face were not good to see. " You forget one thing, my son," she continued : " you have gone into raptures over a pretty face, you have hown'a great deal of shallow sentiment, but you have 136 THE BELLE OF LYNN. not told me with whom Monsieur le Comte de Soldana has allied himself." " What will you say, mother, when you learn that I have married a miller's daughter?" And he turned away lest he should read too plainly the wrath in his mother's face. CHAPTER XXVII. NEVER was passion seen so terrible as that which gleamed on madame's face. " A miller's daughter," she said, slowly. " A com- mendable alliance, surely ! The last of the Soldanas, and a miller's daughter ! Had you lost your brains or your senses when you did this ? " " Neither, mother ; I had simply lost my heart," he replied. She surveyed him with infinite scorn. " A fine ending to all my plans and hopes for you," she said. " How could you be so cruel, Leon so unjust to me ? " " Do me justice, mother. Remember that I had no idea of what was about to happen," he answered. " Tell me one thing," she cried, with hasty impatience ; " if you had foreseen this change, should you then have contracted this unfortunate marriage ? " He thought for some minutes before he answered her. He loved Lima, but this new life with its pleasures and honors, was very dear to him. " Answer me 1 " cried madame, imperiously. " No," he replied, slowly, " I do not think I should. If 1 had foreseen this great change in my life, I should have left Lynn. I should not have married." Her face cleared when she heard him say this. " I am glad you have the sense to acknowledge that," she said. She seemed utterly bewildered and discomforted, quite unable to rally from what seemed to her the greatest blow she had ever received. After these few words had been spoken, she sat quite silent for some minutes brooding THE BELLE OF LYNN. 137 over her own thoughts, and madame's face was not pleasant to see. The young count, with his usual light-heartedness, began to recover a little now that the ordeal was half over. He had at least gone through the worst part of it ; the news was told. She would recover in time, he said to himself, and when she saw Lima all would be well. She could nit. fail to be won by that sweet, winsome face. This cloud would soon pass. He felt some regret that his mother's plans had been so baffled, and he thought with sorrow of all the glories that might have been his not that lie loved Lima less, but that he saw so plainly what his career might have been with all the advantages his moth- er could have secured for him. " It is too late to think of it now," he said to himself, " and, after all, I have the dearest little wife in the world." Madame la Comtesse did not leave the room ; when she finished speaking she retained her seat near the win- dow, and seemed buried in thought. Her son seemed to think it better to preserve the silence than break it. " It is a strange turn for Fate to have taken in any man's life," he thought. Then the sunny skies of France faded; the silver orange-blossoms and the fountains vanished. It was moonlight, and there was hardly a ripple on the shining breast of Allan Water ; the rays of the moon silvered the great lime trees, and he was rowing swiftly and silently across the mere. So vividly did the picture rise before him that he could almost hear the strokes of the oars. A sweet, clear voice came floating from the casement window ; he could hear the words : " For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he ; On the banks of Allan Water None so sad as she. That was his dream ; the reality was that he started to find his mother looking at him, her dark eyes, full of fire and impatience, fixed full npon him. 138 THE BELLE OF LTNN. " Leon," she said, " I want you to make me a promise. Let this most absurd of all marriages remain a secret between us for, say, at least six weeks. I have an idea. I will not tell you what it is, but I shall act upon it. In the meantime, will you promise me not to speak of it to any creature living ? " u I promise," he replied, thinking that it was not much for her to ask him after the pain he had caused her. " Remember what you are promising," she said, stern- ly. " Do not speak lightly, Leon. You gave me your word of honor that during the next six weeks you will not mention the fact of your marriage to any creature living, on or under any consideration. When you have kept the secret so long, six more weeks will not hurt you." " I give my promise* mother," he said, " on the faith and honor of a gentleman." " I am satisfied," said she. " "We will not discuss it even between ourselves. I must exact another promise that is, you will not during those six weeks go tc England. Of course, I cannot ask you not to write to the person there but you will not go ? " " I will not, mother," he said. "I am more content," said Madame la Comtesse. " This has been a cruel little interlude, Leon. You must make up to me for the heartache you have given me. Come with me to-night to Madame de Sante's ball ? " " I will go with pleasure," he said, only too delighted to bring back a smile to her face. " This, you will understand, Leon," she said, " is a truce between us a truce for six weeks; then there will be active warfare." " There can never be war between you and me, moth- er," he said, kissing the white, jewelled hands that she held out with more sign of relenting than she had hitherto shown. " A six weeks' truce," she said ; " then I shall follow out the workings of my idea." " What will that result in, mother I " he asked with a mile. THE BELLE OP LTNH. 139 u Something that will astonish you very much," an- swered Madame la Comtesse ; " but we will say no more now silence for six weeks." Then, in her most stately manner, madame left the room. The young count turned to that refuge for the Destitute a cigar ; and as he watched the rings of the olue smoke ascend, he wondered much what his mother could mean. A six weeks' truce ! Well, that would not matter so much. He must write again to Lima, and tell her that circumstances had chained him for six weeks longer, and then he would go and bring her home. But although he loved her, he did not look forward to this bringing her home with any great rapture of delight. It would all be so strange, so novel to her. It would be so long before she could take her place as Lady Chatelaine. Her, the sweet, gentle Lima, who had never known any- thing much more stirring than the banks of Allan Water, his mother would never quite agree with. Indeed, there could never be two mistresses in one house. Either his wife must reign or his mother. His wife ought to be mistress and ruler ; he knew that perfectly well, but he knew also that she must first be taught. He saw many perplexities when he did bring Lima home, but he must trust to fortune. He was most thankful that he had spoken to his mother ; the weight had gone from his heart and mind now. Madame la Comtesse wore a superb costume for the ball. When her toilet was completed she went to her son's room ; she loved the words in which he praised her. " Why, mother, you look superbly handsome," he said ; " give me purple velvet and diamonds above everything else." She did what was very unusual with her, for she was not at all a demonstrative woman She laid her arms round his neck and kissed him. " I am proud of my son," she said, and she had some reason for her words. Never did the young count look more handsome, more gallant ; the ease and grace of his figure, the beauty of his face, the charm of his gracious manner were all most attractive. He was struck by the ease with which 140 THE BELL OP LYKH. his mother had forgotten, or seemed to hare forgotten, their very unpleasant interview. He would have been surprised if he had known that she had thought of noth- ing else, and had concentrated the whole power of her mind and thoughts on that one fact alone. No one who *aw the proud patrician, with her queenly carriage and imperial bearing, could have guessed that her mind was racked with pain, and her soul darkened with a black, jgly shadow. It was a brilliant ball, as those given by Mine, de Sante always were. Some of the most beautiful and brilliant women in Paris were present. The young count enjoyed a ball ; his whole artistic nature delighted in the bril- liancy of the scene, in the superb flowers, the rich dresses, the magnificent jewels, the beautiful faces ; but to-night he saw a picture that woke all the poetry within him into sudden life. Pretty little anterooms, cozily furnished, opened out on both sides of the ball-room rooms that were daintily arranged, with plenty of flowers and lounges ; they were separated from the ball-room by rich curtains of crimson velvet, which were drawn to either side, forming an arch. The young count was looking carelessly along the ball- room when he saw this picture, which at first meant nothing more than a picture to him. The crimson vel- vet curtains were parted, and in the archway stood a young girl. She was tall and slender ; a rich dress of primrose-colored brocade fell round her in folds that would have charmed a sculptor; clouds of white lace were caught up by sprays of Mareschal Neil roses ; mag- nificent diamonds shone in her dark hair and round her white throat ; her dress was after the latest fashion the arms bare almost to the shoulder; and the first thing that drew his attention was the whiteness and beauty of the rounded arms and perfect hands; then he saw her face, and its beauty startled him. Proud, rare, flashing loveliness that had in it something half-defiant, half- imperious a face that Titian would have painted, with its rich, rare coloring ; dark, bright eves, black, yet with olden light in their depths, fringed! with dark, silken tbat were a beauty in themselves; a mouth that fHE BELLE OF LYNN. 141 would have made any woman's face rarely lovely it had the freshness, the bloom, the sweetness of a pomegranate blossom, with lines and curves of unequaled grace; a round, white throat, and a beautiful neck and shoulders, formed a picture rarely seen. " I call that a dream," said the young count to himself. He watched her intently. She seemed to be looking for some one. She glanced eagerly up and down the room, then slowly withdrew. He saw the last gleam of the diamonds, the last glim- mer of the wonderful brocade, and he roused himself with a sigh. Surely he had been dreaming a dream. CHAPTER XXVIII. FOE some time the young count did not again see the beautiful picture, as in his mind he called her; but a pause came in the dancing, and he saw her at the other end of the room talking to Mme. de Sante. If he had thought her beautiful before, how much more lovely she looked now that she was talking, laugh- ing, and animated, her eyes shining like stars, the curves of her lips so graceful as she smiled. As he looked at her he thought of Lima, and he said to himself that surely she and this stranger must be the two fairest women in the wide world. The contrast between them was great ; even as he looked at this young face he felt the different influences of their beauty. There was a sweetness and gentleness in Lima's face that instantly brought all good and holy thoughts into the minds of those who looked upon her. It was not so with the face before him; its radiance, its loveliness, its pride were conspicuous, but it gave no impression of goodness. There was something in it he could not tell what ; in fact, he never knew but there was something that left upon him an impression the reverse of good. He tried to analyze it, but found that impossible. An hour later he found himself with his mother at the end of the ball-room. He was not dancing, but the band wag 142 THE BELLE OF LYNN. playing a delicious waltz, and again he saw the gleam of the primrose brocade and the shining of the diamonds. " Mother," he asked, quickly and suddenly, " do you know who that young lady is ? " Which young lady, Leon ? There are so many." " One in a dress just the color of English primroses," he replied. "English primroses?" laughed madame. "What a comparison ! She spoke coldly, but her face flushed, and a light aa of triumph shone in her eyes. " She wears diamonds," he continued, " and carries 9 bouquet of Gloire de Dijon roses." " Quite a picture," commented madame. " That is just what I said when I saw her," cried the young count. " See, mother, she is standing by the great itatne of Flora." Madame la Comtesse carefully repressed all signs of emotion ; she answered indifferently enough. " That is Mademoiselle Helene de Saison ; " and then, as though the subject were one of perfect indifference to her, she turned away. It was the most judicious thing she could have done. If she had remained he would have overwhelmed her with questions ; as it was, she left him to think. And he did think many things. So this was Helene de Saison the girl whom even the beautiful empress said would be a most suitable match for him the girl whom his mother wished with her whole heart that he would marry, and if he had never seen Lima, if he had never wandered to the banks of Allan Water, he would have been free to marry this beautiful creature. Helene de Saison the most beautiful girl and the richest heiress in France the girl who had it in her power to make her husband one of the foremost men in France! Still no feeling of regret over his marriage came to his mind or passed through his heart. He was simoly full of wonder. He had not paid much attention to his mother's description of Helene de Saison : indeed, THE BELLE OF LYNN. 143 he had smiled to himself, thinking it exaggerated; he found it fell short. He watched her ; every gesture was quick, proud, and graceful He smiled again when ho thought how much like his mother she was and just as proud. " They would agree well," he thought to himself ; and then she was gone. He could watch her no longer, nor did he see her again that night. A curious calm seemed to fall over him ; he did not care to cance any more ; by a strange fantasy all the music played seemed to run into the old-fashioned air of the banks of "Allan Water.'* Whether waltz, quadrille, or galop were played, he could hear in his own fancy the soft, sweet strain of the ballad. Then the words would rise to his lips with such force that at times he was compelled to repeat them. " For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he ; On the banks of Allan Water None so sad as she." Why should he be compelled, as it were, to repeat those lines ? why should they haunt Kim any more than the other lines of the poem ? He was not false he had no thought of being false ; how absurd, in the midst of a brilliant Parisian ball-room, to have such fancies. He was almost glad when the ball was over; yet it struck him as being rather strange that his mother had not made the least attempt to introduce him to the girl whom she had been so anxious he should marry. He thought she might have made some little effort, but he came to the conclusion that she had given up all idea of it, so that an introduction was not needed. It was strange, too, that as they drove home, Madame la Comtesse never mentioned her. She discoursed with great animation on the beautiful women present, but the name of Helene de Saison never crossed her lips. It was in sheer desperation that he said, at last : " I thought Mademoiselle de Saison the most beautiful girl there," he said. " Did you? " replied madame, indifferently. " I admired her toilet more than any other," he said, to hear something more of her. 144 THE BELLE OF LYNN. " I did not notice it," said madame. " I thought the English embassadress the best-dressed woman in the room." No other word of " la belle Helene." "Evidently my mother has given up all thought of it," he said to himself, while madame smiled a quiet, stealthy smile that meant much. He wrote a long letter to Lima the next day. He had an uneasy, unsettled feeling upon him, as though he had unconsciously done her some wrong. The next day brought a great delight an invitation to a ball given by the emperor at the magnificent Palace of the Tuileries. The young count had never been more interested. He wondered if " la belle Helene " would be there. He longed to ask madame, but did not like. Shyly enough, at last, he said : " Mother, will your Princess Helene be at the em' peror's ball ? " In her whole life madame never felt such a thrill of triumph. He had been thinking about her evidently, and, from his question, desired to meet her again. " Why do you call Mademoiselle de Saison * my Prin- cess Helene ? ' " she asked, and the tones of her voice made the young man's face flush. " The name suits her," he said. " I always call her ' Princess Helene ' in my thoughts." " I did not know that she was in your thoughts. Why call her * my princess ? ' " " She seems to be associated in my mind with you," he replied ; " but I cannot tell why." " It is an unmeaning phrase," said madame. " In your place, I should not repeat it." " Princess Helene ought to have been her name," he repeated, good-humoredly. " Why, mother, she is the ideal of a princess." Madame made no answer; she would not, by one word, encourage him by speaking of her favorite. " You do not tell me, mother, if Princess Helene is going ! " he said. a I do mot know," was madame's answer. " I cannot eren form an opinion." THE BELLE OF LYNN. 145 She would not ask even why he wished to know, which he had quite expected. He thought a great deal of the forthcoming ball. He wondered much if he should see her ; if there would be any introduction ; if she would talk to him ; and when the evening of the ball came, he felt in some vague fashion that a new epoch in his life had arrived that a new and novel sensation had come to him. The ball, as was usual at that brilliant court, was mag- nificent. The empress had never looked more beautiful ; there was a brilliant throng of guests; the music was perfect ; the lights and flowers beautiful. It was like a glimpse of fairy-land, and the young count was lost in admiration of the magnificence of the scene. Then again he saw her, but to-day she looked paler and graver; she was with her aunt, Mme. de Yesey. He knew that it was not in accordance with French custom for a young lady to appear in public or to dress with such magnifi- cence. He came to the conclusion that mademoiselle was allowed to depart from the strict laws laid down on the subject on account of having spent much time in travel- ing, and then on account of her position. How or by whom he was introduced to her he hardly remembered. It was not by his mother, nor did he guess that his mother had not lost sight of him since he enter- ed the ball-room, and had most carefully " led up " to this event. It was most decidely a new sensation to have those dark, beautiful eyes flashing for one moment into his, then drooping as they had never done before. She seemed to be all radiance ; the light shone in her jewels ; her dress had in it something of the rich gleam of sun- beams. As he looked at her lie thought of the other fairer, sweeter face that he had seen first on the banks of Allan Water. He asked for the honor of one dance, almost hoping she would decline, for he had a certain sense of uneasiness in her presence, although he had so much longed to see her. It was not at all that he was in love with her he had no thought of love ; it was a feel- ing that, in some serious way, their destinies were crossed THE BELLE OF LYNN. Princess Helene, as he called her, was tired, and did not care to dance much. " Let us find my aunt," she said. " I should like to look at some of those pictures." But finding Mme. de Vesey was a more difficult matter than they had anticipated ; in fact, in time they had forgotten why they started. Wandering through those magnificent rooms, they talked at ease. The young count forgot his temporary embarrassment, his strange sensation of novelty, and lost himself in delight. Helene de Saison was one of the most brilliant talkers ; every one agreed that it was a treat to listen to her conversation. There was no poetry, no spirituality about it ; girls of her temperament and character have seldom much of either of those qualities, but there was a verve, a fire and origi- nality about it that charmed every man who talked to her. A touch of satire, a flash of wit, a brilliant repartee, a certain fearlessness of ideas, picturesque language, a natural flow of eloquence, made the charm of her con- versation. When the young count went home that evening it was not of her beauty he thought, but of her wonderful bril- liancy. He had not known that such women as Helene de Saifion existed. She was a new revelation to him. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 147 CHAPTER XXIX. A MAGNIFICENT room in a magnificent house in the Champs Elyees, a room furnished with such true artistic taste, such luxury, it was a pleasure to look around it ; a room filled with the fragrance of innumerable flowers, bright and charming ; the large windows overlooking bright parterres of flowers and tall, spreading, green trees. Some people said the Hotel de Saison was one of the brightest houses in Paris. A well-filled balcony of flowers stood before each window, varied in hue ; gleams of rich gold, of deep purple, of crimson and white, seemed to attract one; a house that seemed to have a smile on the front of it. In this magnificent saloon, Helene de Saison sat alone. It was the forenoon of a clear September day, and the bright sunbeams made the lovely room more cheerful still. Certainly, the most beautiful object in that room was the girl herself. She had been reading, but the volume she had held in her hands had fallen to the ground unknown to her, and she was thinking deeply ; a smile, sweet and tender, parted her lips ; in her eyes was the light that never yet lay on land or sea. Certainly a most beautiful face, a face full of pride and passion, but there was in it something that would make one hesitate before trusting her absolutely. In the curves of that beautiful mouth was there a line which suggested cruelty selfishness? In those brilliant eyes was there a gleam of pride that was dangerous? What was it that dissatisfied a keen reader of character and sent him away not well content ? Just now there was a calm over the beautiful face ; the parted lips were smiling; the girl's thoughts were deep and pleasant. She looked up when the door opened and Mme. de Yesey entered. " It is not often that I find you dreaming." Helene looked up with a smile and sigh. 148 THE BELLE OF LYNN. "That is, if you but understood it, aunt, the first dream of my life." " I hope it was a happy one, my dear," said the elder lady, smiling. "I was thinking of the ball last night," she continued, "and, Aunt Emilie, I have seen a real living hero at last." Mme. de Vesey was evidently accustomed to receiving startling communications from her niece. She seldom expressed any curiosity or alarm at any of the theories her niece advanced. " Yes," she repeated, " I have seen a real living hero, ami I thought the age of heroes was past. I have seen a Prince Charming, and I thought all the Prince Charm- ings were dead." " Who is it, Helene ? " asked Mme. de Vesey. " Monsieur le Comte de Soldana," she replied. " I talked to him for a long time last evening ; he told me all the story of his exile." " "Why do you call him a hero ? " asked Mme. de Vesey. " Why," repeated mademoiselle, with a gleam in her dark eyes, " because he is one ; he is handsome I do not believe that in all France you would find a more hand- some man he is gallant, and princely in his bearing." " All that does not make him a hero," interrupted madame. " It does in my eyes," said Helene, in her most superb fashion. " Scarcely, in the eyes of others," she replied. "Have you no better reason for calling him a hero than physical beauty and a charming presence ? " " Yes ; he has been in exile. Fancy living all those years in exile. He loves England, though ; he told me that the first night he saw me. He was struck by the dress I wore ; he said that it was the exact shade of an English primrose. I am glad he went to England, aunt, and I am glad that I speak English." " Then I am to understand that the young count is a hero because be has been in exile," laughed Mme. de Vesey. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 149 " I think him so ; but the chief reason I have, after all, auntie, for thinking him a hero, is that he is the only man I have ever dreamed about after a ball. I wa6 much struck with all he told me. At first he seemed shy and embarrassed, then, when we began to talk about England, it was quite another thing. He did not know that I had been there." " You like the young count, then ? " said Mme. de Vesey. " Yes, very much," replied Helene, frankly. " I have met no one in society who has pleased me more. Aunt," she continued, " it is a strange thing, but when I saw Mosieur le Comte I said to myself, ' if ever I marry, that is the kind of man I should like to marry.' ' " Is it ? " asked Mme. de Vesey, innocently, as though she had not discussed such a marriage twenty times over with Madame la Comtesse de Soldana. " How differently marriages are managed in England," said Helene, dreamily. " I have just been reading an English novel ; Mrs. Gaskell's ' Daughters and Wives.' I do not know whether, after all, their system is not the best." " Do you think so ? " asked madame, with a smile, which fortunately her proud and beautiful niece did not see. " I do. A French girl has no chance of pleasing herself; she has to marry the man whom her parents and friends select for her ; the last thing thought of is whether she will like him or not. It seems merely a matter of business, that he has so much money, and she has so much, and that the two sums will insure com- petency. " I think a little romance creeps in every now and then," said madame. " I do not care for romance," said the young heiress, frankly, " but it strikes me that we could imitate the English fashion with advantage." " I think, my dear, it all comes to pretty much the same kind of thing in the end," said madame, cynically. " I think mind, Aunt Emilie, I am not quite sure, but I think I like the English style best" 150 THE BELLE OF LYNN. " Since when ? " asked maaame, simply. The color deepened on the beautiful face that was a significant question " Since when ? " " I have been thinking of it this morning," she replied, quite unconscious of the manner in which she was be- traying herself and the subject of her own thoughts. " In France," said Mme. de Vesey, " when a mother lias a daughter to marry, she looks carefully around amongst her neighbors and friends. She sees some young man whom she thinks eligible ; she goes to his mother, tells her what her daughter's fortune will be, and the whole matter can be settled between them. That is the ordinary routine there are exceptional cases ; there are cases even where the young people have met as strangers, and have fallen in love with each other, and have married in spite of the opposition of all their friends and relatives. I am afraid you sympathize just a little with that ; " for Helene looked up with a gleam of amuse- ment in her eyes. " I am afraid I do," said the heiress of the De Saisons. " In England," continued madame, " a very different order of things exists. There young people have more liberty ; they meet frequently in society ; there is less restraint. You, Helene, have more liberty than any other French young lady whom I know. The young people in England meet continually; they sing and dance together; they go to parties and balls; the conse- quence is, they fall in love with each other, sometimes wisely, sometimes foolishly ; they choose for themselves, but in England there are exceptions to this rule. There are match-making mothers who look out for the most eligible men, and daughters who marry for money. Each system has its advantages." " I prefer the English," said Helene de Saison, in her most decided fashion. "Then it will be useless for me to offer any sug- gestions," said Mme. de Vesey. " There will be no ar- ranging an alliance for you, Helene ; on the other hand, I advise you strongly not to fall in love." " Why not, aunt ? " she asked. " Why, my dear, you would suffer ; your nature is not THE BELLE OF LYNN. 151 one of those, simple and sweet, that pass through life easily ; you can suffer keenest pain and keenest oleasure There is more pain than pleasure in love." " You do not seem to think much of love, aunt ! " cried the heiress. " No, my dear ; nor will you do so at my age," laugh- ed madame. It was the dearest wish of her heart that the young niece and heiress given to her charge should marry well. She had spoken to Mme. de Soldana, and, so far as they could, the whole matter had been arranged; but there was a fatal flaw in the case when the countess found out the secret of her son's marriage. Of it she had spoken no word. She had merely said to Mme. de Vesey that she thought it advisable to let the young people see a little of each other before the subject was mentioned, and Mme. de Vesey was quite willing. Madame was very much amused by that conversation. She saw plainly enough that Helene de Saison, one of the proudest girls in France, had fallen in love with the young count with- out being in the least degree conscious of it. 152 THE BELLE OF LTW1C. CHAPTER XXX. IT was drawing toward the close of October when the next link in the chain was forged. The beautiful heiress and the young count had met continually in society. She had fallen deeply in love with him, but he had gone no further than great admiration for her talent and great enjoyment in her powers of conversation. Madame la Comtesse had been perfectly neutral. She never spoke to her son of Helene, she never alluded to his marriage ; it was a six weeks' truce; before the six weeks were ended she made a masterly movement in the game. She invited Mme. de Vesey and Mile, de Saison to Belle d'Or. There she thought, in the quiet and solitude of the lovely country, her son would find a charm in the companionship of the beautiful young heiress that he would never find in town, and there she would break to him her idea and plan for the future. Mme. Vesey was pleased to accept the invitation ; she was tired of the brilliant gayeties of Paris, and glad of repose. To Princess Helene, as the count always called her, the bare idea was delightful. Madame la Comtesse invited several other guests, and as the two families had been very intimate in Paris, there was nothing unusual in the visit. Madame did not intend to remain there long; she would return to Paris before Christmas. It was, then, during that time, that Leon de Soldana found how beautiful life could be made. Living in that magnificent house, in the midst of the most beautiful scenery in the world ; surrounded by the most amusing and brilliant society, the days seemed to fly. He did not own to himself that he loved Lima less. He still wrote to her, filling his letters with promises that were as vain as the others he had made, while every hour he became more and more engrossed in his new life. He had seen very little of the world before returning to France ; he had never been in the society of ladies ; Lima was the only one he had known, and he was THE BELLE OF LYNN. 153 charmed with those who surrounded him here ; his mother, so high-bred, with her statuesque grace and im- perial manner ; Mme. Yesey, all that was most amiable and gracious ; Helene de Saison, beautiful and clever ; it was a new life to him. He said to himself, over and over again, that he did not love Lima less ; but she did not belong to this new life she had no share in it. During those evenings, when they had mnsic, dancing, conversation that was bright with wit and repartee, he thought of the homely parlor in Sweetbrier Cottage where he was wont to sit with his books and papers while Lima sat with him reading and sewing. How fair and gentle, how loving she had always been. He could see the golden head bent down and the white, slim hands holding the book ; he tried to fancy how she would look here amidst the magnificent luxury of this new home how she would look amongst these high-bred, nobly born women. Fairer than any, but and he owned it to himself with a shudder she would seem out of place. The rose that bloomed so sweetly on the banks of Allan Water would lose its freshness and sweetness in the atmosphere of Belle d'Or. The pretty, tender ways that had seemed so delightful to him in the darkness and dreariness of his exile would be laughed at here. He could fancy Princess Helene talking to Lima ; the two differed so greatly that they might have belonged to different worlds. The delicate, piquant wit, the talent for repartee in which Princess Helene excelled, were things that Lima would not understand, while she would have laughed with scorn at Lima's loving, gentle ways. He began to realize that when he brought Lima home, things would not go on so smoothly as now. She would not be at her ease with these brilliant friends of his, neither would they feel at home with her ; for some time, at least, she would have to keep away from this which was to him a charmed circle. She would grow accustom- ed to it and learn how to take her place in it, by degrees. But he was compelled to own to himself that he did not look forward with any enthusiasm to bringing Lima home. He tried not to think of it, to enjoy the present and make the most of it. Lima belonged to that horrible* 154 THE BELLE OF LYNN. poverty-stricken past that he never cared to remember. He could hardly realize now that there had been a time when he had lived in one room, and had known what it was to be hungry. Away with such memories, banish such thoughts ! There was the sunny laughter of Mme. Yesey, the clear, musical voice of Princess Helene. He would think of brighter things. He little realized how far he had gone astray, when he put all thoughts and recollections of his wife away from him as being trouble- some and unpleasant. " I cannot think," said Princess Helene to him one -norning, " why you will never take me across the lake. There is an island just in the middle of it, that I have been longing to visit ever since I have been at Belle d'Or. You are usually, Monseiur le Comte, the most chivalrous of gentlemen but twice I have suggested that you should row me there, and twice you have most politely declined." " I am hardly conscious of it," he replied. " Then be doubly conscious now," she answered, laughingly. " Atone for it. Say, ' Mademoiselle, the morning is bright and fair charming for October ; the lake is smooth, the air delicious, and I shall be charmed to row you across to the island.' r He repeated the words after her she laughed. " And I, Monsieur le Comte, shall be delighted to go." There was a pleasant walk to the lake-side. The Take was one of the great beauties of Belle d'Or. A pretty little boat-house stood on its banks; two or three pleasure-boats were always kept there. They were soon seated in the lightest and swiftest, the young count rowing with a firm, bold stroke. " I consider this a great pleasure," said the beautiful girl. " 1 love water ; I love the great, shining sea that Res between England and France; I love the blue sea that washes our southern shores; I love all the rivers and lakes in England. I like the deep, clear pools, and deep, dark tarns. I wonder that you, being in England BO long, did not learn to like rowing." "I do like it," he replied. "The proof is, that I THE BELLE OF LYNN. 155 you must forgive the seeming vanity of my words : you provoked them the proof is, that I excel 1 in it." " Then why did you not offer to take me to the island before ? " she said. And he did not tell how distasteful the thought had been to him. It would bring the past so vividly before him ; he could not fancy any other face than Lima's before him. How often he had rowed the boat on the broad stretch of Allan Water, looking with worshipping eyes into the beautiful face opposite to him. He was not particularly sensitive now, but he shrunk from the associations ; he remembered so well when he had rowed to the water-lilies ; he could see Lima's beautiful eyes watching him now. " Monsieur le Comte, you do not look happy," said Princess Helene ; " you have a sad expression on your face, in your eyes. How is it ? " " I ought to have just the reverse," he replied. " I know what it is," she said ; " the boat and water bring back to your mind something you would like to forget." It was a keen, clever guess of her3, made quite at ran- dom, but it was an arrow that reached its mark. " I should like to forget," he said, in a low voice, speaking quite unconsciously. " Forget what ? " asked mademoiselle, quickly. He looked at her, with a sudden flush on his face. " I did not think what I was saying : I mean that I should like to forget all about my exile except the beautiful land I lived in." " Then you have no associations with a boat and the water?" " I shall have for the future," he replied, with a gal lant bow ; and mademoiselle smiled. Still, although he had one of the most beautiful and wittiest of women in France for his companion, he was not, and he did not look, happy. It brought Lima back so vividly to him, that he could have cried out her name; but the face opposite to him, with its dark, passionate beauty, was not the fair face of Lima; and the voice 156 THE BELLE or LYNN. that murmured witty, piquant words, as they crossed the Jake, lacked the loving tones of her voice. He had never thought so much about her since he left her as he did now, and the thoughts were not calculated to make him happy. " You are distrait, Monsieur le Comte," said his fair companion. " Your work is mechanical ; you are pur ting no animation into it. I talk to you, and you do n. i listen very attentively. As your punishment, you mti.-t take upon yourself now the duty of pleasing me." "The most delightful that you can give me " he said. But, ah me! the banks of Allan Water, the fair green banks of Allan Water, so different from the trim, well- kept banks of the lake ! But he must talk to her, and he did. They reached the pretty island on which grew wild flowers and ferns. " I am Miranda on the enchanted island," said Princess Helene. " How beautiful it is to steal an hour from life like this." She smiled more sweetly than she had ever smiled; her dark eyes lingered on his fair, handsome face; her voice had a ring in it that he had never heard before. Alas, for the banks of Allan Water, and the gentle young wife he had met on its banks ! It was a pleasant half hour that they spent on the island. Princess Helene laughed when she spoke of it, but she wondered also just a little that he had paid her no compliments, and that he had not seemed to care more about the expedition. She little dreamed that the handsome young count had but one thought, and it was a longing that she should know he was married, yet he did not like to break hie word to his mother and tell her. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 157 CHAPTER XXXI. " LEON," said Madame la Comtesse to her son, " our six weeks' truce is ended and, we are going to fight this matter out to the bitter end." The young count smiled frankly, with a vague wish in his heart that it need not be fought out at all. By this time he had completely yielded to his mother's influence ; her mind, being by far the stronger of the two, had gained complete ascendency over his. He loved her, so he did not like to pain her ; he feared her, so he did not care to vex her or annoy her. " There can be no bitter end, mother," he answered ; " there can never be anything bitter between you and me." " I am not so sure of it," said madame. " I have fol- lowed out my idea, which proved to be a correct one. I find I have the strong arm of the law completely on my side, and I shall set it in motion." They were back in Paris when this conversation took place, at the Hotel d'Or, and their visitors had returned to their magnificent home, the Hotel de Saison. Madame la Comtesse had waited for a few days to see if her son would himself volunteer to speak about that which she knew must fill his heart ; but he was too wise and too wary. They were in madame's boudoir she had sent to her son there and though it was winter now, near Christ- mas-tide, the odor of rare and costly flowers filled that beautiful and luxurious room; superb crimson blooms, and madame's favorite flower in greatest profusion, the fragrant purple heliotrope. A room that might have been fitted for a queen ; the hangings were of rich pale rose velvet and gold ; the few pictures were masterpieces ; the rich ornaments of silver and gold ; a few elegant books and costly knickknacks lay about. In an easy-chair of pale rose velvet sat madame. If she had dressed herself to suit her boudoir ghe could 158 THE BELLE OF LYNN. not have looked more in harmony with it. She wore a velvet costume of the palest shade of gray, with a few diamonds ; very stately and very imperial she looked. She smiled when her son entered the room, he looked so handsome and so picturesque, so gallant and brave. " You want me, mother ? " he said. " Yes, my son," she answered ; " I want to remind you that the six weeks' truce is ended." The young count flung himself wearily on one of his mother's dainty chairs. It had to be gone through ; the sooner the better. But what did his mother mean by saying that she had the strong arm of the law on her side, and why was there that gleam of victory on her face ? " You have been so short a time in France, Leon," continued Mme. de Soldana, " that it is not to be expect- ed you would know much of the law." " I do not, indeed," he replied, laughingly. " That is just about the only thing I have carefully avoided." " You do not know, then, that the French marriage laws differ considerably from the English." " No," he replied, " I have never given the matter one single tkought." " You will have to give it very serious thought, now," said madame. " It concerns you far more than you think. In fact, it is a matter of life or death to you." " I do not see it," said the young count, gravely. " No, but I will explain it to you," she said, u and if you consult your lawyer in France, you will find that I am right." He looked at her anxiously, wondering what she had to iell him, but never dreaming even faintly what it was. " You have gone through a ceremony in England which you call marriage," she said. " 1 have done so," he replied. " In France that is no marriage at all," said Madame la Comtesse ; " it has not the faintest shadow of validity." " I cannot believe it," he answered, slowly. " It is most perfectly correct," said madame. " You have left some peruon whom you call your wife in Eng- land?" THE BELLE OF LYNN. 159 u I have done so," he replied. " Do you know," she continued, " that so long as that person remains in England she is your wife, but that the moment her foot touches French soil she ceases to be so?" " I cannot believe it," he cried again. " It is perfectly true. So stands the law ; she is your wife in England, but not in France. Your marriage with her is invalid and illegal in the eyes of the French law. This moment you are perfectly free." " But, mother," he cried, " it is incredible." " It is most perfectly true," she replied, coldly. He sat silent for some minutes, then his face flushed hotly, and he cried : " You must be mistaken, mother. Such a law would be an infamy." " I do not deny it," replied madame ; " there are many laws that are infamous." ' But how is it ? " he cried. " You tell me this thing ; but how does it happen ? What is the proof ? What is the reason ? How does the law stand ? " " You must remember," said madame, " that you are under age. If it were not so, the law would not touch you; as it is, it does. You have not reached your twenty-first year yet you are consequently a minor, under age. You see that, Leon ? " " 1 suppose so," he said, haughtily. " You seem so thoroughly conversant with the subject, mother, it is hardly worth while to appeal to me for any confirmation of your own ideas." " You are a minor," repeated madame, " and, accord- ing to the French marriage law, you cannot legally con- tract any marriage while you are under age, without the consent of your parents or guardians. If you marry without their consent, the marriage is perfectly illegal." " I cannot believe that such a law exists," he said. " It does exist, and it is in very active force," said Madame la Comtesse. " You will find it so, Leon." " Do you mean to tell me, mother, that any young fellow of nineteen or twenty who gets married here ia 160 THE BE7ur duty should be to repair your mistake, and marry elene de Saison." CHAPTER XXXIII. LONG hours afterward, when Madame la Comtesee, delighted with what had passed at the interview, and feeling quite sure that she should win in the end, had left the count, he remained thinking more deeply than he had ever done in his life before, or ever would, per- haps, again. Was ever any man in such a dilemma to have a wife in England and none in France ? In Eng- land he was a married man ; in France, unmarried. He wondered much that he had never heard of this law that he had never heard any allusions to it in conversa- tion, had never read anything about it for it was such an extraordinary law ; it seemed to him that all the world must be astonished at it. His mother spoke of it as a matter of course that every one was perfectly familiar with. He realized how pain- ful his position was ; nothing could legalize his marriage except that with his mother's formal consent he married Lima over again, in France: that consent she refused, therefore all attempt at such a remarriage would be quite in vain. " What a position for me what a position for Lima ! " he said over and over again, to himself. " A wife in England no wife in France. After all Lord of Belle d'Or as I am, lord of this lordly mansion and of the wealth of the Soldamas yet Lima is not my wife here. 168 THE BELLE OF LYNN. While I live in France she can be nothing to me ; she cannot be my wife or the mother of my children : she cannot legally share my name even. I must choose between France and Lima. It seems to me that I can- not have both," and he thought of the summer sunlight honr when Lima had chosen the white lilies of France, and how, according to these laws of France, the white lilies could be hers no more. On one side was his wife ; he could go back to Eng- land and live with her she was legally his wife there, but her children could not be heirs of his French proper- ty ; he would have to give up many of his rights as a French citizen ; he must deprive himself of the pleasure of living on his own domain ; more than all, he must give up those ambitious hopes and daring plans which, if carried out, would make him foremost amongst the men of France ; he must give up all that; if he went to live in England he must renounce every hope that was dear to him ; still, of course, there was Lima he would have Lima. He would not have to live in poverty again ; he could not take his estate with him, he could not take the grand old chateau or beautiful Belle d'Or across the sea, but he could take his income with him ; he need not live in poverty. It would be a terrible wrench, he owned even to himself, to leave France now that he had euch fair and bright prospects, but, if he remained in France, without his mother's consent he could not have Lima; to join her in England, and remain there with her, was ruin to all his hopes, prospects, and desires . to remain in France, and take the place that he wanted, meant that he must live without Lima. It was a terrible dilemma to him, and he saw no possi- ble way out of it except by winning his mother's consent to his marriage, and that, he saw plainly enough, he should never do. " I did not know that Divine and human laws ever came into opposition with each other," he said to himself. " In the eyes of Heaven, in the sight of the majesty ad justice of Heaven, Lima is my wife ; we were married by a properly ordained minister, in a church, with every THE BELLE OF LYNN. 169 formality. I intended to make her my wife before heaven and man. I married her in accordance with the Divine laws ; a human law steps in, looks me in the face, and says, ' She is not yonr wife ; the marriage is not legal. Now, between the two laws, which is my duty ? " Conscience told him his duty was to fulfil that grand old law which says : " A man shall leave all things and cleave unto his wife." That must be duty. It was impossible after these solemn vows that made them one, quite impossible, that any human law should override them. Then a new revelation came to him. It was not so much a matter of setting aside the marriage as it was of the consequences that must ensue if he persisted in treat- ing as legal and valid a marriage which he now knew to be neither ; and the consequences that seemed most terri- ble to him were those that concerned the succession of his estates. He wondered what Lima would say herself, if she knew; what her opinion would be. Conscience and duty both told him that " he must stay with her." Lima would hold no other opinion than that. That was one side of the question, leaving France and going to England. He could picture to himself how he should eat his own heart away in exile, as it were, once more. Then, supposing the marriage was set aside, or rather was treated as an invalid one ; supposing that he could persuade Lima to do as his mother suggested, accept a comfortable income, and remain where she was, never to trouble him again ; suppose that he was quite free to marry Helene de Saison what then ? Should he ever be happy again ? Should he ever know peace of mind or happiness ? What was he to do ? And each time that he asked himself that question, conscience answered him in a loud voice : " Stay with your wife, for she is your wife, notwithstanding the quibble of the law." Mme. de Soldana had done a very wise thing in telling him that she would not hear of any quick decision. The wisest thing she could have done was to allow it to eink into his mind. During the next few days he went about like a man in * dream. He was always thinking about it The two 170 THE BELLE OF LTNH. pathfl lay before him quite clear and distinct either to yield to the French law and leave Lima, or to give up France and cling to her. Madame was too wise to renew the subject ; she saw from his face that it had taken deep root in his mind, and she was clever enough to let well alone. In the meantime she threw everything that was bright and attractive in his way; she took care that no day should pass without his seeing Helene de Saison ; and Princess Helene grew more attached to him every day, and from some few words that Mme. de Vesey accident- ally uttered, she gathered that there was some idea of an alliance between the two families. Yet, why did he not speak to her? He had lived so long in England that she knew he would woo and win the wife he chose in the English fashion. Of late, she had thought him grave, thoughtful, and preoccupied; he had lost his ease with her, he was more embarrassed when in her society, and Princess Helene did not know whether that was a good sign or a bad one. In the meantime, the count did not take his mother's word for granted; he consulted some of the most emi- nent solicitors in France ; from one and all he received the same answer: "That, being a minor, his marriage was invalid without his mother's consent ; " and that, although the lady in question would be recognized as his wife in England, she would not be so recognized in France. That if children were born to him in England, they would not be considered legitimate in France, and would not be eligible to succeed him. Then what would come of the grand old race of the Soldanas ? No one could suggest any way out of the difficulty; there was none ; the way was quite clear before him. He must give up Lima, or give up France with all his newly acquired honors, unless he could win his mother's con- sent to the marriage and that was hopeless. Madame la Comtesse watched him with great anxiety ; she placed every temptation in his way; she talked always of the brilliant future that might be his ; she talked of the wealth and the beauty of Helene ; she kept his mind in a continued state of restless agitation. She THE BELLE OF LYNN. 171 herself saw no harm whatever in it. It might be rather a high-handed proceeding perhaps, but then desperate diseases require desperate remedies. On the only occa- sion she spoke to him about the matter, after their first conversation, he said to her : " Mother, do you really not understand the villainy of the plan you suggest to me ? I grant that your mind has been warped and imbittered by sorrow, still it must be clear enough and bright enough to see that no gentleman could do what you suggest, and that the man who does it must be a villain does it not strike you in that light ? " " No, Leon, it does not. I look upon you as a gentle- man, the head of a noble house, who has, from ignorance and want of experience, placed himself in a most awk- ward dilemma. I think you ought to be very grateful that there is a hope of rescue for you, even though it be by the law. " You see, Leon," continued madame, " I have been very patient. Naturally, I wish to see everything settled and arranged ; I want to see you well and happily mar- ried ; I want to see all your worldly affairs settled. As things stand now, you could not even make your will. I have been patient, but we must have a little action now. I am patient no longer. I leave matters in your hands for a few days longer, then I shall take them into my own. Do you know what my first step will be 1 " " I do not, mother," he replied. " A hard one, I have no doubt, since it concerns me." " A hard one, perhaps, but it will cut the Gordian knot for you. I shall appeal to the highest court of jus- tice to set aside your marriage." " You would not do that, mother ? " "I would, and shall," was the determined reply, '* unless you take some steps at once. Your best plan will be to let your lawyers arrange the whole matter for you, let them be as liberal as they like in the way of money but they must distinctly understand; you may have a few days longer to think matters over in, then there must be no further respite. Do you think a wealthy and beautiful heiress like Helene de Saison will not soon be 172 THE BELLE OF LY1W. married ? You are letting the prize of your life slip out of your hands." " Mother," he said, despairingly, " you know that I must not think of Helene de Saison." "Then you must teach her not to think of you," laughed madame. CHAPTER XXXIV. PRINCESS HELENE was in the salon of her beautiful house in the Champs Elysees one morning when the young count called to see her with some commission from his mother. She was pleased enough to see him, and Mme. de Vesey had not hesitated in leaving them tete-d-tete for a short time. It was not in accordance with French custom, but " it was not necessary to be so par- ticular" in this case, both being pretty well used to English manners. The count delivered his mother's message, and then the conversation turned upon the last new novel and the last new play. Suddenly Princess Helene, looking at him, said : " Monsieur le Comte, have you any idea what a changed man you are ? The laughter has all gone from your eyes ; you are so grave, so distrait. We are old friends now I am sure you will forgive me for asking you if there is anything wrong ? " " Nothing whatever," he answered. " I am most grate- ful for your interest and kindness." u Are you well ? " she continued, earnestly. " I know that gentlemen, as a rule, object very strongly to acknowl- edge that they have anything but perfect health ; but you do not look well." " I am perfectly well," he answered, with a low bow. " Then," she continued, with a frankness that was rather startling, " then you are not happy. Ah, I see that I have reached the right reason at last." For he started slightly, and the handsome face grew paler. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 173 " You are not happy," she repeated ; " trust me, and A. 11 1H */' A 7 tell me why." " 1 cannot," he replied, " or I would." But he felt that the best and wisest thing he could do would be to tell his troubles to this girl whom his mother wished him to marry. If she knew the whole story of Lima and his marriage, she would, as a matter of course, cease to think of hirn. She might be annoyed to think that the story had been kept from her, but she would most certainly give up all thoughts of him if what his mother said was true, had she entertained any ; but he had given his word to Madame la Comtesse, and he shrunk from breaking it. "Why can you not trust me?" she said, gently, so gently, that he was surprised, and he saw a quiver of emotion on her face. " It is nothing," he said, hurriedly " only a trifle, a something that concerns myself " "And therefore," she interrupted, "would interest me." " You are very good," he said, gratefully, feeling more embarrassed than ever. " It is a something that I cannot speak of." " Tell me," she said, " is it a political trouble ? " she spoke quickly and in a low voice " that is the one thing I am always anxious over for you," she said. He smiled half wishing that it were nothing worse than political trouble. " I am very happy to say that I have no trouble of that kind ; on the contrary, I am making my way, as I hoped to do." " I am glad to hear that," she said, still so gently and kindly that it was difficult to realize it was the haughtiest girl in France who was speaking. " I cannot ask any more questions, and those I have asked have not been dictated by curiosity." " I am sure of that," ke replied, with a low bow. " I will only say that if you are in trouble of any kind and I can help you I will do any thing I can. You must look upon me as a kind of sister and, come to me." When a young lady, with love shining in her eyes, 174 THE BELLE OF LTWN. tells a gentleman to " look upon her as a sister," it is not in human nature for the gentleman to fail in understand- ing something of what is in the lady's mind. Princess Helene held out a white, jewelled hand, slim, cool, and firm. Count de Soldana raised it to his lips. "I do not deserve your goodness," he said, and she did not hurriedly withdraw her hand from his clasp. It lay there almost as though she expected him to say more. It was then, for the first time, that the young count felt that Princess Helene cared for him, felt that she loved him, and that, so far his mother was right : it would be in his power to win her. When he released his clasp of the white, jewelled hand without saying more, he saw the expression of pain that passed like a summer cloud over the beautiful face ; she nad been so sure that he was going to say some kind or loving words to her, and it flashed across her mind that if he did not speak, now, when they were together and alone, when he had so excellent an opportunity, that he would never utter them at all, and that her love was all given to him in vain. " Promise me one thing," she said, " if any political trouble reaches you, you will tell me at once ? " " I promise," he answered, and then he felt his heart warm to her, not with love, but with kindly, grateful affection. She was so proud, so imperious, that she could not have paid him a greater or more delicate compliment than talking to him in this friendly fashion. His heart warmed to her, and they talked for sometime together. She took from a dainty stand of flowers a lovely little spray of stephanotis and held it out to him. " Keep it," she said, " in memory of the promise you have made me." He laughed. " Favor me, then," he said, " after the English fashion ; fasten it here. When young ladies in England give their their " then he stopped abruptly, and his face flushed crimson. He was on the point of saying " lovers," but he paused just in time, and substituted the word u brothers." " When young ladies in England give flowers to their THE BELLE OF LYNN. 175 brothers, they always add grace to the favor by fastening them here," he said. " I will imitate the English young ladies," said prin- cess Helene, with a bright, pleased smile. She went nearer to him, and holding the dainty spray of stephanotis in her white fingers, she placed it in the buttonhole of his coat and fastened it there. She was so near to him that he could feel the slight tremble of her hands, and the faint, subtle perfume that came from the folds of her dress ; her beautiful face was raised to him with a smile ; her eyes, for one moment, looked in to his only one moment but while it lasted they told him all that was in her heart, and theu her beauty intoxicated him. He bent down and kissed the beautiful, ripe lips, so dangerously near. The next moment it flashed across him what he was doing: he drew back pale and startled. The fair face of his young wife rose before him, sad reproach looking at him out of those beautiful blue eyes. He was startled, as though he had actually seen her, while Princess Helene dropped her proud head with a crimson blush ; her whole heart was filled with delight, and her first thought was " "We shall never be the same after this never again." He recovered himself quickly, and she looked up at him. She had never been so beautiful ; the blush still lingered on her face, and her eyes smiled into his. " Is that an English custom also, Monsieur le Comte ? n she asked. " Between brothers and sisters, most decidedly yes," he replied. "I I ought to beg your pardon, Princess Helene." " I forgive you," she replied. " I am inclined to think it is my own fault. I went into danger. Take care of the stephanotis, and remember your promise, comte. Good-morning, Monsieur le Comte." Princess Helene was wise enough to terminate the interview just at the right moment, but the count did not feel very happy as he descended the steps of that mag- nificent mansion. He was not pleased with himself, but then she had looked so lovely, and he had read that in 176 THE BELLB OF LYNN. her eyes which told him she was not by any means m different to him. Alas, for the sweet love-story told on the banks of Allan Water ! Alas, for truth and for honor ! " If I did the right thing," he said to himself, " if I took the only course open to an honorable man, 1 should never look upon the face of Princess Helene again." But what a face it was, radiant, beautiful, and proud. How the pride had given place to tenderness when she looked at him ; and she had not been angry with him when he kissed her. The fair sad face of Lima, his wife, faded from him, and this took its place. He could not go home, he felt restless and disturbed; a fire burned in his veins; he was like one haunted with shadows. He went into the magnificent gardens that lay near, and walked under the shade of the trees. The music of the wind in the trees, the clear sweet voices of the chil- dren at play reached him, but above all he could hear the words of the ballad : *' For the summer grief had brought heo, And the soldier false was he ; On the banks of Allan Water, None so sad as she." Was the prophecy in those lines to be carried out? Should he ever be false to that fair and loving young wife, who had given up everything in the world for him ? When he had first asked himself that question his answer had been an indignant, " No " a thousand times "No." The answer this time was not so indignant, neither was he so sure of himself, and he recognized the fact. Con- stant dripping wears even a stone. No man had ever meant to be more loyal, more true, more honorable ; the bare idea of any other course of conduct had been loath- some in his eyes. He would not look at it, he would not think of it, but now he found himself looking it straight in the face without much shrinking from it, and looking at the consequences. That same sun was shining over Allan Water, where THE BELLE OF LYNN. 177 his young wife watched wearily for him, where she prayed and wept, where she lost health and strength and everything in the wide world, but love for him. CHAPTER XXXV. HEB beautiful face flushed with victory, love-light shining in her eyes, her heart beating with a passion of happiness so great that it was almost pain, Princess Helene paced up and down her magnificent room. She was happy, yet miserable. She was full of hope, yet full of fear. She felt that the young count cared for her; yet if he did, why had he not said so ? Why not, when he kissed her, have whispered, " Helene, 1 love yon will you be my wife ? " If he loved her, why had he not done so ? She had given him her whole heart in that one kiss, and Helene de Saison never did anything by halves ; she had given him her whole heart, and she could not take it back. Until then she had in some measure tried to con- trol her love she had hardly owned it even to herself but now it became suddenly part of her life, and the kiss was still burning on her lips her heart was still beating with passionate happiness. " I may say it now to myself, ' I love him I love him ! ' and alter this we shall never be the same again. He looked in my face and kissed me ; he can never bo cool or indifferent to me after that never again. But why did he not say that he loved me ? Was there any reason? Surely not. He did not love any one else." She had heard on all sides how insensible he was to all charms of beauty how little he sought the society of ladies. She knew that he had paid her more attention than he had paid to any one else. It could not possibly be that he cared for any one else. There could be no reason. "I do not believe," said Princess Helene to herself, with a smile, " that he would have kissed any one else in the world bat me." 178 THE BELLE OF LYNN. The "white water-lilies that slept on the bosom of Allan Water could have told a different story. " He was even more frightened than I was. Oh, my love my brave, handsome love, I shall win you yet. You will tell me that you love me yet, and ask me to be your wife." There was a sound of some one entering the room, and Princess Helene turned quickly to see who it was, so quickly that the flush had not died from her face, or the happy light from her eyes. " My dear Helene," cried Mme. de Yesey, " how well you look ! how bright, how glad. What is it ? " She, always so proud, so imperious, felt the need of human sympathy now. She went to madame ; she laid her arms round her neck, and hid her bright face on her breast. " I do not know quite what it is," she said ; " perhaps I have been looking at the sun, and it has brougnt tears to my eyes." Mme. de Yesey raised the beautiful face ; the long, dark lashes were wet with happy tears. "I know what it is," said madame, "but I will not tell." She kissed Princess Helene, and resolved that she would speak to Madame la Comtesse even that day. u I will lose no more time," she thought. " I have been indiscreet After all, English manners do not suit France. I should not have allowed those two young people to have seen so much of each other. I am afraid that Helene has grown attached to him, and I know nothing of his sentiments. I must see Madame la Com- tesse at once." All that day the brightness remained on her face, evening was to make her happier still. One of the tinest singers in the world (Mme. Alte) was to make her appearance that night in the grand old opera of " Norma," and Mme. Alte as Norm a was something so the world said which must be seen. Princess Helene had expressed the greatest desire to hear the opera, and Mme. de Yesey was equally anxious to gratify her. It was arranged that the two families should go to- THE BELLE OP LYNN. 179 gether. The boxes were at such a premium that they considered themselves fortunate in securing one. The emperor and empress were to be present, and that was sufficient to draw a fashionable crowd. That magnifi- cent opera-house was never more crowded than on that memorable evening. There was never a more superb spectacle. The emperor and empress in the imperial box were surrounded by some of the most beautiful and bril- liant women in Paris. The emperor looked well. The lines of care that in after years marked his face so deeply had not appeared. He smiled and talked. The shadow of Sedan was not hanging over him then, and the em- press looked imperially beautiful ; there was no shadow on her lovely face. The little prince was safe at home, and the dynasty seemed sure. The empress was superb- ly dressed, and wore the famous pearl necklace. There were no tears on the diadem, no thorns on the crown she wore that evening; all was brilliant, bright, and happy. It was a scene never to be forgotten ; the beautiful faces of the ladies their magnificent dresses, their superb jewels, the charming bouquets formed a brilliant picture ; but the face that drew the most attention was that of Helene de Saison ; it was the most beautiful face there. Many opera-glasses were directed to that box. Mme. de Vesey looked handsome and picturesque. Mme. la Comtesse de Soldana looked as she always did, the ideal of statuesque grace, but Princess Helene carried the palm. She had never looked so lovely in her life, and it is just possible that she never looked just the same again. Love had softened that grand beauty of hers as it had never been softened before ; even those who admired her most admitted that a certain proud, cold hardness, rather marred her loveliness. It had gone now ; the dark eyes, darker than the velvet leaf of a pansy, were bright with the love-light that shone in them, the lips that were hard at times in their expression of scorn and contempt were sweet with gracious curves and lines. She was happy, thoroughly happy, and happiness beautifies the face of any girl ; it made hers something wonderful to see. She was dressed with exquisite taste her favorite color, pale amber, most delicately embroi- 180 THE BELLE OF LYNN. dered with white flowers. She carried a bouquet of etephanotis, which had been sent by the young count. She loved him with all her heart, and she was going to spend a whole evening with him, listening to beautiful music. Could anything be better ? Listening to sweet music with the one you love is perhaps the nearest ap- proach that mortals ever make to Heaven. Me. Alte was beautiful as she was gifted ; she took the house by storm the magnificence of her acting and singing was wonderful. At first Princess Helene could not see or hear any one or anything except the wonderful woman before her ; her whole being was moved. It was seldom that the proud Princess Helene gave way to any emotion ; but to-night the sweet sounds that appealed to her senses, the brilliant scene around her, the passionate love of Norma, her passion of jealousy, touched the very depths of her soul, and her heart softened as nothing but music could ever soften it. That night sealed her fate, and the fate of others. As she sat by his side, looking into the handsome face that was the only face in the world she cared for or loved, she said to herself that she would be his wife or nothing ; that the world held noth- ing else for her ; that life could give her nothing if thia were withheld. His wife or nothing! If he never asked her to be his wife she would never marry. If he did not love her, no other man should, and though she spoke no word, all these thoughts were told clearly in her eyes, and he read them. The passionate love of a beautiful woman is the grent- est flattery a man can receive, and the count was flattrrud. The man must have been blind and deaf who could not have read what that beautiful face revealed, and heard what the softened music of that voice told. As the story before them progressed in its passion, its beauty, and its pain, so did the love grow in her heart. He turned to her once. " What would you have done, Princess Helene," he asked, " had you been in Norma's place ? " " Just the same as she did," was the quick reply. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 181 "Have you ever been jealous of any one you loved very much ? " " No, I have never been jealous," she answered. " 1 do not know what jealousy means, but I begin to under- stand it. I should say it is even more terrible than love. Have you ever been jealous, Monsieur le Comte ? " He thought of that sweet face and the golden hair, of the beautiful eyes that had never looked with love on any one but him, of the loving heart whose every beat had been for him. " No," he said, with a grave, tender smile, " I have never been jealous." " I hope I never shall be," said Princess Helene, with a sudden flash of her dark eyes into his. " Jealousy would make me cruel. Some men, it is said, spare no man in their wrath; I would spare no woman in my jealousy." " Yon must love deeply before you can be jealous," he said, slowly. " I know it," she answered, and again their eyes met ; the sweet, sad music floated round them; the story of love and passion, of jealousy and death, went on to the end. But they were in a world of their own ; her beauty, the passion of her love-lit eyes, the sweet wooing 01 her glauces, the tenderness of her voice, the wondrous charm which the complete intoxication of her love threw round her, dazed him. It was not even then in his heart that he loved Lima less in that hour he had forgotten her ; he saw only the beautiful face by his side ; he heard only the sweet, seductive tones of that voice which was all sweetness for him. But when he had left her, when her bright eyes had flashed one farewell glance into his, the old w^rds, with their old, sad burden, came back to him ** For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he ; On the banks of Allan Water None so sad as she. 182 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER XXXVI. A PBOMISB made over running water is doubly bind- ing." As Count de Soldana walked home that evening those words haunted him. He felt that the force of his will was weakening, that the influences brought to bear upon him were too strong for him to resist, and yet, no matter what the law said, was he not doubly bound to that fair young wife of his ? Doubly bound : first, because he had taken her from her home and her parents quite against their wish ; secondly, because he had pledged his faith over running waters, and the old legend said that faith pledged over running waters was doubly bind ing. He could remember his own words. " Swear to me, Lima," he had said, " that nothing shall change you, that nothing shall take you from me, noth- ing shall induce you to give me up. Promise that you will love me truly and faithfully so long as we both live." And she had promised. She had kept her promise, while he " Who could have dreamed or imagined that, if either were faithless, it would be I ? " he thought, and the sound of running waters was in his ears. That same night Madame la Comtesse was waiting for him, and when he saw the expression of determination on her face he knew that the crisis was at hand. He knew that the hour had come, in which he must choose between France and Lima. Six weeks ago he would have said, " Lima against all the world, Lima before all the world." A month ago he would have hesitated, equally balanced for and against ; but now not even the remembrance of the running waters, or the words of the sweet, sad ballad turned the scale. He had loved Lima with a pure, true love; to- night he was under the influence of passion. He was dazed and bewildered by the beauty and the love of this THE BELLE OF LTHN. 183 proud, yonng heiress who had never condescended to care for any man before. His mind was full of her when la comtesse sent to say that she wanted to see him in her boudoir. She still wore the same supero dress and magnificent diamonds that had suited her so well at the opera ; she had thrown a white lace shawl over her shoulders, and stood as erect and stately as a queen. The lamps were lighted, and a flood of rosy light filled the beautiful room. " Come in, Leon," said Madame la Comtesse. " You are late this evening." " If I had known you wished to see me, I would have hastened," he said ; " as it is, I have walked leisurely home." " I wish to talk to you very gravely and earnestly, Leon," continued madame. " I know it is midnight, but this is the best time for an uninterrupted conversation. You have to decide to-night between the young person you call Lima, and France France, wealth, honor, glory, and all that life holds dear." Six weeks ago he would have cried out, " Lima before all," but constant dripping wears away a stone constant and powerful influence brought to bear upon him had produced its effect. It is difficult for a man to become a rogue or a villain all at once. If a base deed be placed before an honest man he recoils at once and protests against it ; but if the same deed be kept continually before his eyes, and shown in many different lights, he becomes familiar with it, then gradually reconciled to it. Leon de Soldana was honest and honorable by nature, granting even that that same nature was weak and easily influenced. At first he had rejected his mother's pro- posal with horror and loathing. He would not allow himself to think of it Then, little by little, the glitter- ing bait thrown out to him had made its impression ; then he dallied with the temptation, and so lost his hor- ror of it. Now he argued both sides with himself, and in a case like this, the man who argues is lost. " I told you, Leon," said Madame la Comtesse, " that 184 THE BELLE OF LTIW. unless you took some decisive measures yourself, and at once, that I should make my appeal to the High Courts of Justice, and demand that your so-called marriage be set aside as invalid and worthless. You know, of course, that the verdict, in accordance with the law, must be in my favor." " I am afraid it is so, mother," he answered, slowly. "I have consulted some of the most eminent lawyers here in Paris, and there seems to be no alternative." " No," said madame, " there is none. I am glad you see it. The end of the trial will be that the law itself separates you from that person ; you can never call her your wife here in France, and you know all that you for- feit bv going to live with her in England. Trial or no trial, it comes to the same thing in the end. There is but this difference if you will intrust the affair to me, I will carry it through from beginning to end, and there need be no publicity ; no one but your own family law- yers need know anything about it, except, of course, Madame Vesey, who, being a woman of the world, will understand. Let me arrange it for you, and no shadow, no shame, no stain, shall rest on the name of Soldana. I will see that this young person is rightly, kindly, and justly dealt with." " A promise made over running water is doubly bind- ing," were the words that sounded in his ears, and he raised his hand as though he would push away the person speaking to him. Beautiful blue eyes, so sad and so sweet, are looking into his ; he closes his own until the vision shall have passed. " What I want to lay before you clearly is this," said Madame la Oomtesse "when you know and acknowl- edge that the verdict will be against you, that it cannot be otherwise, why allow this trial to go on ? Why draw the attention of all France to what was simply a piece of boyish folly? Why let the wretched story appear in all the papers, and be the subject of conversation throughout France? What will you gain by it? The end will be the same. You will simply have drawn pub- lic attention to the fact that your marriage is not legal, and will cause the young person, Lima, to suffer far more THE BELLE OF LtKN. 185 discomfort than if the matter were dealt with silently and diplomatically." " Mother," said the young count, looking into the de- termined face, " do you really intend to proceed with the trial, which I must call infamous ? " " Most decidedly I do," replied madame with a smile ; "and every sensible man and woman in France will say that I have done well. Now, Leon, you must decide to- night ; will you of your own accord ? Seeing that your marriage is invalid, and also would be ruinous if it were valid; seeing that to persist in it, to return to England to live with this person would be utter annihilation and ruin to all your hopes and prospects ; seeing all this, and knowing that the law will only make it worse, why not yield at once to the good advice given to you ? Leave the matter to your lawyers and to me." " Oh, my poor young wife ! " cried the count, with an tmtburst of emotion so sincere that even the hard, world- ly heart of his mother was touched. " My poor, pretty, loving young wife I " he cried, with something like a sob, and then his mother's heart began to beat in triumph from the very tone of his voice she augured that things were going well for her. She thought that perhaps a little sympathy might not be misplaced just then. There are mothers who lead their sons by sympathy and love to Heaven there are mothers who do the very reverse. " I know it is hard, Leon," said madame, and into that wonderful voice of hers she threw a cadence of love and melancholy that made it irresistible. u It is very hard, but you are not the only one in the world who has had to sacrifice himself for the good of his family. Do you think that it was easy for Napoleon to give up his beauti- ful and beloved Josephine ? Yet he did so. If if the young person you call Lima be really disinterested and noble, she would be the first to insist on your leaving her forever." He thought of the sweet face and the loving eyes, of the white hands that had clasped his, of the beautiful, sensitive lips that had kissed him, caressed him, praised 186 THE BELLE OF LYNN. him, Ipycd him. Was it possible that she would erer send him away from her ? " A promise made over running waters is doubly bind- ing, mother," he cried. " I honestly believe that if I were to do this thing which you ask me, it would kill her it would break her heart ! " " That fear need not trouble you," said Madame la Comtesse. " Leave her to me. I will undertake to man- age her, to satisfy her; to make her quite content and happy." " If I do it," said the young count, sadly, " I shall never know another happy moment in my life never one. I shall feel that I am branded with a guilt greater than that of murder. I shall never hold up my head in the sunlight again." " My dear Xeon," cried madame, " that is all senti- mental nonsense, the raving of foolish romance ! Napo- leon the Great held up his head more proudly than ever after he had married Marie Louise." " Mother," said the unhappy young man, " you need not point out Napoleon's marriage as a model for me to imitate. People said that he was never happy for one minute afterward." " People said that King Henry never smiled after hig son's death," said madame ; " but it does not follow that it is true, because people say it." " Mother," he said, earnestly, " you were rejoiced when I regained what I may call my patent of nobility." " I was, my son ! " she replied. " I feel that what you are asking me to do degrades me far more than that same patent of nobility ennobles me." " The same thing did not degrade Napoleon," she said, calmly ; " while a man keeps himself within the letter of the law, he is safe." How could he deny that ? The laws of a nation are supposed to be its safeguard ; can any man do better than comply with them ? What answer could he make? Let the lawgivers of a nation be careful and not 90 frame their laws that coinpli- THE BELLE OF LYNN. 187 ance with them should be a screen for guilt, and a cover for crime. The lawgivers of a nation, the men who hold so much in their hands ! How far those laws, some of them, tend to individual crimes, who shall say ? Before madame dismissed her son that night, he had promised to do what his mother required of him, and nad lost his own self-respect forever. CHAPTER XXXVII. NETER was a more diplomatic meeting than that which took place between the two ladies, one of the house of Soldana, and one of the ancient house of Vesey. Mme. la Corntesse de Soldana knew what she had to say. Mme. Vesey knew what she had to insinuate ; both knew well that they desired most heartily a marriage be- tween the young people. The conference, which was a most solemn one, took place in madame's boudoir ; in the same room where, by specious and subtle arguments, she had overcome the honorable scruples of her son, and had trodden them un- der foot where she had taken from him all insignia of nobility, and robbed him of his last remnant of honor. There the conference took place. Madame la Com- tesse broke the ice by saying how very desirable, in her eyes, an alliance between the two families would be, and Mme. Vesey most cordially agreed with her. Then it was Mme. Vesey's turn, and she explained that Princess Helene had not been trained exactly afrer the fashion of French young ladies. She had been left a great heiress at a very early age. She had travelled a great deal ; they had been nearly two years in England, and one in Italy ; the consequence was that she was, in some degree, emancipated. She had far more liberty than fell, as a rule, to the lot of young girls of her age. The consequence of this, raadatne added, was that she had gone more into society ; she had more her own way, and the result was, madame fancied she was not sure, 188 THE BELLE OP LYNN. but she fancied her niece regarded Monsieur le Comte de Soldana with kindly eyes. Madame la Comtesse ex- pressed her delight ; no marriage could be more suitable, no marriage could be more delightful, and she gladdened Mine. Vesey's heart by telling her that she knew for a certain fact that this marriage, this alliance between two great and noble families, would give great satisfaction a\, court. That was the final seal in Mme. Vesey's opinion ; she had an almost superstitious love and reverence for the beautiful empress, and was delighted to hear that she had taken an interest in the marriage of her niece. Everything was most satisfactory. The Comtesse de Soldana mentioned her son's income, his estates, his honors and dignities; Mme. de Vesey mentioned her niece's fortune, which was so enormous that even Mad- ame la Comtesse wondered, and felt more anxious than ever to bring about the marriage. Mme. Vesey men- tioned all the conditions that went with this enormous fortune, and the comtesse saw nothing to object to in any of them. So far all was pleasant, fair sailing, and easy, but Madame la Comtesse knew her duty ; she knew that between the heads of the two families there must be perfect confidence, and she had not a very pleasant story to tell. Comte de Soldana had made one stipulation with Ids mother, and it was this : that Helene de Saison should not be allowed to remain in ignorance of his story. Per- haps he had some faint hope that when she heard it she would reject his suit ; that she would indignantly refuse to take to herself one who in another country was the legitimate husband of another woman. Perhaps he thought that the cry might revolt her "A wife in Eng- land, no wife in France." He made his mother promise that she should be told the whole story, and that the de- cision should rest with her. Madame la Comtesse had but little fear. She had read the nature and character of Princess Helene pretty accurately. Still, it was not altogether a pleasant story to tell. " There is one thing, Madame de Vesey," she said, THE BELLE OF LYNN. 189 " which I should like to mention before we proceed a foolish entanglement in which my son involved himself when he was in England. Nothing dishonorable; in fact, it does far more credit to his heart than his head. We are both women of the world ; we both understand that young men are not so careful or so thoughtful as they should be. Happily, the law sets in to avert the consequences of my son's folly." Then she told the story exactly as it happened, and as it was, not disguising one fact, yet making it perfectly clear to her listener that, owing to the state of the mar- riage law, the girl who was a wife in England was no wife in France ; the marriage which was perfectly legal and valid in England was worthless in France, and Mme. Vesey listened with grave attention. " What do you think yourself of the situation ? " asked Madame la Comtesse, when the whole history was con- cluded. " I think," said madame, slowly, " that you are quite right in setting this marriage aside. It is really no mar- riage. It would be utter ruin for your son to persist in it, but as a matter of course, he would have too much sense." " Many young men make similar mistakes," continued Madame la Comtesse. " If he had married an English lady of birth and good connections, it would have been different : I might in that case have given permission for the ceremony to have been repeated here with my formal sanction and permission. You see, Madame Vesey," she continued, " that I have my son entirely in my power. Though he is really the head of the house, the restoration was virtually made to me until he cornea of age. I think, under all the circumstances, I am do- ing right, doing what is best for him." " Undoubtedly you are," said Mme. Vesey. Still she looked grave and anxious. " You have some doubt on your mind," said the count- ess ; tell me what it is ? " " Did your son love this young person ? " asked Mine. Vesey ; " love her and woo her after the English fash- ioa?" 190 THE BBLLE OF LYNN. " I should imagine so," replied madame. " He must have been what people absurdly call in love with her, or he never would have gone through the marriage cere- mony illegal as it was, with her." " If I understand my niece rightly," said Mme. Vesey, "that would be her chief objection; she has sense enough to see that there is no alternative for the count but to forget all about what he honestly thought at the time was a legal marriage. I myself," continued Mine. Yesey, " although I have lived all my life in France, and have always known of this law as I know of others, I have never realized it; until now I have never been brought face to face with it. I see both the good and the evil of it. I must say that I think it presses hardly on the women of other nations. I believe my niece, if I understand her rightly, would take less notice of the fact of the marriage than of the fact that he loved the girl, and the reason of that is because she herself loves him. She is peculiar, she has strong characteristics. I have always advised her to keep clear of all love and romance. In this case, my advice has been in vain. She will brook no divided love, no half heart. She will have all or nothing." " I may say that she will have all," said Madame la Comtesse, thoughtfully. " My son thinks that he loves, or has loved, this young girl; I do not think so. See how long he has been here in France, and he has made no effort whatever to see her. 1 do not believe that he loves her, while I think that he is quite carried away by the beauty, the wit, and the charm of Mademoiselle de Baison." And so the conversation continued ; as women of the world, accustomed to the ways and fashions of tho aristocracy, they knew well that in the settlement of a young noble man's marriage the broken hearts of one or two women were not reckoned a feather's weight. " Things of the kind were always happening. There was the young Marquis de Poldaic; he began life very young, travelled half over the world, and married a beautiful Cuban. He took her home to Paris, there his parents took proceedings against him, the marriage was THE BELLE OF LTWW. 191 declared null and void in very truth, she was no wife of his when once they reached the French shore. He was formally announced as about to marry Minette de Pierrefonds, and the beautiful Cuban threw a bottle of ritrol at him, and blinded him for life." Mme. Vesey remembered, too, that a few years ago all France had rung with the story of M. le Due de Mirema, who, while he was a minor, married the most beautiful and accomplished singer of the day Signorina Pardi and when, two years afterward, he tired of her and con- ceived a violent affection for Mme. de Campolle, he had no trouble, nothing to do but to plead the illegality of his marriage, which the law at once admitted, and he married madame. " Those are not very cheerful incidents," said Madame la Comtesse ; " I hope our affair will not end so badly." " There is no fear," said Mme. Vesey. " You know- nothing of this young English person, Madame la Comtesse I " " Nothing, except that, as a matter of course, she is as beautiful as an angel, according to my son most of those young English girls are pretty ! and she is a miller's daughter." " A miller's daughter ! " cried Mme. Vesey. " "What a mistake for Monsieur le Comte to make. How could he, a Soldana, think of such a marriage ? " " He was poor and in exile, without any thought of return in those days," said Madame la Comtesse. " I think it is an excellent thing for you, Madame la Comtesse, that the law is on your side," said Mme. Vesey ; " you could never have tolerated such a mesalli- ance as that." " Never," said Mme. de Soldana, proudly. What was one girl's heart compared to the glories of the house of Soldana! Then they talked for a few minutes on what could be done over Mile, de Saison. " She is very jealous by nature," said Mme. Vesey. " My opinion of her is that she would overlook any and every thing except the fact of his having loved the girl." " In that case," said Madame la Comtesse, " would it not be beat for me to speak to her and tell her how tht THE BELLE OF LYNN. matter stands? My son wishes her to know the story, and he leaves the decision in her hands. If, knowing it, she will accept his devotion and share his name, he will be the happiest of men. If, knowing it, she refuses, he will, as he must, abide by her decision, and he will be of all men the most miserable. I think," added Madame la Comtesse, " she will accept him." But madame shook her head gravely. " If he loved the other one, I cannot say," she replied. " My niece is jealous, and jealousy is a passion." CHAPTER XXXVIII. MADAME LA COMTESSE knew that she had the most difficult of her many difficult tasks before her. She nnderstood the character of Mile, de Saison to a nicety. She knew also that she was deeply in love with her son. If she could tell this story of the marriage so as to im- press mademoiselle with the idea that it was the English girl who loved her son, rather than her son who loved the girl ; if she could leave upon the mind of the heiress the impression that she was the comte's first and dearest love, all would be well. If not the alliance which she so much courted would never take place. So that, after all, after all her fears and anxieties, the matter really remained in her own hands now. Madame la Comtesse was not deceitful by nature, nor was she addicted to untruth. As a rule she was honest in the expression of her thoughts and ideas; but this case seemed to her so desperate, there was so much at etake, that she did not think a misrepresentation of the facts would be of any harm ; not that she intended so much to misrepresent them as to give to them the need- ful shape and coloring. To paint her son, not as an ardent lover, wooing and winning a young and innocent girl as his wife ; to paint him as the victim of a mistake ; to represent him rather ns having been entangled in a moment of weakness of having gone through a cere- mony which was valid in England but not in France, THE BELLE OF LYNN. 193 aid then finding out that this same ceremony was worth- less. That in France and in the eyes of the law this so- called marriage could never be a marriage, and that on his finding out the unalterable truth of this he was will- ing to do the best he could to provide suitably for the young person, to repair his most hasty and terrible mis- take, and that if she could overlook this he begged to place his heart and his life at her feet. If she were clever enough to tell her story in that fashion, she might succeed ; if not, if the beautiful heir- ess were angry or jealous, then all hopes of the great De Saison alliance were ended. " My tact and diplomacy never have failed me," she said to herself. " Surely they will come to the rescue now." " Princess Helene " for the pretty name that the count had given to her became a household word ; Mad- ame la Comtesse always used it, Mme. Vesey used it, the young count hardly recognized her by 'my other name Princess Helene woke up on the morning of the day on which her conversation with madame was to take place with a feeling that some crisis in her life had arrived. It was noon when Mme. de Soldana reached the Hdtel Saison, and she found the young heiress alone. Mme. Vesey had discreetly driven out to keep a business engagement made, she said, some days since. Princess Helene looked very lonely and very magnificent. She was in her own boudoir, a cheerful and beautiful room that looked over the Champs Elys6es, a room that seemed to be all pictures and flowers ; the hangings were all of Princess Helene's favorite color pale amber, with finest white lace. Most of the flowers were of deep crimson or of dead white, so that the coloring of the whole room was delightful. Contrary to the regular custom, there was a small silver grate in the room, and a bright fire burned there. Prin- cess Helene had drawn her easy-chair near it ; a charm- ing picture she presented : the prettily embroidered slip- per resting on a footstool of pale amber velvet with gold- en tassels, her dress of rich white silk loosely fastened with a golden cord and showing every line of her beauti- 194 THE BELLE OF LYNN. ful figure, her dark hair loosened, and her face flushed into loveliest bloom. Madame la Comtesse looked at her feet for half a minute in silent admiration. She felt that she could do anything to secure the magnificent young creature as her son's wife. It was a pleasant picture to see the two ladies meet, to see how the younger one rose, blushing .nd radiant with delight, while the older one folded her in her arms, and kissed her face. " This is the day of all days to me," said Madame la Comtesse, when they were seated side by side. " I have come to tell a story, to ask a grace, to plead for one who just now cannot plead for himself." The beautiful face grew brighter as she spoke. "Was it possible that the time she had longed for had come, but that instead of being wooed in English fashion, Madame la Comtesse had come in French fashion to ask her hand for her son? Her heart beat, her eyes grew brighter. She wag more lovely in the confusion of that moment than Madame la Comtesse had ever seen her be* fore. Her son must win this magnificent creature, and she must do her best to help him. She did not know how easy her task would be, for Princess Helene had given to Count Soldana the whole passionate love of he* heart As Mme. Vesey had said of her, she was for all or nothing. She had not given to him a kindly affection, a mere passing fancy, a love that would die in a few years ; she had given to him the whole passionate love of a passionate nature. It was hardly possible, hardly prob- able, that the mother would plead in vain for the son so dearly loved. "I have come," said Madame la Comteeee, "as my son's embassadress ; " and then Princess Helene gave a great sigh of unutterable relief and content " I have a story to tell you, Belle Helene," she said, * and the story is of my son. Will you listen to me ? " " I shall be deeply interested," she replied. " I know," continued Madame la Comtesse, " that this is an unusual proceeding, and that it is a most unusual thing to tell such a sfcory as this to a young lady ; but I know, also, that you have had a far more liberal training THE BELLE OF LYNN. 195 than falls to the lot of most yonng ladies, and you know more of the world ; besides which, my son wisned me to tell you, as he leaves your decision and his fate in your hands." Then the proud, beautiful face grew paler, and the dark eyes troubled. " Is it of your son, of Monsieur le Comte, you wish to tell me ? " she asked. " Yes, it is an accident in his life that you must know." " But why did he not tell me himself ? " asked the girl. " He thought it better left to me," replied Mme. de Soldana, " and he had good reasons for it." And then, delicately, cleverly, subtly, she told the story. In her recital of it, there was not one word that could have shocked even a child. She painted a picture that was marvellous even to herself. She described the dreariness, the darkness' of his exile, then how this young English person had brightened and cheered it, had made her way to his confidence, had entangled him she could find no other word had succeeded in inveigling him into a marriage that was really no marriage, because it was invalid in France a perfectly useless and illegitimate ceremony; and then Princess Helene raised her dark eyes. " Can there be," she asked, " such a law as that ? " " Yes," answered madame ; " it is the law of the land." " Of this fair land of France ? " cried the girl. " Yes, it is the law, pure and simple, just as it stands," replied madame. " I did not know," said Princess Helene, " but then I have never heard anything about the law how should I? If I may say what 1 think about it, I I hardly think that law is fair ; but I will not interrupt you, madame." Madame la Comtesse went on with her picture, and it grew under her hands. How delicate and subtle the colors, how well blended ; and how picturesque was the picture of the young count as it stood out from the can- vas, clear and distinct. This was no weak-minded young man who knew what 196 THE BELLE OF LYNN. was rig'Kt, Dut had not the courage to cL it ; Vhis was a handsome, melancholy young prince, with whom a mil- ler's daughter fell in love, as fair Elaine fell in love with Sir Lancelot only in this case the miller's daughter had prevailed, and had inveigled him into some kind of cere- mony a marriage valid, Madame la Comtesse, admitted, in England, bat not in France. A chivalrous young prince, who saw plainly enough that he had made a terrible mistake in making an invalid marriage a marriage that he desired to retrieve in as noble a manner as possible, without harm or injury to any one, and in the most honorable fashion. So under madame's tkillfnl fingers, the picture grew and grew until Princess Helene began to like it. Then came the final touches of how he had returned home, had found out his mistake in every way, and had fallen in love witk Princess Helene. " My son," continued the clever, skillful woman, who swayed people by force of her own talent " my son would not conceal one word of this from you. I need not remind you, Belle Helene, that what has happened to him in England would not in the least interfere with the legality and validity of the marriage here in France." " But," asked Princess Helene, with an earnest expres- sion in her dark eyes, " is there no way of making this marriage of his right, if if he desires it ? " " He does not desire it ! " cried madame, eagerly, " and the only way in which it could be made right would be by repeating the ceremony with my formal sanction which, as I have said, I would rather die than give. It was a boyish folly. Help him, Princess Helene, to re- deem himself from the effects of it. He will never love, never marry, unless he marries you. Do not let this boyish folly stand between you ; forgive him for it ; he did not know you in those days. W'ill you for- give and forget this disagreeable incident in his career, and marry him, Princess Helene ? " Tears shone in mad- ame's eyes as she spoke, and her proud face quivered with emotion. " Will you," she repeated, eagerly, " try to love him, and promise to be his wife, Belle Helene? " The girl was silent for a few momenta. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 197 " I should like to have time to think," she said. " I cannot answer such an important question in a few mo- ments." " "What message shall I take to my son ? " asked mad- ame. " Tell Monsieur le Comte that I send him my dear love ; that I will think over my answer, and that, if it be 1 Yes,' when I meet him to-morrow evening at the ball of the British Embassy I shall wear a spray of stephanotis in my dress." And with that message madame went CHAPTER XXXIX. ALL the instincts of her race all the passionate love of her heart, were in his favor, yet Princess Helene hesi- tated for a few hours. She had the usual lofty patrician ideas that those belonging to the lower classes were not quite of the same creation as herself. If the same story had been told to her of one of her own class of life, she would have hesitated much longer; but the miller's daughter ! the claims of such a person could not by any possibility be worthy of consideration ; there could be nothing in them ; they were not worth a thought. She had the true aristocratic impulse of insolence and contempt for the lower classes which had descended to her from long generations from the time when the rights of the seigneur over the peasant were cruel, wicked, and barbarous when the great lords of rich domains were allowed to carry off the wives and daughters of their un- fortunate dependents ; the same instinct was in the heart of this young girl now. One of the lower class stood in her way let her be swept out of it ; the law was in favor of so sweeping her out let the law take its course. The picture madame had so skillfully painted was still in her mind the handsome, romantic, melancholy young prince in his dreary exile, and tike low-born English girl who had taken advantage 198 THE BELIJ: OF of it to thrust herself upon him and to inveigle him into what she supposed to be a marriage. It was strange that in the heart of Princess Helene there was no pity, no compassion for the girl whose claims were to be so lightly set aside. No kind or pitiful thought entered her mind concerning her, a low-born English girl, who had dared to raise her ambitious eves to the heir of the Soldanas. She would deserve all that she was about to receive ; she merited the punishment that the law would give her a miller's daughter to love the heir of the Soldanas ! And she said to herself, with an air of unutterable contempt, that she knew what English girls could be when they liked, and no doubt this one had been bold and forward in her advances to him. She must have been she a miller's daughter, he the heir of all the Soldanas. No doubt his handsome face and princely bearing attracted her, and she had made advances to him. It was easier to believe that, or any- thing else, than to believe that the Comte de Soldana had fallen in love with a girl of low birth a miller's daugh- ter ; and Princess Helene smiled contemptuously as she remembered what the low type of English girls was like very red cheeks and freckles, red sunburned hands. Surely the heir of the Soldanas had never loved one such as these! It was merely an adventure, a folly, such as most men had in their lives, to be forgotten, especially as the law was against it. His mother, at his request, had asked her to overlook it, to forgive it, to forget it, to help him out of the dilem- ma, and she was willing to do so. She looked upon it rather as an act of justice. He had been drawn into it, and now the law was helping him out of it, and she must help him too. To Princess Helene it seemed that what was the law of her country must be right. It was a strange state of things ; but as it existed, there was no more to be said about it. Princess Helene had never given much thought to the lower class; she lived in her fashion, haughtily uncon- scious of them; that they could have the same feelings, the same emotions, the s;ime love, the same pain as her- self never crossed her mind ; slu; had a lofty fashion of THE BELLE OF LTNH. 199 thinking of them as of some inferior kind of creation, born to their fate, and enabled to endure it very cheer- fully because their very natures were blunted to all more refined and sensitive feelings. She had never troubled herself in the least over them ; she had never thought of their wants or their cares. She had never soothed a weeping woman or a sorrowful child ; she had never fed the hungry, or visited the sick. As she was the head of a great race, certain large sums were given every year in her name for charitable purposes, and when the nation gave, her name was always foremost in the list ; but she knew nothing of it ; she had no personal interest in it. So now, when she came to think over the great question of her life, Ae feelings, the pain, the sorrow of one of that class of which she knew nothing did not affect her in the least, she did not even take them into considera- tion. That was no part of the difficulty; an invalid, illegal marriage with a low-born English girl ought to be set aside. With her the difficulty was had the count loved her? All the warm passion latent in her nature seemed to flame into life at the bare thought. If he had loved her ; if she had been the first and dearest love of his life, then the Princess Helene would have none of him. She would never share his love never succeed to the love of another. But his toother had told her it was not so he had not loved the miller's daughter it was only a common, kind- ly affection, born of gratitude that he had for her, but that his love lay at her feet ; she had but to stoop and take it. " How I should hate her," thought Princess Helene, " if I thought he had loved her." She thought it well over ; she wished it had been otherwise, and that this incident in the life of the man she loved had never happened, but, since it had taken place the only thing was to do the best possible thing under the circumstances, and the best thing was for the law to take its course, and for her to help the count out of his dilemma, as his mother had prayed her to do. But the one fact that caused her decision was her 200 THE BELLE OF LYNN. great love for the count. She was almost unconscious herself how great that love was ; she was equally uncon- scious of how much she was willing to give np for it She was thoughtful enough all day, but when eve- ning came she said to her maid : " What flowers have I to wear to-night, Finette ? " And the maid's answer was that, with her dress of white and gold, so cunningly intermixed no one could tell where the white began and the gold ended, there were flowers of a rich crimson bloom. " Take them away," says Princess Helene ; " I will wear nothing but stephanotis to-night." When she entered the ball-room, she wore a spray of the queenly flower, with its grand perfume, in the bod- ice of her dress. Madame de Soldana saw it at once, and her heart beat with triumph. She had won ; her son would marry the great heiress. She saw, with the eye of her mind, un- told glories opening out for the Sold anas, and her son would have for his true wife the most beautiful girl and the greatest heiress in France. She went at once to her son. " Leon," she said, " I am grateful and thankful Princess Helene is here ; and, my dear, bend your head when you remember the message she sent you that if she consented, after hearing your story, to become your wife, she would wear a spray of stephanotis. u Leon^ it it there!" The young count's handsome face grew ghastly white he trembled like a leaf in the wind. No criminal condemmed to rack ever felt worse. His self-respect had died on the night when Mme. Soldana had, as it were, extorted his promise ; but now all sense of honor eemed to die also. " Courage, Leon," said madame ; " noblesse oblige / " " Do not add satire, mother," he cried. " tfoblests oblige can never more apply to me. I have lost all claim to nobility forever. " " Leon," said madame, " I begin to think you are weak of character, and that is what no Soldana has ever been before you. You have made up your mind to a certain THE BELLE OF LYNN. 201 tourse ; go on boldly with it ; what is the use of looking back? I maintain th'it you are acting rightly, that you are doing what is best for the honor of your race and the flory of your house ; therefore, I repeat, go on boldly, f you feel that you. are not doing what is right, draw back if you can, but which ever course you pursue be manly over it. I hate to see you with a white face atid trembling limbs. I hate to see you nervous and frighten- ed like a woman." His face flushed hotly under the spur of her words. " I wish," he cried, bitterly, " that I were a better man or a worse. If I \vere better I should not do this deed at all; I should prefer poverty and exile to dishonor If I were worse than I am, I should feel more comfort- able in doing what I feel to be wrong." " Think of the future that lies before you," said mad- ame. " That spray of stephanotis opens out to you such a future as no other man in France can command. Courage, Leon ; it will never do to show the white feather now." " I have no such thought," he replied. " I remember all you have said, mother, and I will go to Princess Helene in a few minutes." Then his face grew deadly white again. " Are you ill, Leon ? " asked madame. " No," he replied. " I am not ill, but I have a atrange sound in my ears, and my brain is whirling/' Looking at him, madame saw in that moment he was not fit to go to the young heiress. He must recover himself. He knew the sound in his ears was the rushing of the water; he was looking at a fair, sweet face full of love for him. He was holding a thin, white hand in his own, and he was saying, " Remember, Lima, that a promise given over running water is doubly binding." Oh, mockery of words mockery of love mockery of the vows that he was first to break. That pitiless rush of running water seemed to fill his brain. He could hear it above all the music of the band, while Princess Helene wondered that he had not sought her, and Madame de Soldana began to wonder what she should do, 202 THE BELLE OF LYNN. " Leon," she said, sharply, " you must be mad. Rouse yourself. Mademoiselle de Saison is waiting for you. What are you thinking of? Why do you not go to her? " And as he crossed the ball-room, the face of Lima, his wife, went with him, with sweet, sad reproach in the blue eyes, and even as he drew near the princess he wished that he were dead. CHAPTER XL. A BEAUTIFUL face the more beautiful for its blushes- was looking into his ; dark eyes, bright with love, droop- ed from his ; a white, jewelled hand detached the spray of stephanotis from her dress, and held it out to him with a few murmured words that he could not hear. He must beat back with an iron hand these memories that seemed to stifle him the broad sheet of Allan Water ; the green banks ; his wife's sweet face and sweet voice singing so clearly : " For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he ; On the banks of Allan Water None so sad as she." He must beat them back. It was all over with the sweet romance of Allan Water. He was wooing a prin- cess now, and he was to be one of the foremost men in France. Good-by to the fair, sweet face he had kissed a thousand times; good-by to the beautiful lips that had borne the sweetness of honey for him ; good-by to the lovely eyes that always brightened for him, out into which he should look never more. Here was a princess to woo, a proud, beautiful lady, whose rich dress fell like sunbeams around her, and who held out to him the token that she loved him, the spray of steplmnotis. Farewell to all dreams of Allan Water and Allan Mill this is a new life beginning, a princess to woo and a future to make. If Lima would but cease to pull at his heart-strings ! It was necessity, he must leave her : the law commanded THE BELLE OF LTNH. 203 him to give her up. If he could but forget her for this half hour, at least, while he wooed the princess. With an iron hand he crushed it down. He bent over the Princess Helene and took the flower from her hand. " How am I to thank you ? " he said. " You are the most generous as you are the most noble of women." The dark eyes flashed into his with a light that seemed to reach and penetrate his soul. " Are you pleased ? " she asked, simply. " I am more than that," he answered. " How shall J thank you ? " " Do you wish to thank me ? " she whispered. " With all my heart," he answered. " We will go through the galleries," she said ; " there are pictures I long to see." But, in spite of her longing, Princess Helene saw none of the magnificent pictures hanging in the galleries that evening not one. The galleries were brilliantly lighted, and filled with flowers ; there were pretty recesses amongst them. " I will rest here," said Princess Helene. A beautiful woman, surrounded by flowers, rich blooms and rich perfumes all around her a proud face softened into marvelleous beauty by love dark eyes that sought his laden with the secret she had to tell a white neck, on which the gleaming diamonds rose and fell a smiling frace and tenderness that, coming from one so proud and aughty, were doubly charming; all this drew his atten- tion and compelled him to admire her. " You want to thank me, 7 ' she said, and the voice that uttered the words was sweet as the wind that blows over fresh orange-blossoms. " Thank me now." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. " I shall think of you every moment of my life," he said. Then he muttered an oath between his closed teeth ; for there it was again the rush of the running water, and the clear voice raised above it ! Would the sound never die from his ear ? For one single half hour, while he wooed the princess, could he not forget ? " Your mother gave you my message ? " she said. 204 THE BELLE OF LYNN. " And you see you have the stephanotis. But," she added looking into the handsome, agitated face, " why did you not tell me that story yourself ? " " I could not," he replied. " Were you afraid that it would prove a barrier be- tween us ? " she asked. He hated himself as he answered, " Yes, I was afraid." " You need not have been," she replied. " I under- stand, and I think you are acting wisely. I should like to ask you one more question, if I may? " " Ask what you will, Princess Helene," he answered. " 1 should like to know if you loved her I mean after the English fashion, where a man marries for love. Did you love her ? " He hated himself as he answered, " I would rather not speak of it, Princess Helene." " But I wish to know. I have had my dreams of the man I should like to love and marry. First and fore- most, his love must be all my own. I should not like the second part and place in his affections. Did you love her ? " He hated himself still more as he answered, slowly, " It was a boyish infatuation, and I was so terribly alone." " Yes, you must have been. I understand how it was ; Madame la Comtesse told me. You have my truest sym- pathy. That was the greatest barrier in my mind. I could never be second in the heart of the man I loved and married." " You would not be second in mine," he said. He owned to himself, with bitter contempt, as he spoke, that he could fall no lower sink no lower in his own esteem, and his mother had used these words, no- blesse oblige, to him. The light grew brighter on that beautiful face. " I am a French girl," she said. " All my sympathy, afl my feeling, all my love is for France ; but no one dis- likes the French system of love and marriage more than I do. I do not think it conduces to happiness or to the well-being of society. Since I was old enough to think of euch things at all," continued Princess Helene, " I THE BELLB OF LYNN. 205 have always resolved not to marry for wealth, or position, but for" Then her voice faltered. "But for what?" asked the young count, bending over her. " For love," she answered. That was the supreme moment of her life. She spoke out clearly and well. There was no hesitation in her voice. She loved him, and he might know it. " Then," he said, looking into the dark eyes, " I may infer from that, Princess Helene, that you " He paused, hardly daring to utter the words. " That I love you," she said, gently. " Yes, Monsieur le Comte, it is simply and perfectly true that I love you." She seemed to gain courage as she went on. " I have been proud and unyielding all my live," she said, " and I never thought that such words would fall easily from my lips, but I love you with all my heart." She expected some transport of gratitude, some few words of delight, but the face into which she looked was as the face of the dead. For he had ground another smothered oath between his teeth. He had not been able to hear what she said, for his ears were filled with the rush of running waters and the singing of a sweet, sad voice. 44 On the banks of Allan Water None so sad as she." " I love you," repeated Princess Helene, " and I am willing to place the happiness of my whole life in your hands." " You shall never regret it," he answered. To have saved his life he could have found nothing else to say. A wave of memory swept over him of the passionate wooing on the banks of Allan Water, of the passionate kisses he had given to Lima when they were in the boat afloat among the water-lilies. It was a different matter wooing a princess. A wistful expression crept into her dark eyes, and he saw it. It touched his heart more than all her loving 206 THE BELLE OF LYNN. words had done, for she, this great and beautiful heiress, loved him. " You shall never regret it," he said, speaking more warmly, and taking in his own the hand that had given him the spray of stepbanotis. " I will devote myself to making you happy." Then all her pride and hauteur seemed to fall from her like a garment. She was no longer Princess Helene, she was no longer the great heiress and beauty at whose feet the hearts of so many men lay ; she became a simple, loving girl, whose passionate heart found vent in simple words simple and true as Lima herself would. " I shall be happy with you," she said. " I will tell you now what has been a secret in my own heart until now. I have always cared for you, and loved you, from the first moment I saw you." " You make me the proudest and happiest of men ! " he cried ; but, do as he would, do the best he could, he could not speak with any enthusiasm. Wooing a princess was a very different thing from wooing Lima on the banks of Allan Water. She looked at him with eyes so full of faith and trust that his heart ached. " I am very happy," she said, gentlv. " I have wondered often since I saw you first, if your heart would ever turn to me ? I am glad it has done so. I am glad and happy that you love me for you do love me do you not ? " He had not one moment to wait ; if he had hesitated, he would have said no, and so lost all. He answered a& quickly as he could speak : " Yes, I love you, Princess Helene." A smile of unutterable content parted her lips. " I am happy," she murmured, gently. " I am the happiest girl that lives on earth. And you do not you never did love her ? " " A boyish fancy," he answered. He dared not to say that he had never loved her ; it seemed to him almost as though the utterance of such words must strike him dead. " I think," said Princess Helene, " that we have a iong THE BELLAS (F LYNN. 207 and happy life before us, with brighter prospects than fall to the lot of most people." " I shall have you to thank for all that is most pleasant in mine," he said. " And I shall have you to thank for all that is happiest in mine," said Princess Helene. Then he admired the beauty of the white hand he still held clasped in his own ; he kissed it, and then the won- drous beauty of the face struck him as it had never done before. Then came a moment when, in answer to some- thing that Princess Helene said, he kissed the proud lips, and then it seemed as if she gave her heart, her love, and her life to him for evermore. CHAPTER XLL WHEN that brilliant ball had ended, when he had placed Princess Helene in her carriage, her dark eyes looking a tender " good-night " into his, her hand still warm with the clasp of his, he said to himself that he was the most miserable man in the wide world, for he had done the most shameful deed in it, and he had al- ways been so proud of himself as an honorable man. True that he had acted in accordance with the law, and with the spirit of the law; true that many others had done the same thing ; true that he had read, since his mother called his attention to them, the histories of sev- eral lawsuits wherein minors like himself had contracted marriages, which said marriages had been set aside in every case as invalid and illegal. Notwithstanding all that, he felt on himself the brand of villainy. And yet, he asked himself, how few could have re- sisted such a temptation ? On the one side France, his fair domains, his titles, honors, wealth, and the brilliant prospects that his marriage with Princess Helene opened out to him compliance with the law, his mother's happiness, the glory and honor of his race ; on the other poverty, the extinction of his family, exile and Lima. A terrible temptation ! And the law was on his Bide. 208 THE BELLE OP LYNN. Had he been a bad man, deliberately plotting how he could ruin an innocent girl, how he could betray and desert her, it would have been a different matter ; but it was the very law of his own land that made his marriage invalid, and compelled him, for position's sake, to leave her. He said to himself that it was hardly to be called yielding to a temptation, but rather to a necessity. He could not rest, and he could not sleep. Far into the night madame heard him pacing his room with restless footsteps, and when she could bear it no longer she went to him. " Leon, my son," she said, " let me come in. I cannot sleep, because I know that you are unhappy. Let me come in and talk to you." He unfastened the door, and madame entered his room. A cry of pain and wonder rose to her lips when her eyes fell on the face of her son, so white, worn and haggard. " Leon," she cried, " you are suffering." He laughed with bitter contempt. " Yes, mother," he replied. " I suffer greatly. It is not natural that the best part of a man should die with- out it, and I may say that the best part of me has died by inches." " Sentiment, Leon," said madame, quietly. " When you lose a little more of that you will be all right," but she could not affect to remain insensible to the pain she read in his face. " What can I do to help you, Leon ? " she asked. " I know, of course, that you must suffer. Decide which way you will, you cannot escape pain. Can I help you I can I do anything that will comfort or console you ? " " No," he replied. " I do not see how you can help me, mother no one can. I must bear my weight of shame and sorrow alone until I die." "Perhaps," said madame, half scornfully, "you would rather give up all the wealth and privileges that you were so delighted to regain, and return to exile and what yon are pleased to call love ? " " No, he replied, bitterly ; I am not insincere. Frankly speaking, I havejaot the courage to give np mY THE BELLE OP LYNN. 209 present life and return to exile. I could not do it, moth- er now." Madame's face beamed with delight. This was indeed triumph. To hear him say these words was to her proof complete of how perfect her triumph was. She could afford to be kind and sympathetic, now that the vic- tory was won. " I can help you in one way," she said. " Leave the management of this affair in my hands. I will settle it all for you. I know you are agitated by the thought of disagreeable scenes You shall be spared them. Leave all to me." " I do not know which will be most cruel," he said : " to tell her myself, or leave it to you. Oh, Lima, my loving, gentle darling, that it should have come to this ! " I think," said madame, " it would be much better to leave it to me. I could say many things for you that you cannot say for yourself. You would be easily influ- enced easily worked upon ; I should not. However painful the scenes that come before me, I shall have strength of mind to go through them, because I shall keep that one thought of the Soldanas before my eyes." " Honor that has no longer any existence," he said, mournfully. " That is a phrase which all my life 1 shall dislike and dread to hear. The honor of the Soldanas, and I,, the last of the race what am I ? " " ' The noblest Roman of them all,' " quoted madame, with a smile. " Not the least of them all, by any means, because you have had the courage to make a grand sacrifice." " I have sacrificed Lima," he said, sadly. " I do not know what to do how to proceed. I am married in England, according to the English law. I have a wife there. Yet I am engaged to marry Princess Helene. There never was, never could be, a more humiliating situation." " It will all come right in the end," said madame. " A little patience, a little courage, and all will be well. I must help you, Leon. I have been thinking it over. I will go to England for you, and settle what is, I own, a rery unpleasant piece of business. There need be no 210 THE BELLE OF LTON. lawsuit, no exposure, no publicity, no scandal. I will go to see her, and tell her exactly how the matter stands. If she has any sense at all, she will listen to me and fol- low out my suggestions." Count de Soldana looked at his mother in wonder ; he could not fancy her talking to Lima, or standing by the banks of Allan Water, or watching the blue pigeons fly over the red roof of the old mill. " "Would you really do that for me ? " he asked. " Go to England and tell her yourself, and and try your best to comfort her? Oh, mother," he cried, with something like a sob, " you do not know how she loves me ! " He thought of their parting at the station, of their farewell, of her bitter grief, of his promise to be back long before the leaves grew on the trees, and he shud- dered as he realized what she must suffer. "It seems to me, mother," he said, "as though you were going away, sword in hand, to stab her. If she cared less for me, if she loved me less, it would not be half so horrible. I do not think I could bear it. It would seem worse than murder to me it does seem so now." " Trust to me," said Madame de Soldana. " You have won my gratitude by yielding to my wishes in what 1 know to be the most important step in your life. I will repay you by being kindness, itself, Leon ; I will, Jsdeed. She shall have an income settled upon her that will keep her in more than comfort." He looked at his mother quite suddenly. " I wonder," he said, " if if her father will take her back again. He was so unwilling to give her to me." " Unwilling" repeated madame. " He ought to have Ifelt honored beyond all measure that yon honored the girl with any notice at all." The young count thought of the scene in the little arbor at the mill, ancT of the look on the miller's face when he bade him beware lest he might commit murder. " If she had been the noblest lady in the land, mother, and I the poorest peasant, her father could not have been more unwilling to give her to me. He has never seen or spoken to her since her marriage, and the kindest THE BELLE OF LYNN. 211 word he has for her is ' that he hopes the curse of the disobedient may follow her and cling to her so long as she lives.' " " Did he say that ? " asked madame, looking unusually impressed. " Poor child ! " The words fell almost un- consciously from her lips. " But you see, Leon," she added, " that the curse is fulfilled the curse of the dis obedient has followed her. She married you against hei father's wish in defiance of his expressed commands and the very marriage turns out to be invalid and worth- less. I think," continued madame, " that I have never heard, in my whole life, of a more signal retribution. 4 The curse of the disobedient ! ' What a phrase ! How keenly he must have felt to have spoken so.'* " And what an arrant coward, what a villain I must be, after taking her from such a father and such a home, to abandon her ! Yet, oh, my fair and well-loved France, how leave thee ? Mother, it would have been better for me to have died away in England there, and have been laid to rest by the shore of Allan Water." THE BELLE OF LTNM. CHAPTEK XLII. " THE sooner it is done, now, the better," said madame to herself ; " all delay is dangerous. I will go to England uext week." She watched with keen anxiety the next meeting be- tween Princess Helene and her son. She found there was no cause for anxiety ; the girl was too much engross- ed in the beauty and happiness of her love's young dream to notice anything amiss with her lover. That he seemed unhappy or distrait never occurred to her. She had told him that she loved him, and she had promised, when all these disagreeable affairs were ended, to become his wife ; surely that ought to content any man to make any man happy. Princess Helene considered the gift of her love and the promise of her hand the greatest favor the earth could grant. It was only in her presence that Count de Soldana made the faintest pretence at happiness; apart from her he was silent, brooding always over melancholy thoughts completely changed all his gayety and light- heartedness gone forever, yet, rousing himself every now and then, asking himself why he need be so unutter- ably miserable, when after all, he was simply obeying the law of the land setting aside a marriage that noth- ing could legalize or make valid. " A wife in England no wife in France." It was the law, and he mnst obey it ; but his self-respect was gone, never to return. When he was with Princess Helene, her beauty, her wit and talent, her absorbing love for him made him comparatively cheerful and happy. He laughed with her, and she had, in perfection, the happy faculty that charms all men the power to amuse them and make them laugh. No one ever passed a dull quarter of an hour with Princess Helene, When he was with her, he THE BELLE OF LYNN. 213 forgot all else, but when absent from her he was the most miserable of men. It had been agreed that there should be no formal an- nouncement of the engagement until this " disagreeable affair " in England had been settled. Madame la Com- tesse and Madame Yesey both agreed in that. The young people could meet, could see more of each other, learn to know each other better. " The disagreeable affair " in England would be man- aged very smoothly. Madame de Soldana would go her- self ; she would undertake to conduct the affair, and the lawyers of course, must finish it. The marriage must be pronounced null and void according to French law ; and then a settlement must be made upon the young person that would end it. As soon as she returned from England the engagement must be announced, and the marriage take place as quickly as so grand a ceremony could be arranged. That was madame's programme, and it seemed a very fair one. She would not tell either Madame Yesey or Princess Helene that she was going to England better that they should not know it. Neither would she take maid or attendent with her. " "We cannot be too careful," she said to her son, when he implored her not to travel without an escort. " If I take no one with me, there will be no one to re- peat what takes place, or to tell what happens." Greatly to his distress, she started alone, and never for one moment while she was away did his own words leave him that it seemed to him as though she were going, sword in hand, to slay the beautiful and gentle girl whose only fault had been loving him too well. The hoar came when his mother started for England on the mission which shame forbade him to fill himself. He never forgot the date or the day ; it was warm and bright for the time of the year, with a blue sky and a faint odor of autumn flowers that were living still the 10th of November and he remembered with a bitter sighi that he had been away nearly a year, he who was to have returned before the leaves were on the trees. Madame de Soldana bade him a cheery farewell* 214 THE BELLE OP LYNN. " It seems a strange thing to be able to travel from France to England without fear and without disguise. And now, Leon, make hay while the sun shines profit by my absence. I hope to bring you back liberty and freedom and all good tidings. Trust me," she added, " to make everything right with the young person. I shall persuade her either to go back home or to go to America, where she would in all probability marry again." Oh, Heaven ! the spasm of horror that seized him at the thought. Lima married again ; the girl whom he had loved, wooed, won, worshiped, married to another ! and something told him it could never be, that for Lima there could be no other love, no other marriage possible. Madame la Comtesse saw from the pain on his face that she had made a terrible mistake, and she repented her hastily spoken words. " You are sure that I have spoken the address right," she said " Sweetbrier Cottage, near Lynn." How the picture of the cottage rose before him, buried almost in the spreading boughs of the green trees. He could see the little garden, with its old-fashioned flowers, where in the summer evenings he used to sit, happy enough with his cigar and coffee, while Lima sat near to him working or reading, her every thought intent upon him. He remembered, and the memory brought back to him most bitter pain, one evening when he had clasped her in his arms and told her that he was the happiest of the Soldanas because, having lost everything else, he still had her. He remembered the rapture of love and content that had overspread her beautiful face, and he loathed himself more than he had ever done before. Madame de Soldana went on her way, and her son re- turned to his luxurious home. A note came from Mad- ame de Vesey, asking him, as Madame Comtesse was out of town, to dine with them and spend the evening with them. It was because he could not bear the agony of his own thoughts that he went. Do as he would, he followed madame every step of the way, do as he would, he could not tear his thoughts from Lima and the banks of Allan Water. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 215 Princess Helene laughed, talked and snng to him. She was superbly dressed, her beauty was shown to its greatest perfection. She was more animated, more viva- cious than he had ever seen her, and yet he conld not take his thoughts from what was going to pass on the banks of Allan Water. "You are grave and distant, Leon," said Princess Helene. " You have deep lines on your face why need yon? Why should you, when you know that 1 love you ? " Princess Helene was one of those who saw nothing outside herself. If her lover looked grave, it must be that he was anxious or fearful lest she did not care suf- ficiently for him, and her only idea, if she saw him look grave or anxious, was to reassure him and repeat to him her earnest protestations. If any one had told her that he was quite satisfied with the assurance of her love, and needed no more, but that his thoughts and interest were absorbed by that dis- agreeable English affair, she would not have believed it. " I love you, Leon," she said ; " do not look troubled or anxious, dear. How long will madame be away ? " " I do not know," he answered. " She has gone to Belle d'Or, I understand," said Prin- cess Helene ; " she told me that she stood sorely in need of a few days' rest. Come and sing some of Mendels- sohn's duets with me," He rose and went with her to the piano, but while he sung, and while the two beautiful young voices floated through the room, he was with his mother all the time on her journey. He was with her in the train, then he could hear the wash of the waves on the shore. He WHS with her on board the steamboat, he could hear the throbbing of the great engines and the rush of the water through the wheels ; he was with her when the passengers landed and exchanged steamboat for train. He was with her as the train went at full speed through the land ; he sees green woods in the distance, and a great broad mere, which he knows is Allan Water ; he sees the picturesque old mill and the stream, then down the high-road to lovely, leafy Lynn. 216 THE BELLE OF LTNK. There is the grammar school where he had tanght, with its room darkened by tall trees that grew all around it, down the picturesqne old streets out on to a beautiful road, and there in the midst of the trees stands the cot- tage. He sees his mother open the garden-gate, and rap at the door that was always set wide open for him ; he could see Lima going to her, full of wonder and surprise, and his mother holds the sword in her hand with which to slay her. And the fancy is so vivid, so real, that he cries out in passionate pain. Princess Helene looks at him with wondering eyes, and he is ashamed of himself. " What is it, count ? " asked the beautiful heireee ; " are you hurt or ill ? " " No ; I was dreaming," he said. " How can a man dream while he is singing ? " she asked, half inclined to be offended, because she did not know what he was dreaming about. "I saw it was only a vivid, foolish fancy, which Eassed as it came I saw a sword raised, and ready to ill," he answered. " You have been thinking of the days of the Revolu- tion," she said ; " they will never return ; we shall never see another queen on the scaffold." " I hope not," he said, and to neither of them came a thought of the time when the beautiful empress would fly for her life, and seek protection on English shores. " I will not sing any more," said Princess Helene. " I thought music would cheer you, but it seems to make you more melancholy ; let us play a game at chess." Princess Helene liked to play a game at chess ; she could show off the matchless beauty of her white arms. The chess-board was brought out, and they sat down. How would his mother break it to her ? In what words would she tell her that her marriage was illegal, and that although she was his wife in England, she was no wife in France ? How could Lima bear it ? Would she cry out, or faint, or fall, or die? Two dark eyes were looking earnestly into his, and Princess Helene was saying, in a low, tender voice : THE BELLE OF LYNN. 217 "I am sure you are not well, Leon. I shall grow anxious over you soon." And he said to himself that he should go mad if these thoughts did not cease to haunt him. CHAPTER XLIH. ALTHOUGH it was November, there were no fogs on the banks of Allen Water ; the sun shone, although it never now, as in summer-time, brightened the waters into a sheen of gold ; they were dark, tranquil, and icy cold, yet the sun shone on them ; the sedges and reeds were green, but the boughs of the lime-trees were all bare, and no flowers grew by the margin ; the water-lilies were all dead. Still, Allan Water was beautiful in its wintery dress. It was one of those rare Novembers that have in them a lingering touch of Autumn ; a few leaves linger, golden crimson and russet brown ; the sky keeps its blue, and the brambles by the hedge-side are full of color. There was no discontent about the weather this November ; every one praised it, but hoped it would not be followed by too severe a winter. On the banks of Allan Water stood one who watched sunlight and blue skies with sad eyes and a sad heart ; he had been away nearly a year, and when he went it was but to have been for a few days, and already winter was nigh at hand. She had changed greatly during these few months ; she was quite unlike the bright-eyed Lima whose fair face had made sunshine in the old home. She was like a drooping flower ; the graceful lines of the tall, slender figure were there no longer, she was pale and thin ; the dainty bloom had gone from her face ; the light had gone from her eyes ; even the sheen seemed less bright on her golden hair. A flower, still fair and sweet, but over whom a blight had fallen. That day she had been almost desperate. The fever of pain had risen until it seemed to her that her very heart was on fire. She conld not bear the little cottage 218 THE BELLE OF LYNN. that yet seemed filled with his presence. She could not bear the rooms that his handsome face had brightened, nor the chair in the pretty bay-window where he had been accustomed to sit, nor the nook in the garden where he had liked best to sit, where the flowers that he had called the white lilies of France grew. She could bear it no longer. It was with the pained and passionate cry of a wounded dam that she went out of the house that November afternoon. Down to the banks of Allan Water, where she could see the red roof of the old home and the flight of the blue pigeons, the home she had left in sorrow, and was never to enter more. There was the boat. There was the spot where the water-lilies grew, where he had kissed her and caressed her while her heart beat with happiness ; there was the running water singing now as it had sung then over which he had held her hands clasped while she made him her promise. " A promise made over the running water is doubly binding." She could hear the very tones of his voice as he uttered the words, T)ut where was he f She could not understand it. His long absence was a marvel to her. Where was he ? What was he doing ? He had not forgotten her, for the hurriedly written letters still came. He had not deserted her, for in each letter there was some allusion to his coming back. Could it be that he loved her less f Good Heavens ! Death itself would be better than that ! If he loved her as he had done one year ago, could he have remained all this time away from her? Ah, no a thousand times no. He could not bear her out of his presence then. If she were away from him only a few minutes he would cry out for her, and she would hasten back to him with a sweet smile and loving words. Now he had been long months absent. She had writ- ten to ask him to come back ; she had written to ask him if she might join him, and the answers had always been " No." She had written to ask him what was the busi- ness that detained him there, and his answer was always that it was useless for him to attempt to explain, that he THE BELLE OF LYNN. 219 would tell her all about it when he came home. She could bear anything, she said to herself, if only he had not learned to love her less. His love had been her sun- shine, her life, her world ; she had given up everything for it : she had left home, father, mother, all, for him. Sinoe she had known him she had lived only for him ; without him the sun had no brightness, the skies no light, the flowers no sweetness, the birds no song ; without him the world held no sweetness, no brightness, no happiness it was a cold, horrible blank, and to-day it pressed upon her, it drove her desperate, almost mad ; and as she stood there on the banks of Allan Water, in the whole wide world there was no heart so sad or so desolate. She stretched out her arms to the wide, deep waters. " Oh, my love ! my love ! come back to me ! " she cried ; " come back to me ! My life is weary I am tired of waiting for you and longing for you ! Oh, love, come back ! " But the wind wailed through the bare boughs, and the waters washed wearily on the bank. No voice answered her, no lover came with loving words and warm caresses, HO hand clasped hers, no lips touched hers. Chill, dreary silence blank, hopeless desolation. She wrung her hands in silent, hopeless despair. If she could have crossed the water, if she could have gone home and wept out her sorrow on her mother's breast, if she could have cried out and prayed to her father to draw back his curse, for it was weighing her down, it would have been some relief to her. If she could have spoken to any one about it, if she could even have heard what other people said about his absence, it would have been easier to bear ; but the chill, cold silence seemed to be fixed round her like a band of iron, and she could not break it. Her first thought every morning had been, " Perhaps he may come back to-day ; " her last thought every night was, " News of him may come in the morning." At first his absence had been a nine days' wonder; Ejople had been interested and curious. The rector of ynn and the principal of the college had called ; the cotuif a old pupils, the friends aud parents of his pupils 320 THE BBLLE OF LYNH. had called ; many kindly inquiries had been made, much interest had been felt in the beautiful young wife who was so lonely. But she never allowed one shadow of blame to fall upon him. She answered all inquiries with a smile ; she spoke always in the tone of one who had no cause for unjust thoughts, one whose heart was at rest. She never allowed herself to be seen with a shadow on her face, though she grew thin and pale, and an expression of weariness had crept into the eyes which had once been so full of love. Still, she spoke brightly and cheerfully, and not one soul in all Lynn knew of the bitterness of her pain not one. But of late the inquiries had ceased ; people asked no longer when her husband was coming back, and why he had been so long away. It had been a nine days' wonder now it became an accepted fact. The young French teacher had gone to France, and was staying there for some time, and his beautiful wife, the Belle of Lynn, was living alone with her little maid- servant at the cottage ; the miller still refused to hear his daughter's name mentioned. There was much kindly sympathy expressed for her, as her sweet face grew paler and her eyes lost their bright light; but no one ever dared to utter, before her, one word of surprise at her husband's long absence. So she had borne her pain and her desolation until she could bear it no longer, and seeking the spot she loved best, the banks of Allan Water, she cried out to earth and heaven for pity and for help ; but none came. The afternoon was nearly over when she went back to the cottage. " I wish," she said to herself, as she entered the little parlor "I wish I could drug myself to sleep, and not wake up until he is here." It was almost dark then. Something on the table, white and shining, drew her attention. Was it a letter from him ? Her heart beat and her hands trembled. As she raised it, the chill of desolation seemed almost to stop the very current of her life. THE BELLE OF LTNH. It was not from him ; it was simply a note in an en- velope, with a copy of the " Times " newspaper. She opened it eagerly. Her heart and her instinct told her it was about him it must be about him. Eagerly, with trembling fingers, she opened the note. It was from the principal of the college, saying with what surprise and delight he had read the inclosed para- graph in the " Times," and how earnestly he hoped it was true ; but as there was no mention of dates, he did not know whether it had just happened, or whether she had known it for some little time. In any case, he had sent her the paper, and should be pleased to hear more details from her. What could it mean ? what could it be ? Something about her husband, she was sure her heart told her so. Was it good was it news of him ? Yet how could news of him get into the " Times ? " She took the paper which held such all-important news for her, and went to the window with it, but the shades of night had deepened ; her heart was beating so quickly, there was a mist before her eyes that dimmed them. She could not see. She cried out in an agony of impatience. And the little maid came running in. " I want a light, Jean," she cried, quickly. " A light I cannot see." The girl looked half frightened at the white face and the wild, burning eyes. " Oh, make haste make haste," she wailed. " It is something about him, and I cannot see." When the lamp was lighted it was not much better, for ilie dim mist of tears tilled her eyes, and she could not aee. 222 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER XLIY. AT last she found it, not amongst the leading articles or the important announcements told in capital letters not in the records of the different courts, or the pages devoted to the chronicles of Parliament it was a small paragraph which drew attention to an act of kindness and justice on the part of the Emperor Napoleon which merited all praise. In few brief words it told the history of the De Soldanas, of the unjust confiscation, of the poverty and cruel exile of the head of the house, of his exile and death in England, of his son's life spent in exile, and of his marriage with the daughter of a house as noble as his own and quite as unfortunate, of his death in the midst of poverty and privation. It told of the young son, Leon Comte de Soldana, born and reared in exile ; and then the words seemed to rise up like flames before her then it told how the friends of the De Soldanas had had a petition before the emper- or, begging him to do an act of justice which would add to the splendor of his fame to restore to the Soldanas their estates, their wealth, honor, and dignities ; and the emperor, greatly to his honor and praise, had acceded. It told how the young heir had been living in poverty in England, gaining his living by teaching French at St. Edward's Grammar School, in the old-fashioned town of Lynn how he returned to France, and, with his mother, Madame la Comtesse de Soldana, had taker possession of his estates ; of the royal welcome accorded to him. and concluded by saying that no one of the many acts of clemency exercised by the emperor redounded so much to his honor as this. She read it at first with breathless haste, with faint low cries of surprise and emotion, with wonder so great that it was absolute pain ; then with one half the sense of what she had read in her mind she went through it again and again, slowly, carefully, every word seeming to bum THE BELLE OF LTNW. 223 itself on her brain. Then the paper fell from her hand, and she sat still. How long, she knew not. It was as though life had suddenly failed her. Slowly her thoughts died one by one ; she could feel them going ; one by one they seemed to fold themselves up and die away. There was a time during which she had no consciousness; she lived and breathed, hut th<> soul within her seemed dead. She did not think, <: suffer, or realize. Then, slowly as they had died, her thoughts came back. Slowly as all emotion had faded from her, it came back, until the full terror of the posi- tion lay plainly before her eyes. This, then, was what had kept him, this was why he had not cared to return to her, this was the business that had kept him away from her so long. She had pictured him overworked, overtired, always busy, always occupied, perhaps longing to be back with her, yet unable to return, while the reality was that he had been living in the midst of luxury and splendor, a favorite at court, a leader of brilliant society, while she had been waiting and watching for him on the banks of Allan "Water. " Oh, Heaven be pitiful ! " was the cry that rose from her lips ; " oh, Heaven be pitiful ! " This was what had kept him away, not business, not work, not the inability to return which she had thought might arise from one cause or another, but this, that he had regained his lost fortune, and had no wish to tell her. She saw now how completely she was outside this new life of his. He had kept her in profound ignorance of it all, per- haps even he never intended her to know. She would never have known but for the " Times " newspaper, and then she could not bear the pain of those thoughts. It might be better than she feared. It was just possible that he had kept all knowledge of what was going on from her, lest she should suffer from anxiety or sus- pense; he had always been so considerate in shielding her from trouble and pain. It might be that he intend- ed to return and tell her all about it when there was no longer any doubt. She tried to comfort herself with these hopes, but they 224 THE BELLE OF LYNN. broke down suddenly, she could find no comfort in them ; there was nothing before her but black, bitter despair. " Oh, love, how could you do this cruel deed to me ? " she cried. " Oh, love, how could you so far forget me keep our interests so far apart! Oh, love, had I been rich and you poor I would have flown to you ! Love, had the fortune been mine, I should have gone to you first and laid it at your feet I should not have enjoyed it and left you desolate ! " She tried to comfort herself by remembering how much he had loved her, how much he had worshipped her, how eagerly he had tried to win her, how he had taken her from her parents and home, how happy they had been together, how he loved her; even when they parted, he had kissed her as though he could not let her go. Surely she was needlessly alarmed : no man's love died so suddenly as that ; above all, not love like Leon's, that had been so tender and true. Surely there was no need for her great fears ; she need not tremble and shudder as though the cold winds were passing over her, no need for her heart to break, no need for those terrible doubts. He had loved her most dearly, he would so love her still ; no need for the bitter, passionate sobs that rose to her lips and died there ; no need that she should cry out that he was her lover and her husband, but that he had left her, he had forgotten her. Still, the time must come when he must remember her; she was his wife; she must take her own part in his life ; he could not marry her and leave her, no need to fear. Then the dark clouds would infold her, and she would cry out again that he had gone from her and that she was nothing in his life. " A great favorite at court." Her eye caught those words. What did it mean ? That her husband had his place in the most brilliant circle in Europe, had his place amongst princes and peers, amongst the most noble, the moat wealthy, the most exclusive, ah, and the most beau- tiful of the land. The most beautiful that would mean that fair, high- born women surround him, and who could see him with- THE BELLE OF LTTfN. 225 out admiring and loving him? Here at Lynn in the quaint, old-fashioned town of Lynn all the women admired him, and what would they do in that brilliant, far-off Paris. A new pain, a new, bewildering sensation of jealousy shot through her heart like a flame. She clasped her hands. " Not that," she cried, " anything but that ; oh,, Heaven be pitiful, I could not bear that." Let him enjoy his newly found fortunes if he would, without her ; let him forget, if he must, her claims upon him, and her right to share his life, but that he should learn to care for another not that. And as she sat alone, desolate and sad beyond all words to tell, all kinds of thoughts passed through her mind ; what would her father say now when he heard that the husband he had scorned for her was one of the wealthiest men in France ? What would he say when he knew that she would share her husband's wealth and title, as she must share them some day ; he could not stay from her forever. What would the people say, the sturdy neighbors and friends who had been so interested in her love-story; how astonished and surprised they would feel. So few people knew anything of his birth and position ; he had simply been the young French teacher to them, a very handsome and fascinating man ; but who would dream that he was Lord of Soldana? And then, as she sits in a quiet evening silence trying to form excuses for him, try- ing to weave faint hopes for herself, she hears quite sud- denly the sound of a carriage on the high-road. The night is so still she cannot mistake the sound. Only one person could be coming to the cottage, and that would be her husband. At first she tried to rise, with a faint pas- sionate cry of surprise, but she found herself quite unable to move; her limbs trembled, her nerves failed; she could not move or stir. It must be he, for the carriage comes nearer and nearer. She cries out again and again in her passion of excite- ment when she hears it stop at the gate. It must be THE BELLE OF LYNN. Leon. Her white lips open to call out his name, but the sound dies on them, and she thinks surely if this passion- ate, quick beating of her heart does not cease, she shall fall on her face dead. The carriage has stopped. To her strained ears every sound is audible the opening of the carriage door, the unlatching of the garden gate, the footsteps up the gar- den path. But surely they are not his steps. His steps how often she had listened to them were quick, eager, hur- ried ; these were slow. He had always opened the little door of the porch and come straight to her. Whoever this was stood for some minutes outside the porch, as though looking around. Then came a rap that seemed to Lima in her excited gtate as thongh it beat upon her very heart. She heard the door open, and the little maid answer some questions addressed to her. She heard, as one in a dream, steps leading to the parlor door. And then it was opened. The little maid stood there for one minute with a bewil- dered face. Then a tall, statuesque-looking lady, richly dressed, with the dignity of an empress, came in at the door. She stood still on the threshold for some moments, look- ing eagerly at the beautiful, colorless face. " I am afraid I have disturbed you," she said. " I had hoped to have reached Lynn by an earlier train." "Who are you?" The white lips seemed rather to shape than to utter the words. The lady smiled, but it was not altogether a pleasant smile, as she answered : " I am Madame la Comtesse de Soldana, and I have come from France to see you." THE BELLE OF CHAPTER XLY. FOB some few seconds the picturesque, dignified lady and the beautiful, worn-looking girl stood looking at each other in perfect silence ; then inadame spoke : " You will be surprised to see me," she said ; " I am afraid, indeed, that I have startled you, but the business on which I wish to see you is so important that I pre- ferred to come myself." The beautiful young face, with its wearied expression, in its frame of golden hair, was raised to hers, the beauti- ful lips parted with a half smile of welcome, half sigh of dismay. " Madame de Soldana," she said, gently, and then quite suddenly she remembered Leon's description of his mother. " The poorest and the proudest woman in Europe." Poor no longer, but proud, ah, yes, every curve of the statuesque figure, every line on the haughty face told that. His mother Leon's mother ! Leon's mother come to see her on important business! Where, then, in Heaven's name, was he ? Why should his mother come and not he ? There must be something wrong, and be- fore that proud patrician lady, Lima felt her courage fail, her fair face grew colorless, and her lips quivered with pain. " You are my husband's mother," she said, slowly. A light gleam in madame's dark eyes. " I am the mother of the Count de Soldana," she re- plied. " And I," cried Lima, hurriedly, " I am his wife. I remember that long ago he spoke to me of you. I am his wife, madame, but where is he, why is he not here ? my very heart is weary of waiting for him ; why is he not here ? " " I have much to tell you," said madame. " I have travelled all these weary miles in order to do so bat I 228 THE BELLE OF LYKH. will defer what I have to say until I have taken some refreshment. I dismissed the carriage, thinking it prob- able that I could remain here for the night ; I leave for Paris to-morrow morning." Lima rang for the maid whose face of wonder and dismay at the stately presence of madame would have amused her at another time ; now she could only ask herself the one question, why was madame here? Where was her husband, and why was he not here ? In a few minutes the little table whereat Leon had sat *o often was spread, and madame, with all the grace and lignity of an empress, was seated at tea. A simple little tea, but very acceptable after that long journey, for ma- dame had not halted by the way : she had been too in- tent on her business. She drank her tea in silence ; the wistful appeal in those blue eyes did not touch her in the least. She had come here to carry out certain measures, and it must be done. She sat in silence her own in- stinct told her that, with such tragic news, idle or com- monplace consolation would be cruelty. But Lima drew nearer and nearer to her. She waa like a bird fascinated by the eyes of a snake. She did not wish to go near madame, but she could not avoid it ; she seemed drawn there. She hovered round the stately figure, and round the little table, her beautiful eyes ask- ing questions that any other woman less hard of heart must have answered ; at last she said, gently, and in a voice quite unlike her own : " Madame, where is my husband, Leon ? " " Monsieur le Count is in Paris," answered Mine, de Soldana. She knew that she must not once allow thii word husband, or admit the title. " And why," said Lima, " why is he not here ? " " That is what I have come to tell yon," said madame. "It is an unpleasant business, and I thought I could manage it better than my son." Yet it was not easy to begin. She remembered Leon's words, that it seemed to him she had started out with sword in hand to slay ; and, though she was by no means of a tender or sympathetic nature, she did not like the task before her j yet, it must be gone through, for the THE BELLE OF LYNN. 229 honor of the Soldanas. It was not easy to begin. She rose from her chair ; she walked np and down the little room stopping at times to think if it were possible that her son, who seemed so thoroughly at home and at ease in the magnificent rooms of his chateau, if he could ever have been happy here, in this little, homely house, pretty enough, but only a homely little cottage after all. Could he ever have felt at his ease here ? How out of place that princely face and figure must have been here; and then she remembered her son's words that Lima had cheered his loneliness and bright- ened his exile. How lonely he must have been she could tell better now she had seen the pretty but isolated little home, and her heart softened just a little to the girl who had helped him to bear his exile; not to any great ex- tent every thing must give way to the honor of the Soldanas. And as madame paced restlessly up and down the room, she remembered a story told of one of her ancestors, the Marquis de Faille a story that perhaps helped the Revolution more than any other told in France. He was late in joining a fete given at a neighboring chateau, and he gave orders that his coachman should drive at a hard pace and stop for nothing on the way. Nothing ! He was hurried and anxious to be there. They had to drive through the streets of the village, all of which belonged to him. It was after school-hours, and the village children were all playing in the streets. Once, twice, thrice, with an impatient oath, the marquis had seen the carriage stop- ped because a child was in the way ; once, twice, thrice he cried out to his coachman not to stop again, but, if the little demons came in the way to ride over them. And the next that came in the way, a fair-haired little girl, was ridden down, ridden over, not killed, but crush- ed and mangled, so there could be no more youth and no more beauty for her. Monsieur le Marquis cared nothing for the pain of the child, nothing for the anguish of the parents, nothing for the hatred and execrations of the crowd, nothing for the fact that when he reached the chateau the blood of the child was still wet on his car- 230 THE BELLE OF LYNN. riage-wheels ; lie cared only that he had not lost much of the fete. That was her ancestor, for she belonged to the once powerful family of the De Failles, and their instincts and traditions were all hereditary ; she had inherited them with her name. Her ancestor, the handsome Marquis de Faille, who was afterward beheaded in the midst of a shrieking crowd, had ridden over a child who barred his way. She in her turn had to plunge a sharp sword in the heart of this girl whose only fault was that she had loved her eon. She would not shrink from the task, but all the same she was a woman, and her hand unskilled in mur- der. She wished that her son had never used those words. She could see herself so plainly sword in hand. She looked at the beautiful white neck, and shuddered as she thought how she must plunge the sword in. " I am afraid," said Lima, " that you will be tired, madame. Will you not sit down ? " The lovely, weary face, and the gentle voice, smote her. Madame had never dreamed that her task would be so difficult. She stood just before Madame la Comtesse, her hands clasped, her blue eyes full of wistful questions. u Madame de Soldana," she said, " will you tell me pomething of Leon? It is so long since I have seen him ; he went away saying that he should only be absent for a few days, and it is almost a year since he left me. I have nearly died of pain and desolation ; I long to see him ; my heart aches for him ; my eyes are weary with watching for him ; my whole soul is waiting for him. Madame, where is he? It was not pleasant ; not all the courage, the instinct of the De Failles, could make it so. She looked steadily at the girl's face for a few seconds as though she would see how much it was possible for her to bear ; with what abruptness she could tell the truth; how much she must spare her, how much she could inflict upon her without injury. And as she looked into the face her heart softened still more. It was so THE BELLE OF LTNK. 231 lovely, yet so delicate and fragile ; she was surprised, too, at its dainty refinement. This girl before her was quite as patrician in appearance as Princess Helene. If possi- ble, she was more so, owing to the delicacy of her color- ing, and the sheen of her golden hair. Madame had expected in a miller's daughter something of the half- vulgar, half-buxom type. This slender girl, with her dainty, sweet loveliness, was not at all what she expected to see. Still, she must slay and spare not, for the honor of the Sol dan as was at stake. " Will you tell me, madame, something about Leon ? Is he well ? Is he happy ? Sometimes, for nights to- gether, I have not slept, and for days together I have not rested. I am thinking always of him." Now was the time to raise her hand and strike now to plunge the sharp sword through the white gentle breast into the loving heart now to strike with true aim and deadly intent. Yet she paused. The lovely blue eyes were so full of pleading, the fair face so wistful, the voice so sweet that repeated " Tell me something of Leon, madame, if it only be that he is well and happy." " Strike and spare not slay, not save ! " were the words that rose to madame's mind, and then, bold enough she plunged the sharp sword in the white breast up to the hilt. " It is of Leon, my son, that I have come to speak to you," said madame. " I am sorry to be what you will think the bearer of evil news to you ; but duty must be done, be it disagreeable as it may." She saw the life die, as it were, from the fair, sad face. " I have to tell you," continued madame, " that your marriage with my son is illegal and invalid, a perfectly worthless ceremony ; and that here in England, owing to the laxity of the law, you may call yourself his wife, yet in France, and by the law of France, you are not his wife at all." The sword was driven in up to the hilt, and she watch- ed the girl's face narrowly, to see if she would die under the shock of her words. 232 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER XLVI. " I DO not understand," said Lima, slowly. " I am Leon's wife. We were married at the church at Hasling- dene, and he, Leon, said that every formality had been complied with. I I remember all the trouble he took over it, how particular he was about the number of days' notice, and living in the right parish. Oh, madame, you you mistake ; our marriage is legal enough." " According to English law," said madame, calmly, " but not in France. I can explain it to you in few words. In France the marriage-law favors the authority of parents, prevents ill-assorted marriages, for it says that no minor can contract a marriage without the formal con- sent and sanction of parents or guardians, and that if he does contract such a marriage, it is null and void, and can be set aside at the suit of parents or guardians. That is what my son has done," continued madame, holding the sword with firm clasp. " He is under age ; he has married without my consent or sanction. His marriage is, consequently, null and void, against the law, and must be put aside." The face of the girl who listened to these terrible words had grown perfectly white, and a great, nameless dread came into her blue eyes ; not that she feared. She knew that she was married, and this strange, proud, foreign lady knew nothing of the marriage-la w other woman in my place. 274 THE BELLE OF LYNN. You shall take no other woman in your arms and call her wife. You shall kiss no other woman's face and say thai you love her. I, Lima, your true and lawful wife, swear that this shall never be done." " Oh, Lima ! " he sighed, " if I could but make yam understand. " " I know enough," she cried, haughtily. " I am poor and lowly born. I belong to a class which, according to your mother's ideas, can be trampled under-foot, a class which has no rights, no claims, no feeling. What will my blighted life and broken heart matter to any of you ? Who will care that I spend the rest of it under the black- est shadow of shame, betrayed and deserted who cares ? But it shall not be. I appeal to Heaven against it. I will defend, and shield, and protect myself, since there is no one to do it for me." She had never looked so beautiful as she did in this hour of passionate defiance and pain. He could not answer her, he had no words to say. " You think," she continued, " that because I am of lowly birth, ' only a miller's daughter,' that I can be trampled on, hidden, thrust out of the way, while you marry the most beautiful girl in France. Oh! God of Justice, I cry to you ! I cry to you ! And this is what your love has brought me," she cried. " For you I left home, mother and father; you repay me by deserting me. My father's words have come true : the curse of the disobedient has followed me, and will cling to me wherever I go." She wrung her hands with a gesture of passionate despair. " I will appeal to the whole wide world against you," she continued. " Your mother thinks and you think that because I am of lowly birth I am easily crushed, easily hidden out of sight, that for paltry money I shall consent to forego my claim. I will not, I will fight for it until I die, and the whole world shall hear of it. It shall be no secret bought and paid for. If you persist in it you shall know what you are doing. So shall she, the partner of your crime for it is a crime. Since I have been here in Paris, I know her name Helene de Saisoa, I kuow THE BELLE OF LYNN. 275 even your name for her Princess Helene. I shall go to her ; I shall tell her the whole of my love-story ; I shall tell her of your love, your wooing, and of our marriage. Then when she knows that I ana your lawful wife when she knows that I have had the best love of your heart and you of mine, she will refuse you and send you back to me. If she be a true woman worthy of love she ^ill spurn you. I shall go to her and tell her all." " Lima, be reasonable," he cried out, in an agony of fear. " I have been reasonable, patient, submissive, and supine long enough. I will be so no longer ; I will fight it out. I have no money, few friends ; but I have a will. If I have to appeal to the emperor himself, it shall be done." The very thought almost stopped the beating of his heart. That would be the most complete, black, bitter thing that could befall him. " What can I say to you ? " he cried. " There is so much truth and reason in what you say you have so much right on your side. I am so heartily ashamed of it all, and yet I could not go back to poverty and exile." " Then you must be prepared to take the conse- quences," she said, and without another word she left him. She did not wait to say good-by ; she had borne as much as she could bear. She would have gone mad or died if she had remained there. The probability is that she did go mad then and there, that she lost the balance of brain and reason never to regain it. She rushed from his presence, her eyes could look no longer on the handsome face of the man whom she loved with all her heart, but who was going to sacri- fice her. She went away so quickly that he had no time to see in what direction she fled. She was gone even before he had time to recover himself. If he had known, he would have followed her but he did not know. J76 THE BELLE OF LYNN. CHAPTER LV. HELENE sat with a smile on her face, going over in thought every word her lover had said to her, every caress he had given her, happier than words can tell, happier than she nad ever dreamed of being. She never even gave a thought to the fact that her happiness was purchased by the misery of another. At the time of a great famine in France, a princess expressed her wonder that people should starve, and when told that they could not buy bread, she said, " Why can they not live on buns ? " Princess Helene had ideas just as vague about people of the class beneath her. She never thought of them as loving, suffering, feeling keenly, as sensitive and full of fine instincts ; they were simply the lower classes, and that one of this class would ever dare to rise up and claim that to which she also laid claim was an idea that never, ever so faintly, occurred to her. She had thought very little of this young English person. She supposed that all young men had some awkward contretemps in life. It need not concern her. She did not even take the trouble to think of it She had gone back to madame's boudoir, and stood with a smile on her face looking at the superb costume that still lay there, the cloth of silver, the rich jewels and the shining dagger. She was well pleased with them all and he admired them, that was the crowning beauty. "What a pleasant evening lay before her he would be there. There was only one in the world for her. " How little I ever thought I should learn to love him so," she said to herself. " I have actually no pride where he is concerned." There was a rap at the door, and Susette, Princess Helene's favorite maid, came in. " Mademoiselle," she said, softly, " a lady wishes to see you." " A lady ? What a vague expression, Susette. What lady?" THE BELLE OF LYNN. 277 " I do not know, mademoiselle. She has no card, and she declined to give any name, but she bade me pray you, mademoiselle, most earnestly to see her. She says that her business is of most supreme importance." u Is she young or old, Susette?" asked Princess " Young, mademoiselle, and beautiful as a picture." " Bring her here, I will see her here, " said Princesc Helene, slowly. She was not much interested, and cared but little who it was. The next minute her eyes fell on a face which startled her, it was so rarely beautiful, yet it was colorless, worn, and haggard with pain. Two blue eyes, more lovely than she had ever seen, were looking into her own. A lovely, delicate, fragile girl stood before her, whose hair seemed to have caught the gold of the sunlight, a girl who looked upon her with an expression on her face such as Princess Helene had never seen before. The scene was dramatic enough ; the magnificent room with its superb adornments, its wealth of luxury ; the daylight was fading, and soft shadows lay in the cor- ners ; the air was heavy with perfume, and the rich blooms seemed to catch the dying light. The two beauti- ful girls stood facing each other : Princess Helene the ideal of magnificent beauty, Lima the picture of fair love- liness; Princess Helene, superb in her stately manner and exquisite dress Lima, fair, fragile, with her whole soul shining in her face. For some few seconds they stood in silence looking at each other: Princess Helena startled at the stranger's beauty without dreaming win. ehe was. Then, with the haughty manner natural to her, she said : " You wished to see me, I believe ? " " You are Mademoiselle de Saison," said Lima. " I wish to see you to talk to you." " Will you take a chair if your visit is likely to be a long one ? " said Princess Helene, and Lima eat down. Princess Helene flung herself haughtily into the 278 THE BELLE OF LYNN. nearest chair. Who was this beautiful girl and what did she want? It was not so easy, now that she was face to face with this magnificent woman, to begin ; but Lima must tell what she came to tell. " Mademoiselle," said she, " I am an English girl ; my name was Lima Derwent perhaps you may have heard it?" " No," said the princess, proudly. " My name now," she continued, " is Lima de Soldana. I was married to Leon Comte de Soldana at the church at Haslingdene, in England a marriage valid and legal according to the English law." For one minute Princess Helene looked up with a dangerous flash in her eyes. She sprang from her seat, with a gesture of profound contempt, then she looked fixedly at the face before her. So this was the young English person whom she had thought of so little impor- tance the lovely fragile girl whose eyes were bright as etars, and whose mouth was sweeter than the sweetest rose. A hot flush of jealousy swept over her. She had not realized that this person might be young and most lovely. Her jealous eyes rested angrily on the fair face nd the golden hair. If that hot, jealous glance could have slain, Lima would have died. Then, with negligent grace and hauteur, she resumed her place, and all trace of emotion died. She spoke with a sarcastic smile. " If it were not," she said, '* that the English are such extraordinary people, I might ask why you have come here ? " " I come here because I have been told that Count de Soldana has some thought of marrying you, mademoiselle, that his mother and his friends wish it and that he him- self desires it. Mademoiselle I am here to say that you cannot marry him, for he is my husband, and I claim him for my own." " I ftiink it a most intrusive and impertinent thing for you to have come here," says Princess Helene. " I have nothing to do with it, and I must beg that the interview end now." " But, mademoiselle, it cannot end ; you must listen. "THE BELLE OP LTOTT. 279 I think rather that it is you who should be ashamed in consenting to marry a man who already has a wife living who loves him." Princess Helene smiled contemptuously.' " You are not his wife," she says. " I have heard of your story. The marriage was not legal, not binding. Such a thing has happened to girls of your class before, and probably will again. I have nothing to do with it. It does not concern me." " Mademoiselle," cried Lima, her fair face flushed with earnestness, " this marriage shall never take place. Leon de Soldana can never be your husband, because he is mine. He wooed me, and married me ; he loved me. Ah, if you knew how he loved me, you would never marry him. I had all his heart, I carried it in the hollow of my hand. He could never care one half so much for any human being as he did for me never again." " He has not shown any great love," said Princess Helene, sneeringly. " He has found out that his so- called marriage was a mistake, and he is doing his best to remedy it. It would not be fair, if a man were to suffer for a folly of that kind all his life." " He has been badly influenced," said Lima. " Of his own free will no such cowardly or ungenerous idea would have come to him." " I think," said Princess Helene, " that it is you who are ungtnerous. You would have him give up this fair land of France, all the honors that have been given to him, all his brilliant future, and all his bright hopes, to go and live in a cottage in England with you. It is yon who are ungenerous. It would be cruel so to mar his life, to ruin him, to destroy him ! Cruel ! You are a selfish and ungenerous woman to think of it. I shall bring him wealth, fortune, honor every possible advan- tage that marriage can bring a man. You would ruin him!" " He is mine, and I claim him. I love him, and he loves me ! " She could have uttered no words that would have en- raged the princess more. The bitter jealousy that had lain latent in her heart rose to fury ; Lima's delicate love- 280 THE BELLE OP LTNW. liness angered her, her clear, sweet voice, her grace of manner, angered her, also. Could it be possible that Count de Soldana had really loved this girl had kissed her and caressed her even as he had done herself? " " I should like to kill her ! " thought Princess Helene. With lima, too, jealousy had been growing ; the mag- nificent beauty of Mile, de Saison and the luxury that surrounded her produced their effect. " I have come to say that this most wicked and un> natural marriage shall never take place that I claim mj husband for my own in the face of Heaven and earth, and no other woman shall take my place ! " Princess Helene laughed, a sneering laugh which seemed to set the girl's heart on fire. " I do not think," she replied, " that your opinion will be asked on the matter. I admit it is rather hard on you, but in affairs of tins kind I believe it is always the weak- est who are crushed. There are privileges of class you enjoy none! If you are at all sensible, you will yield to any suggestions Madame de Soldana may make, and go back to England." " Mademoiselle," cried Lima, " do you believe that my marriage was valid ? " " Do I believe it ? Most certainly not. You must be mad to ask such a question ! " *' Do you believe that the marriage sacred as a sacra- ment in England, is less sacred here ? " " It is against the law," said Princess Helene. " How can anything be sacred that is against the law ? The law is the preserver of nations. And now," she continued ; " I have heard enough ; there need be no more said. I think your coming to see me is altogether bad taste, and I cannot help telling you so." " It is no question of taste," said Lima. " It is a ques- tion of right and wrong it is a question that you cannot settle, mademoiselle, by a few contemptuous words. It is a question that will look you in the face and brand your soul with tire at the Judgment Day." Princess Helene laughed, a sneering laugh which brought a hot flush into Lima's face. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 28i " I shall be quite content to wait until then, and am not afraid of the consequences." Hot anger filled Lima's heart hot, bitter rage, so great, so terrible, that her whole body trembled with it ; and so they stood for some minutes looking death or Murder at each other. CHAPTER LVI. " MADEMOISELLE," said Lima, " you call yourself ' no- ble ' you boast that you are descended from a long line of nobles, therefore you ought to have all noble virtues, you ought to be above all mean and ignoble ideas, above all unjust and wicked actions. Would you steal from me would you take my money ? " And the face of Princess Helene was a study as she heard these words. Loftiest scorn, bitter anger, hot in- dignation, struggled for mastery. " You will not deign to answer me," said Lima, " I will answer for you. You would rather burn oil those proud hands of yours than that they should steal and eteal from me. And yet you are stealing from me that which I value far above life itself my husband." " He is not yours," said Princess Helene. " He is mine," said Lima, " and no one else shall take him from me. You shall not, mademoiselle; with all your beauty, all your high birth, all your pride and grandeur, you shall not have him. If I were a great lady as you are, I would scorn to rob another girl of her husband. If you do steal him, he will never love you as he loved me. I had all the first warm love of his neart ; there will not be much left for you, great lady as you are. Should you succeed, even in the very hour of your success, you will be second to me; but you will not succeed. Heaven is just ! You shall not take him from me." She paused suddenly ; the sound of her own voice frightened her it seemed to come from some far dis- tance and her brain whirled ; nothing seemed clear to ber. 282 THE BELLE OF LTHN. "Am I going mad?" she thought to herself. "Has my misery driven me mad ? " Then to her horror she found that she could not hear what Princess Helene was saying; she could see the mocking smile on the proud face, the mocking lines round the beautiful mouth, but she could not liear a sound. " Oh Heaven ! " she cried ; " I must be going mad ; I cannot bear it." There was a smile on the mocking face opposite to her, but she could not distinguish the words mat came from Princess Helene's lips. Suddenly a blood-red mist swam before her eyes, and through it she only saw the mocking beauty of that proud face ; then she must have gone mad, for suddenly it seemed to her that she saw her husband by Princess Helene's side, standing there tall, erect, handsome, his face bent over the beautiful one of her rival. It was but a mad, vivid fancy to her it was most horribly real. They were laughing at her ! Oh, Heaven, was there no justice, no mercy ? Laughing at her, and he, Leon, kissed that proud face ; then both turned to her with a mocking smile. " He is mine," said Princess Helene ; " all mine, you see." Through the blood-red mist she saw the gleam of the silver dagger with the sharp, keen blade. " He is all mine," mocked Princess Helene. " You see he loves me, he kisses me, he will never look at you again ; it is you who are second, not I." The terrible mist deepened, there was a sound in her ears as of falling waters, then came to her overstrained brain just one glimpse of cool, clear reason, and she saw there was no Leon there only Princess Helene, look- isg at her with half-frightened eyes. " You are mad," she said, sternly. " Mad ! " Ah ! that was the word ; the very sound of it threw her off her balance ; it was the laugh of a mad woman that rang through the room. The fair distorted face was terrible to see. THE BELLE OF LYNN. 283 " You must be taken away and locked up," said Princess Helene. As she spoke, she moved as though she would touch the bell-rope, then complete and perfect madness took possession of the hapless girl. She seemed to look down a long vista of years, during which she would be shut away from the world, while Leon and Princess Helene were happy together. " You shall not touch that rope," she cried, the fire of madness in her eyes " you shall not touch it 1 " " I shall ring, and have you taken away from here," said Princess Helene. She moved again. There was a rush, a struggle, a cry, only Heaven knew how it had happened. She, who in her whole life had never given pain ; she who had been tender even to dead flowers and dying leaves, who would not crush the daisies in the grass ; she whose heart had ever been filled with love and tenderness for all things created ; she, driven mad by mockery, by cruel words, by outraged love, by physical fatigue, by long fasting and weary travelling ; she, whose hand had never been raised but in love and kindness, suddenly seized that gleaming dagger, canght the upraised arm of Princess Helene jnst as she was on the point of touching the bell and plunged the blade in her breast. It was but the work of a moment, and the act of one for the time being quite mad. Then there was a cry and a fall. As suddenly as her senses had left her they came back, and she found her- self bending over the fallen body of Princess Helene, with the stains of blood on her hands. The very sight of it and the fright of it recalled her scattered senses, and she knew, she realized what she had done, and the wonder was that she did not then and there fall dead. It was murder cruel, terrible murder ; the word seemed written in great letters of flame before her eyes ; it was hissed by a hundred voices in her ears murder, cruel, horrible murder. She gave one look at the pros- tate body of her rival, at the white set face and the 284 THE BELLE OF LYNH. wound whence flowed that terrible stream, the stain of which was on her own hands ; then she turned and fled. She had committed murder. Rapidly as lightning flashes she made up her mind what to do. She did not look again at the terrible sight that lay on the ground : she hastily rubbed the stains from her hands and quitted the room. "Murder! murder!" was the sound that followed her, as she went rapidly down the marble staircase and opened the great hall door. She met no one. She left the house quite unobserved, but it seemed to her the very moment she reached the street every one took up the cry of " murder ! " It was not all fancy, people did stop to look at her ; that wild, white, beautiful face attracted much attention. She looked neither to the right nor to the left ; her eyes were fixed and looked straight before her; she walked rapidly without pausing until she reached the great railway station. There she stood for a few minutes quite bewildered ; in the shrieks from the engines, in the cries of the porters, from every sound that reached her ears came that dread word, " murder." She was in time for the night mail to London ; she would reach London on the noon of the morrow ; for there she would take the train to Lynn. She was flying home with a distinct and settled purpose in her mind which never wavered from the moment in which she realized what she had done. She had been many long hours now without food, and when the train stopped for a few minutes at Amiens, a lady seated in the same carriage with her looked up at her and begged her to take some wine. "You look very ill and faint," said the lady. "Let me persuade you to take some wine." The eyes raised to hers were full of unutterable woe ; the voice which answered hers was hardly human. * c I thank you," said Lima, " but it would be useless quite useless." So fixed was the terrible purpose in her mind, she might droop and tremble, but food and drink would THE BELLE OP LYNN. 285 never pass her lips more she who had that awful stain on her hands ! The winds blew fiercely, and the scream of the whistl* rarely ceased. It seemed to her that others must hear it. It stormed the windows ; it beat angrily against the doors : it seemed to denounce her fiercely, with that one cry, " Murder ! " Surely, every one must hear it, and mnst know that she had done it. There were times when fatigue was too great for her, and she slept a troubled and terrible sleep, far more terrible than her waking moments, for in her sleep she was looking always at the body she had left lying on the ground, with the crimson wound on the white breast. She would wake up with a stifled cry of " Murder ! " There was no rest, no refuge from the world. As fast as steam and wind could take her, hardly conscious, yet just able to control her actions, she went on to her doom. Once more she was on the sea, the waves running high; they seemed to hiss at her; and as they rolled along, with one grand voice they thundered the word " murder." The waters rushed through the great wheels, and the wind swept over the deck ; all sound was alike on the vessel and it formed the hateful word. Once more she was on English ground, once more she was on road ta Lynn. There were times when earth and sky seemed to meet, when her head fell on her breast, and for some minutes she was quite unconscious of all around her ; she awoke always with the word " murder " hissing in her ears. She had left the railway station now, and it is almost noon of the following day. She does not take the road to the little cottage, which she will never see more, but to the banks of Allan "Water. She had one settled, dreadful purpose in her mind, from which she had never swerved. Useless for her to take food or wine, to look to the right or to the left, to linger over any of the haunts ; useless, for she was going to die. She did not dare to live ; even now they would be in hot pursuit of her. She could both hear and see 286 THE BELLE OF LYNN. them in her mad fancy; strong men with handcuffs in pursuit of her, each crying " murder! murder 1 " Faster and faster she flew down the high-road, crossed the fields and there before her, shining and bright, lay the broad, beautiful sheet of Allan Water, calm and dimpling in the sunlight ; there, on the other side, was the old mill, with the quaint red roof and wealth of trees. She did not stop to look at it when the broad, shining waters broke on her sight. She clasped her hands and cried " At last at last ! " but she did not pause or go more slowly. They might be behind her now. They might cry " Murder " with myriad voices. She was safe. She would fling herself on the broad bosom of Allan "Water the only refuge left to her on earth. Smiling and dimpling in the wintry sunshine, it was like an old friend. It was life rather than death, it was going horn*, she did not wait even to look round her ; er heart was on fire with impatience for rest. She sprang into the water as one loved springs to the embrace of the beloved one. It closed round her as though it knew and loved her, and would keep her for evermore. Once in the wintry sunlight a white arm and hand struck the water as though to beat it away ; then all was calm and still, the eddies died away, and there was no movement on the breast of Allan "Water. Later on that afternoon the miller, who had gone in search of the boat, cried out to his wife : " Helen, what is that shining in the water there ? It looks like gold." And he walked round the bank to see- THE BELLE OF LYKJT. CHAPTER LVIL MADAME LA COMTESSE had travelled as quickly as it was possible to go ; she had not lost or wasted one mr * ute. Her one great fear was that some fatal mischief would be done before she reached Paris the presenti- ment was strong upon her. She reached the railway station in the afternoon, and drove quickly home. She asked at once for her son ; she would not eat, drink, or rest until she had seen him. " Had an English lady been there ? " she asked, and the answer was : " Yes ; an English lady had called on Monsieur le Comte." So far all was safe. She felt sure, from the placid faces around her, there had been no exposure, no scandal. " Where is Monsieur le Comte ? " she asked of his valet, who replied, with a low bow, that he had gone to the Hotel de Saison. " I will drive there at once," said Madame la Oom- tesse ; and she entered the carriage. " Drive quickly," she said to the coachman, and for a time he obeyed ; but as they drew nearer he found it almost impossible to drive at all. The broad streets were lined with people, and Madame, to her horror, saw that before the door of Princess Helene's house there was assembled a vast crowd. " What is it ? " she cried, looking out of the carriage window. Twenty heads were turned toward her, twenty voices answered at once, " Murder ! murder ! " And a woman, whose face was livid with excitement, cried out to her : " There has been murder ! " " Who is murdered ? " asked madame, her lips grow- ing stiff and white. " I do not know her name, but they say she is the most beautiful girl and thejwealthiest heiress in Frauoe." 988 THE BELLE OP LTNlf. " Who has murdered her ? " asked madame. I know not. Some one they say, who was jealous of her: 1 " Great Heaven, the deed is done ! " cried madame. She hastened from her carriage. The crowd made way at sight of that proud woman, with her white, haggard face. She entered the house, and the first person she saw was her son. " Leon," she cried. " what is it ? What has happen- ed?" " Murder, mother ! " he answered. She bent her head and asked another question. He answered it with trembling, colorless lips. Never had there been greater consternation, never more grief or dismay than when Susette, going with some message to her mistress, found her lying on the ground with that terrible crimson wound on her breast. Her cries aroused the whole household, and there en- sued a terrible confusion. Monsieur le Comte entered in the midst of it; his horror and dismay were terrible to behold. His first question was, who had done it, and what was the motive ? The servants could give him no informa- tion. It was true that a lady had been with her a very fair and gentle lady; how long she had remained no one knew, nor had any one seen her go. His heart and con- science told him who it was and what she had done ; his own heart told him also who had driven her to do it. Perhaps the most terrible moment of his life was the one in which he told the frightened servants that visit was no clew ; that the crime had evidently been commited by a man, and that the motive was evidently robbery ; that the reason why the robbery had not been completed must be that the murderer had been disturbed and had fled. Still, it seemed so incredible that such a crime could have been committed with a house full of servants. Madame Vesey was absent for the day. True, madame'e boudoir was so far away from the servants' office that even a scream would not have been heard. There was terrible excitement ; the young count wa at first ijuite overwhelmed with horror and dismay; it THE BELLE OF LYNN. 289 was at that moment that madame returned, and a very different order of things was brought about ; the shriek- ing, terrified servants were sent each to their right pla^ the chief of the police was summoned; above all, two or three of the most clever physicians in Paris were sent for, for Madame la Cmtesse de Soldana, looking on the white face of Princess Helene, declared that she was not dead ; they came round her in wonder, but madame calmly repeated the words. " I am quite sure that she is not dead," and the doc- tors who came said the same thing " she was not dead." Half an hour afterward Princess Helene had opened her eyes, and had spoken. Madame de Vesey had re- turned by that time, horrified to find her house in the hands of the doctors and the police ; there was a long consultation, and then the doctors gave it as their opin- ion that with the greatest care it was within the bounds of human possibility that she might recover. The wound was deep and painful, but not mortal they hoped. No need now for the services of the police, madame would be able to obtain all needful information from mademoi- selle when she was able to give it. The day came when Princess Helene, looking very white and ill, was able to be questioned. Madame Yesey and Madame la Com- tesse went to her and asked her for the clew to this cruel outrage, but she would give none. She had made up ner mind to that during the first hours of her illness. " I had driven the girl mad," she said to herself. " I had taken from her all that she valued most in the world. I might have been kinder, but, at least, I will not betray her ; no one living shall ever know the truth from me." And she clung to that resolve with an almost savagt fidelity, when the two ladies told her that the time had now come in which she must exert herself and tell them what had happened ; but to their intense surprise, Prin- eess Helene had nothing to say. " It was an accident," was all she had to say in answer to their inquiries " a perfect accident." " Nonsense, my dear," said Madame de Vesey, " an accident never drove that akarp dagger so near your heart" 290 .*' THE BELLE OF LTKK. " I fell on it," said Princess Helene, unblushingly ; and then Madame de Vesey knew that all further questions were needless, for her niece would never tell one word of what had happened. Madame la Comtesse quite understood. If Princess Helene had told the true story of that crime, there would have been great exposure, great scandal ; the papers would have got hold of the story, and it would have epread all over France and England too. A thousand times better hush it up ! Princess Helene, she thought, ehowed not only magnanimity, but good sense. They poke but once on the matter, when Princess Helene her- self had said : " Madame la Comtesse, have you taken my affair quite out of the hands of the police ? " " I have not done so yet," replied Madame la Com- tesse. " Then, will you see to it at once, madame ? " asked Princess Helene. " When they are made to understand that it is an accident they will see that they have noth- ing to do with it ; they will understand. And, madame, with your permission, we will never mention the subject again." And they never did. The police perfectly understood. A paragraph went the round of the papers, saying that a great and most stupid mistake had been made, that there had been no murder, no assassination, not even an assault, nothing but an accident which happened while Mademoiselle de Saison was preparing for a masquerade ball, and from which she was rapidly recovering. They did not tell Princess Helene at first what had happened in England. It was the principal of the col- lege who wrote to the young count and told him what had happened. When he knew it and realized it, he suf- fered as few men can suffer ; he was never the same man again ; he lost his lightness of heart, his gay spirits, the music died from his smiles and his laughter. No one could have recognized in the stern, haughty man of the after-years the once cheery and graceful young count. He married Princess Helene, but they were never quite THE BELLE OF LYNN. 291 happy, a dark shadow lay ever between them. Lima's name was never mentioned, no allusion was ever made to her, but her memory stood ever between husband and wife. Monsieur Le Comte de Soldana became one of the leading statesmen in France ; his name is a power in that land for which he sacrificed Lima, but he is not a happy man, no one ever sees him smile. I think there are times when he would give up all he has in the world rank, title, wealth, fortune, honors and fame to be sitting once more in the little cottage garden with Lima's arms round his neck. He is haunted, as men who have done wrong, who have been moral cowards, always are haunted by the memory of a loving heart which he broke; of a fair, sweet face from which he had robbed the bloom and the beauty; of blue eyes, the light of which had been quenched with tears ; of a fair young life sacrificed for him. He is haunted ; when he falls asleep it is Lima who 3ays loving words to him, who stretches out her white arms to him, calls him her love and her husband, kisses his face with a tenderness beyond words. It is Lima who stands by his side every night and sings to him of the banks of Allan Water, always the last verses : " For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he ; On the banks of Allan Water None so sad as she. " On the banks of Allan Water, When the winter snow fell fast, Still was seen the miller's daughter, Chilling blew the blast. ** But the miller's lovely daughter Both from cold and care was free; On the banks of Allan Water, There a corpse lay she." She sings it over and over again to him, and in his dreams he begs her for pity's sake not to look at him with those dead eyes, not to drag him, with those tender, out- stretched arms down iuto the depths of Allan Water. Then he wakes, and these memories sweep over him. 292 THE BELLE OF LYNN. He ia not a happy man, for the sweetest smile on his wife's face cannot drive these sad thoughts away. The emperor sent him, for some service rendered, the grand cross of the Legion of Honor, and he thought that the proudest day of his life was when he received it ; bnt that same evening, walking in the beautiful glades of Belle d'Or, he heard the wind sighing amongst the green leaves of the lime-trees, and he turned sick and faint to heart ; there was no happiness in his pride. #***#** When father and mother stood by the simple green grave in the churchyard at Lynn, there was but one question in life which had any interest left for them, and it was, What name should be engraved on the white marble cross ? " Not that French name," said the miller, " it is ac- cursed ; and not mine, for she shadowed it." And the words standing there are simply these: " THE BELLE OF A 000128146 8