YOLANDE. WILLIAM BLACK. AUTHOR OF "A PRINCESS OF THULE/' "STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON, "A DAUGHTER OF HETH," ETC. NEW YORK : JOHN W. LOYELL COMPANY, 14 AND 16 VESEY STREET. TOO TOL ANDE. CHAPTER I. BELEASED FROM CHATEAU COLD FLOORS. LATE one evening in April, in the private sitting-room on the first floor of a hotel in Albemarle Street, a member of the British House of Commons was lying back in an easy- chair, having just begun to read, in an afternoon journal, an article about himself. He was a man approaching fifty, with what the Scotch call " a salt-water face " ; that is to say a face tanned and reddened with wind and weather, sharp of feature, and with hair become prematurely quite silver white. At a first glance he seemed to have the air of an imperative, eager, aggressive person ; but that impression was modified when by any accident you met his eyes, which were nervous, shrinking, and uncertain. Walking in the street, he rarely saw any one ; perhaps he was too pre- occupied with public affairs ; perhaps he was sensitively afraid of not being able to recognize half-remembered faces. When sitting alone, slight noises made him start. This was what the man with the thin red face and the silver white hair was reading : " By his amendment of last night, which, as every one anticipated, was defeated by an overwhelming majority, the member for Slagpool has once more called attention to thy unique position which he occupies in contemporary politics. Consistent only in his hopeless inconsistency, and only to be reckoned on for the wholly unexpected, one wonders for o YQ.LANDR. what particular purpose the electors of Slagpool ever thought liuir Mr. Wintorbourne to Parliament, unless, indeed, kq MM-P ,ii;it their town should be sufficiently often heard of in the council* om was opened, and the frame- ':tme the framework of a living picture, rhtened up with pleasure, fie doorway was that of a young ,'ularly tall and strikingly fair, who stood 'id, half laughing. idea?" i.-d, peevishly. "Yolande, instead of better. Why 'his what you meant V' " YOLANDE. 3 "Is this what you meant?" she said, promptly, and with a slight foreign accent. His eyes could not dwell on her for two seconds together and be vexed. "Come to the mirror, child, and put on your hat, and let me see the whole thing properly." She did as she was bid, stepping over to the fireplace, and standing before the old-fashioned mirror as she adjus- ted the wide-brimmed Rubens hat over the ruddy gold of her hair. For this was an experiment in costume, and it had some suggestion of novelty. The plain gown was of a uniform cream white, of some rough towel-like substance that seemed to cling naturally to the tall and graceful figure ; and it was touched here and there with black velvet, and the tight sleeves had black velvet cuffs ; while the white Rubens hat had also a band of black velvet round the bold sweep of the brim. For the rest, she wore no ornaments but a thick silver necklace round her throat, and a plain silver belt round her waist, the belt being a broad zone of solid metal, untouched by any graver. But any one who had seen this young English girl standing there, her arms uplifted, her hands busy with her hat, would not have wasted much attention on the details of her costume. Her face was interesting, even at an age when gentleness and sweetness are about the only charac- teristics that one expects to meet with. And although no mere catalogue of her features the calm clear brow ; the wide-apart gray-blue eyes; the aquiline nose; the unusu- ally short upper lip and beautiful rounded chin ; her soft and wavy hair glistening in its ruddy gold ; and her com- plexion, that was in reality excessively fair, only that an abundance of freckles, as well as the natural rose-color of youth in her cheeks, spoke of her not being much afraid of the sun and of the country air although no mere enumeration of these things is at all likely to explain the unnamable grace that attracted people to her, yet there was at least one expression of her face that could be accounted for. That unusually short upper lip, that has been noted above, gave aslight pensive droop to the mouth whenever her features were in repose; so that when she suddenly looked up with her wide wondering, timid, and yet trustful eyes, there was something pathetic and wistful there. It was an expression absolutely without intention ; it was inexplicable, and also winning ; it seemed to convey a sort 4 YOLANDE. f involuntary unconscious appeal for gentleness and friend- ship, but. beyond that it. had no significance whatsoever. It had nothing to do with any sorrow, suffered or foreshadowed. So far the girls existence had been passed among the roses and lilies of life ; the only serious grievance she had ever known was the winter coldness of the floors in the so-called ui in Brittany where she had been educated. And -he was emancipated from the discipline of the Chateau Floors, as she had named the place ; and the world was fair around her ; and every day was a day of gladness r from the first "Good-morning" over the breakfast table to the very last of all the last and lingering "Good- nights " that had to be said before she would let her father >\vn to put in an appearance at the House. This must be admitted about Yolande Winterbourne, however, that she had two very distinct manners. With her friends and intimates she was playful, careless, and not without a touch of humorous wilfulness ; but with stran- and especially with strangers abroad, she could assume in the most astonishing fashion the extreme coldness and <-sy of an English miss. Remember, she was tall, fair, English-looking; that, when all the pretty, timid trust- 1 merriment were out of them, her eyes were wide apart and clear and contemplative ; and further, that the ; the Chateau Cold Fku*s had instructed her .".'w she should behave when she went travelling with a her, which happened pretty often. At the table , witli her father present, she was as light-hearted, as nt as any one could wish. In the music- r dinner, or on the deck of a steamer, or anywhere, i .it her by accident absent, she was the English ut :md out, and no aside conversations were possible. 1, so reserved, so English," thought many an viblt- yonnir foreigner who had been charmed with i.-ibli*, vivacious face as it had regarded him across the white table cover and the flowers. Yolande's aim, even austere on occasion. Bant? 11 she repeated, turning to him I I--r face was bright enough now. : lie, nither reluctantly. " I I thought But you see, Yolande, -you see it is y but for London to drive in the Park in 't it be a little conspicuous ? " YOLANDE. 5 Her eyes were filled with astonishment ; his rather wan- dered away nervously to the table. "But, papa, I don't understand you! Everywhere else you are always wishing me to wear the brightest and lightest of colors. I may wear what I please and that is only to please you, that is what I care about only any- where else : if we are going for a walk along the Lung' Arno, or if we go for a drive in the Prater, yes, and at Oat- land Park, too, I can not please you with enough bright colors ; but here in London the once or twice of my visits " "Do speak English, Yolande," said he, sharlply 11 Don t hurry so." "The once or twice I am in London, oh, no ! Every- thing is too conspicuous ! Is it the smoke, papa. And thia time I was so anxious to please you ! all your own ideas ; not mine at all. But what do I care ? " She tossed the Rubens hat on to the couch that was near, " Come ! What is there about a dress ? It will do for some other place, not so dark and smoky as London. Come sit down papa you do not wish to go away to the House yet ! You have not finished about Godfrey of Bouillon." ' I am not going to read any more Gibbon to you to- night, Yolande," said he ; but he sat down, all the same in the easy-chair, and she placed herself on the hearthrug be- fore him, so that the soft ruddy gold of her hair touched his knees. It was a pretty head to stroke. " Oh, do you think I am so anxious about Gibbon, then ? " she said, lightly, as she settled herself into a comfortable position. " No. Not at all. I do not want any more Gib- bon. I want you. And you said this morning there would be nothing but stupidity in the House to-night." " Well, now, Miss Inveigler, just listen to this," said he, laying hold of her by both her small ears. " Don't you think it prudent of me to show up as often as I can in the House especially when there is a chance for a division so that my good friends in Slagpool mayn't begin to grumble about my being away so frequently? And why am I away? Why do I neglect my duties Why do I let* the British Empire glide on to its doom? Why, but that I may take a wretched, schoolgirl a wretched, small-brained impertinent, prattling schoolgirl for her holidays, and show her things she can't understand and plough through 'museums and picture- galleries to filla mind that is no better than a sieve? Just 6 YOLANDE. think of it. The British Empire going headlong to the mis- all for the sake of an empty-headed schoolgirl ! " " Do you know, \ apa, I am very glad to hear that," she said, quietly. ad are you ? " '- Yrs,"said she, nestling closer to him ; "for now I think my dream will soon be coming true." V. '.ur dream?" M v dream the ambition of my life," said she, serious- ly. " It is all I wish for and hope for. Nothing else noth- ;n the world." Mesa us all ! " said he, with a touch of irony. " What rful ambition is this?" '* It is to make myself indispensable to you," she said, simply. 1 It took his hand from her ears and put them on her hair, for there were some bits of curls and semi-ringlets about her neck that wanted smoothing. " Yhamc that you have wasted so much time on me, through so many years, always coming to sec rne and take . perhaps not a week between, and I am glad enough, always expectation and expectation, and my things idy, and you, poor papa, wasting all your time, and always on the route ; and that such a long way to u at Oatlands Park the same up and down, up and down, by rail, and then long beautiful days that were me, but were stupid to you when you were thinking of the House all the time. Very well, now, papa; 1 have more tense now; I have been thinking: I want to you ; I want to be in London with ad you shall never have to run away idling, < '..ntineiit or to Oatlands Park ; and you shall think that I am wearying for you, when I am '.\\\ you in London. That is it now ; that 1 wish : tary." ide, she turned up her face to him ; iande," lie said, hastily, and even nervously. you ; it it wouldn't do at all. Don't thin 1 '. " what other member of Parliament, you have, is without a private YOLANDE. 1 secretary? Why should you ans\ver all those letters your self? For me, I will learn politics very quickly; I am studying hard ; at the chateau I translated all your speedup into Italian for exercises. And just to think that you have never allowed me to hear you speak in the House! When I come to London yes, for five minutes or half an hour at a time the ladies whom I see will not believe that 1 have- never once been in the the what is it called ? for the Indies to listen in the House? No, they cannot believe it. They know all the speakers ; they have heard all the great men ; they spend the whole of the evening there, and have many come to see them all in politics. Well, you see, papa, what a burden it would be taking off your hands. You would not always have to come home and dine with me, and waste so much of the evening in reading to me no, I should be at the House, listening to you, and understand- ing everything. Then all the day here, busy with your letters. Oh, I assure you I would make prettier compli- ments to your constituents than you could think of; I would make all the people of Slagpool who write to you think you were the very best member they could choose. And then then I should be indispensable to you." "You are indispensable to me, Yokinde. You are my life. What else do I care for? " he said, hurriedly. "You will pardon me, papa, if I say it is foolish. Oh, to think now ! One's life is more important than that, when you have the country to guard." " They seem to think there," said he, with a sardonic smile, and he glanced at the newspaper, "that the country would be better off without me." It was too late to recall this unfortunate speech. He had thrust aside the newspaper as she entered, dreading that by accident she might see the article, and be wounded by it; but now there was no help for it: the moment he had spoken she reached over and took up the journal, and tound her father's name staring her in the face. " Is it true, Yolande ? " said he, with a laugh. " Is that what I am like ? " As she read, Yolande tried to be grandly indifferent even contemptuous. Was it for her, who wished to be of assistance to her father in public affairs, to mind what was said about him in a leading article ? And then, in spite of herself tears slowly rotin OJi-1 filled the soft gray-blue eyes, thomrh she kent her hefui doun, vainly trying to hide thorn- YOLANDE. And then mortification at her weakness made her angry, and she crushed up the paper twice and thrice, and hurled ii into the tire; nay, she seized hold of the poker and thrust and drove the offending journal into the very heart of the . And then she rose, proud and indignant, but with ves a little wet, and with a toss of her pretty *aead, she said : - It is enough time to waste over such folly. Perhaps the poor man has to support a family ; but he need not write such stupidity as that. Now, papa, what shall I play for you ? " She was going to the piano. But he had risen also. u N'o, no, Yolande. I must be off to the House. There is just a chance of a division ; and perhaps I may be able to :i a few words somewhere, just To show the Slagpool that I am not careering about the Continent with my schoolgirl. No, no ; I will see you safe in your room, iide; and your lamp lit, and everything snug: then L-night." "Already?" she said, with a great disappointment in " Already ? " "Child, child, the affairs of this mighty empire " " \Vliat do I care about the empire ! " she said. II stood and regarded her calmly. " Y out to-morrow morning, as early as ever ;'->r the breakfast table?" :rd t YOLAKDE. 9 " I don't like your going out by yourself, Yolande," said he, rather hesitatingly. "You can order flowers. You can ring and tell the waiter " " The waiter ! " she exclaimed. " What am I of use for then, if it is a waiter who will choose flowers for your break- fast table, papa '? It is not far to Convent Garden." " Take Jane with you, then." "Oh yes." So that was settled ; and he went upstairs with her to see that her little silver reading-lamp was properly lit; and then he bade her the Inst real good-night. When he returned to the sitting-room for his hat and coat there was a pleased and contented look on his face. "Poor Yolande! " he was thinking; " she is more shut up here than in the country ; but she will soon have the liberty of Oatlands Park again." He had just put on his coat and hat, and was giving a last look round the room, to see if there was anything he ought to take with him, when there was a loud, sharp crash at the window. A hundred splinters of glass fell on to the floor ; a stone rolled over and over to the fireplace. J fe seemed bewildered only for a second ; and perhaps it was the startling sound that had made his face grow suddenly of a deadly pallor; the next second noiselessly and quickly he had stolen from the room, and was hurriedly descend- ing the stair to the hall of the hotel. CHAPTER II. THE SHADOW BEHIND. THE head waiter was in the hall, alone, and staring out through the glass door. When he heard some one behind him he turned quickly, and there was a vague alarm in his fee " The the lady, sir, has been here again." Mr. Winterbourne paid no heed to him, passed him hastily, and went out. The lamplight showed a figure standing there on the pavement the figure of a tall woman, dark and pale, who had a strange, dazed look in her eyes. 10 YOLANDE. *' I thought Fd bring you out ! " she said tauntingly, and with a slight laugh. " What do you want? " he said, quickly, and under his breath. "Have you no shame, woman? Come away. Tell me what you want." " You know what I want," she said sullenly. " I want no more lies." Then an angrier light blazed up in the im- ve, emaciated face. u Who has driven me to it, if I have to break a window ? I want no more lies and hidings. I \v:mt you to keep your promise ; and if I hare to break every window in the House of Commons, I will let every- body know. Whose fault is it? " But her anger seemed to die away as rapidly as it had arisen. A dull, vague, absent look returned to her face. " It is not my fault." " What madness hare you got hold of now ? " he said, in the same low and nervous voice; and all his anxiety seemed to be to get her away from the hotel. " Come along and tell me what you want. You want me to keep oinise to you, in this condition?" 44 It is not my fault," she repeated, in a listless kind of : and now she was quite obediently and peaceably following him, and he was walking toward Piccadilly, his bent down. 4 - I suppose I can guess who sent you," he said, watch- irrowly. " I suppose it was not for nothing you to make an exhibition of yourself in the public streets. :i-ked you to go and get some money? " Thi ! to put a new idea into her head ; perhaps ii.i'l IMMMI his intent. Y. -. I will take some money if you like," she said, tly. "They are my only friends now my only have been kind to me : they don't cheat me .ii.l promises; they don't put me off and turn me when I ask for them. Yes, I will take them some Ami tli- 1 a short, triumphant laugh. way to bring some one out," she y to herself. had reached the corner of Piccadilly, i cab happened to bo passing, he i" door. She made no re- ady to do anything he wished. some money. I will pay the driver." YOLANDE. 11 She got into the cab quite submissively and the man was given the address, and paid. Then the vehicle was driver off, and he was left standing on the pavement, still some- what bewildered, and not conscious how his hands were trembling. He stood uncertain only for a second or so ; then he walked rapidly back to the hotel. ' Has Miss Winterbourne's maid gone to bed yet ? " he asked of the landlady. " Oh no, sir ; I should think not sir," the buxom person answered : she did not observe that his face was pale and his eyes nervous. "'Will you please tell her, then, that we shall be going down to Oatlands Park again to-morrow morning? She must have everything ready, but she is not to disturb Miss Winterbourne to-night." " Very well, sir." Then he went into the coffee-room, and found the head waiter. " Look here," said he (with his eyes averted) ; " I sup- pose you can get a man to put a pane of glass in the window of our sitting-room the first thing in the morning ? There lias been some accident, I suppose. You can have it done before Miss Winterbourne comes down, I mean ? " He slipped a sovereign into the waiter's hand. " I think so, sir. Oh yes, eir." 14 You must try to have it done before Miss Winter- bourne comes down." He stood for a moment, apparently listening if there was any sound upstairs ; and then he opened the door again and went out. Very slowly he walked away through the lamp-lit streets, seeing absolutely nothing of the passers-by, or of the rattling cabs and carriages : and although he bent his steps Westminister-ward, it was certainly not the affairs of the nation that had hold of his mind. Rather he was thinking of that beautiful fair young life that young life so carefully and tenderly cherished and guarded, and all unconscious of this terrible black shadow behind it. The irony of it ! It was this very night that Yolande had chosen to reveal to him her secret hopes and ambition : she was to be always with him : she was to be " indispensable " ; the days of her banishment were to be now left behind ; and these two, father and daughter, were to be inseparable com- panions henceforth and forever. And his reply ? As he 12 YOLANDE. walked along the ha^f-deserted pavements, anxiously revolv- ing many tilings, and dreaming many dreams about what the fin ure might have in store for her, and regarding the trouble and terrible care that haunted his own life, the final sum- ming up of all his doubts and fears resolved itself into this : If ciily Yolande were married ! The irony of it! She had U -sought him, out of her love for him, and out of her grati- ior his watchful and unceasing care of her, that she should be admitted into a closer companionship ; that she >hould become his constant attendant, and associate, and friend ; and his answer was to propose to hand her over to another guardianship altogether the guardianship of a nt ranger. If only Yolande were married ! The light was burning on the clock tower, and so he knew the House was still sitting; but he had no longer any intention of joining in any debate that might be going for- ward. When he passed into the House (and more than he seemed to wish to avoid the eyes of strangers) it was to seek out his friend John Shortlands, whose rough common-sense and blunt counsel had before now stood him -d Mead and served to brace up his unstrung nerves. all, corpulent, big-headed iron-master who also rep- ted a northern constituency he at length found in the Ling-room, with two or three companions, who were i round a small table, and busy with cigars and brandy "la. Winterbourne touched his friend lightly on the 111 O hoaJ< :i you come outside for a minute? " U A11 right." I beautiful, clear, mild night, and seated on the benches on the Terrace there were Several groups of people among them two or three ladies, who had no doubt been the stuffy Chamber to have tea or lemonade Mem in the open, the while they chatted with their i regarded the silent, dark river and the lights of and Westminster Bridge. As Winter- i them, he could not but think of Yolande's had never even once been in the House 1 re, no doubt, the daughters of wives : why should not Yolande also b It would have been pleasant for him to come to her pleasanter than listening to a dull de- ill Vol.-indc have wondered at the strange night i Mark nver, all (juiverinir with' golden YOLANDE. 13 reflections ; the lights on the bridge ; the shadowy grandeur of this great building reaching far overhead into the starlit skies? Others were there; why not she? The Terrace of the House of Commons is at night a somewhat dusky promenade, when there does not happen to be moonlight ; but John Shortlands had sharp eyes ; and he instantly guessed from his friend's manner that something had happened. " More trouble? " said he, regarding him. " Yes," said the other. " Well, I don't mind I don't mind, as far as I am concerned. It is no new thing." But he sighed, in spite of his resigned way of speech. " I have told you all along, Winterbourne, that you brought it on yourself. You should ha' taken the bull by the horns." " It is too late to talk of it never mind that now," he said, impatiently. " It is about Yolande I want to speak to you." 44 Yes?" Then he hesitated. In fact, his lips trembled for the briefest part of a second. "You won't guess what I am anxious for now," he said, with a sort of uncertain laugh. " You wouldn't guess it in a month, Shortlands. lam anxious to see Yolande married." " Faith, that needn't trouble you," said the big iron- master, bluntly. " There'll be no difficulty about that. Yolande has grown into a thundering handsome girl. And they say," he added, jocosely, " that her father is pretty well off." They were walking up and down slowly; Mr. Winter bourne's face absent and hopeless at times, at times almost piteous, and again lightening up as he thought of some brighter future *for his daughter. u She can not remain any longer at school," he said at length, " and I don't like leaving her by herself at Oatlands Park or any similar place. Poor child ! Do you know what her own plans are ? She wants to be my private secretary. She wants to share the life that I have been lead- ing all these years." " And so she might have done, my good fellow, if there had been any common-sense among the lot o'ye." " It is too late to speak of that now," the other repeated, with a sort of nervous fretfulness. '* But indeed it is hard on the poor girl. She seems to have been thinking seri- 14 YOLANDE. ously about it. And she and I have been pretty close com- panions, one way or another, of late years. Well, if I could only see her safely married and settled perhaps living in the country, where I could run down fora day or fj,, her name not mine perhaps with a young family upy her and make her happy well, then, I think I should be able to put up with the loss of my pri- senvtary. I wonder what she will say when I pm pose it. She will be disappointed. Perhaps she will think I don't care for her when there is just not another creature in the world I do care for; she may think it cruel and unnatural." Xonsense, nonsense, man. Of course a girl like Yolande will get married. Your private secretary! How lon.r would it last ? Does she look like the sort of girl who ought to be smothered up in correspondence or listening to debates? And if you're in such a mighty hurry to get rid of her if you want to get her married at once I'll tell you and sure way send her for a voyage on board a P. and O. .-learner." But this was just somewhat too blunt; and Yolande's father said, angrily, "I don't want to get rid of her. And I am not likely to send her anywhere. Hitherto we have travelled together, and \ve have found it answer well enough, I can tell you. <'le isn't a bale of goods, to be disposed of to the first r. If it comes to that, perhaps she will not marry any M P'-rhaps," said the other, calmly. " I don't know that I may not throw Slagpool over and quit, the country altogether," he exclaimed, with a morn. cklessness, "Why shouldn't I? Yolande travelling. She has been four times across the Atlru She is the best companion I know; I tell t know a better companion. And I am sick of 8 going on here." (He nodded in the direc- < - .-rnment? They don't govern ; A Parliamentary victory is all they think about, ing to the mischief all the time. No i'ir majority, and if they can pose before moral and exemplary government 1 wonder they don't give up Gibraltar to Spain, an.i h.m.i ,, V er Malta to Italy; and then they ought to let Ireland ^o because she wants to go; and cer- YOLANDE. 15 tainly they ought to yield up India, for India was stolen ; and then they might reduce the army and the navy, to set an example of disarmament, so that at last the world might sc-e a spectacle a nation permitted to exist by other na- tions because of its uprightness and its noble sentiments. Well, that has nothing to do with Yolande, except that I think she and I could get on very well even if we left Eng- land to pursue its course of high morality. We could look on and laugh, as the rest of the world are doing." " My dear fellow," said Shortlands, who had listened to all this high treason with calmness, " you could no more get on without the excitement of worrying the Govern- ment than without meat and drink. What would it come to ? You would be in Colorado, let us say, and some young fellow in Denver, corne in from the 'plains, would suddenly discover that Yolande would be an adorn- ing feature for his ranch, and she would discover that he was the handsomest young gentleman she ever saw, and then where would you be ? You wouldn't be much good at a ranch. The morning papers would look tremendously empty without the usual protest against the honorable member for Slagpool so grossly misrepresenting the ac- tion of the Government. My good fellow, we can't do without you in the House ; we might as well try to do with- out the Speaker." For a few seconds they walked up and down in silence; at last Winterbourne said, with a sigh, " Well, I don't know what may happen ; but in the meantime I think I shall take Yolande away for another long trip somewhere " ""Again? Already?" "I don't care where ; but the moment I find myself on the deck of a ship, and i r olande beside me, then I feel as if all care had dropped away from me. I feel safe; I can breathe freely. Oh, by the way, I meant to ask if you knew anything of a Colonel Graham? You have been so often to Scotland shooting. I thought you might know." ' But there are so many Grahams." " Inverstroy, I think, is the name of his place." " Oh, that Graham. Yes, I should think so a lucky beggar. Inverstroy fell plump into his hands some three or four years ago, quite unexpectedly one of the finest estates in Inverness-shire. I don't think India will see him again." 1 , YOLANDE. " His wife seems a nice sort of woman," said Mr. Win- terbourne, with the slightest touch of interrogation. " I don't know her. She is his second wife. She is a daughter of Lord Lynn." ** They are down at Oatlands just now. Yolnnde has made their acquaintance, and they have been very kind to her. Well, this Colonel Graham was saying the other evening that he felt as though he had been long enough in the old country, and would like to take a P. and O. trip as Malta, or Suez, or Aden, just to renew his ac- quaintance with the old route. In fact, they proposed that Y olande and I should join them." "The very thing! " said John Shortlands, facetiously. " What did I say ? A P. and O. voyage will marry off anybody who is willing to marry." " I meant nothing of the kind," said the other, some- what out of temper ; " Yolande may not marry at all. If I went with these friends, of hers, it would not be 'to get rid of her/ as you say." My dear fellow, don't quarrel with me," said his friend, with more consideration than was habitual with him. "I really understand your position very well. You to see Yolande married and settled in life and re- 1 from from certain possibilities. But you don't like- the sacrifice, and I don't wonder at that ; I admit it will be rather rough on you. But it is the way of the world : other people's daughters get married. Indeed, WJnterboarne, I think it would be better for both of you. V"ii would have less anxiety. And I hope she'll find a : fellow who is worthy of her ; for she is a thunder- >od jrirl : that's what I think : and whoever he is, a prize, though I don't imagine you will be over -ed toward him, old chap." uide is happy, that will be enough for me," said ntly, as Big Ben overhead began to toll the the Ten-arc was quite deserted: and after further chat (Mr. Winterbournw had lost much now and of course all his talking wa>? and hT ways, and her liking for travel, and rid of 'her half-French accent, and so nird into the House, where they separated, ine his seat below the gangway on the : -hn Sliortlands depositing his inagnifi- bulk MI i.m. of th- Opposition benches. VOLANDh. 17 There was a general hum of conversation. There was also, as presently appeared, some laborious discourse going forward on the part of a handsome-looking elderly gentle- man a gentleman who, down in the country, 'w.is known to be everything that an Englishman could wish to be : an efficient magistrate, a plucky rider to hounds, an admirable husband and father, and a firm believer in the Articles of the Church of England. Unhappily, alas ! he had acquired some other beliefs. "He had got it into his head that he was an ora- tor ;and as he honestly did believe that talking was of value to the state, that it was a builder tip and maintainer of empire, he was now most seriously engaged in clothing some rather familiar ideas in long and Latinized phrases, the while the House murmured to itself about its own affairs, and the Speaker gazed blankly into space, and the reporters in the gallery thought of their courting days, or of their wives and children, or of their supper, and wondered when they were to get home to bed. The speech had a half-somnolent effect ; and those who were so inclined had an excellent opportunity for the dreaming of dreams. What dreams, then, were likely to visit the brain of the member for Siagpool, as he sat there with his eyes distraught ? His getting up some fateful evening to move a vote of want of confidence in the Government? His appearance on the platform of the Siagpool Mechanics' Institute, with the great mass of people rising and cheering and waving their hand- kerchiefs ? Or perhaps some day for who could tell what changes the years might bring his taking his place on the Treasury Bench there ? He had got hold of a blue-book. It was the Report of a RoyaJ Commission ; but of course all the cover of the folio volume was not printed over there were blank sp;u % es. And so, while those laborious and ponderous sentences were being poured out to inattentive ears, the member for Slag- pool began idly and yet thoughtfully to pencil certain letters up at one corner of the blue cover. He was a long time about it ; perhaps he saw pictures as he slowly and contem- platively formed each letter; perhaps no one but himself could have made out what the uncertain pencilling meant. But it was not of politics he was thinking. The letters that he had faintly pencilled there that lit- was still wistfully regarding as though they could show him things far away formed the word YOLANUE. It \\-I\F like a lover. YOLANDE. CHAPTER III. PREPARATIONS FOB FLIGHT. NEXT morning his nervous anxiety to get Yolande away at once out of London was almost pitiful to witness, though he strove as well as he could to conceal it from her. He had a hundred excuses. Oatlands was becoming very pretty at that time of the year. There was Httle of impor- tance going on in the House. London was not good for the roses in her cheeks. He himself would be glad of a breather up St. George's Hill, or a quiet stroll along to Chertsey. And so forth, and so forth. Yolande was greatly disappointed. She had been secretly nursing the hope that at last she might be allowed to remain in London, in some capacity or another, as the constant companion of her father. She had enough sense to see that the time consumed in his continually coming to stay with her in the country must be a serious thing for a man in public life. She was in a dim sort of way afraid that these visits might become irksome to him, even although he him- self should not be aware of it. Then she had her ambitions She had a vague impression that the country at large did not quite understand and appreciate her father; that tin- ]>< -ople did not know him as she knew him. How could if lie were to be forever forsaking his public duties in to gad about with a girl just left school? Never ' , Yolande was convinced, had the nation such urgent of his services. There were a great many things wrong which he could put right; of that she had no man- f doubt. The Government was making a tyrannical .ajority to go their own way, not heeding the and protest s of independent members; this ^i many other things ought to be attended to. And -uch a time, and just when she had revealed to ' aspiration that she might perhaps become :. -try, that he must needs tell her to pack ujs ami insist on quitting London with her. Yolande could not nndarsUnd it: l,ut she was a biddable and obedient kind YOLANDE. 19 of creature ; and so she took her place in the four-wheeled cab without any word of complaint. And yet, when once they were really on their way from London when the railway-carriage was fairly out of the station her father's manner seemed to gain so much in cheerfulness that she could hardly be sorry they had left. She had not noticed that he had been more anxious and nervous that morning than usual; but she could not fail to remark how much brighter his look was now they were out in the clearer air. And when Yolande saw her father's eyes light up like this as they did occasionally she was apt to forget about the injury that was being done to the affairs of the empire. They had been much together, these two ; and anything appertaining to him was of keen interest to her; whereas the country at large was some- thing of an abstraction ; and the mechanical majority of the Government for which she had a certain measure of contempt little more than a name. " Yolande," said he (they had the compartment to themselves), " I had a talk with John Shortlands last night." " Yes, papa ? " " And if England slept well from that time until this morning it was because she little knew the fate in store for her. Think of this, child : I have threatened to throw up my place in Parliament altogether, letting the country go to the mischief if it liked ; and then the arrangement would be that you and I, Yolande now just consider this that you and I should start away together and roam all over the world, looking at everything, and amusing ourselves, going jnst where we liked, no one to interfere with us you and I all by ourselves now, Yolande ! " * She had clasped her hands with a quick delight. " Oh, papa, that would indeed " But she stopped; and instantly her face grew grave again. " Oil no," she said, " no ; it would not do. Last night, papa, you were reproachful of me " " ' Reproachful of me ! ' " he repeated, mockingly. "Reproachful to me? "she said, with inquiring eyes. But he himself was not ready with the correct phrase ; and so she went on: "Last night you were reproachful that 1 had taken up so much of your time ; and though it was all in fun, still it was true ; and now I am no longer a school 20 YOLANDE. girl; and I wish to help you if I can, and not be merely me and an incumbrance " "You are so much of an incumbrauce, Yolande ! " he said, with a laugh. Yes," she said, gravely, "you would tire of me if we went away like that. In time you would tire. One would tire of always being amused. All the people that we see have work to do ; and some day it might be a long time but Home day you would think of Parliament, and you would think you had given it up for me " " Don't make such a mistake ! " said he. " Do not consider yourself of such importance, miss. If I threw over SI agpool, and started as a Wandering Jew I mean we should be two Wandering Jews, you know, Yolande it would be quite as much on my own account as yours " M You would become tired of being amused. You could not always travel," she said. She put her hand on his hand. "Ah, I see what it is," she said, with a little laugh. " You are concealing. That is your kindness, papa. You think I am too much alone ; it is not enough that you sacrifice to-day, to-morrow, next day, to me; you wish to make a sacrifice altogether ; and you pretend you are tired lilies. But you can not make me blind to it. I see oh, quite clearly I can see through your pretence ! " lie was scarcely listening to her now. " I suppose," he said, absently, " it is one of those fine things that are too fine ever to become true. Fancy now, the two of us just wandering away wherever we pleased, revtiuM- a day, a week, a month, when we came to some b'-autittil place all by ourselves in the wide world! " M I have often noticed that, papa," she said "that you '<> talk about bring away, about being remote " I Jut we should not be like the Wandering Jew in one iid, almost to himself. "The years would There would be a difference. Something might happen to one of us." And then, apparently, a new suggestion entered hi* wind. He glanced at the girl opposite him, timidly and ' "iande," said he, "I I wonder now I suppose at -well, have you ever thought of getting married?" i up at him with IHT clear, frank eyes, and startled like that her mouth had the slight YOLANDE. lil pathetic droop, already noticed, that made her face so sen- sitive and charming. " Why, hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of times ! " she exclaimed, still with the soft clear eyes wondering. His eyes were turned away. He appeared to attach no importance to this confession. " Of course," she said, " when 1 say I have thought hundreds of times of getting married, it is about not get- ting married that I mean. No. That is my resolution. Oh, many a time I have said that to myself. I shall not marry never no one." In spite of himself his face suddenly brightened up, and it was quite cheerfully that he went on to say : " Oh, but, Yolande, that is absurd. Of course you will marry. Of course you must marry. " When you put me away, papa." " When I put you away," he repeated, with a laugh. " Yes," she continued, quite simply. " That was what Madame used to say. She used to say, ' If your papa mar- ries again, that is what you must expect. It will be better for you to leave the house. But your papa is rich ; you will have a good portion ; then you will find some one to marry you, and give you also an establishment.' 'Very well,' I said ; * but that is going too far, Madame, and until my papa tells me to go away from him I shall not go away, and there is not any necessity that I shall marry any one.' " "I wish Madame had minded her own affairs," Mr. Winterbourne said, angrily. " I am not likely to marry again. I shall not marry again. Put that out of your head, Yolande, at once and for always. But as for you well, don't you see, child, I I can't live forever, and you have got no very near relatives, and, besides, living with rela- tives isn't always the pleasantest of things, and I should like to see your future quite settled, I should like to know that that" " My future ! " Yolande said, with a light laugh. " No, I will have nothing to do with a future : is not the present very good ? Look : here I am, I have you ; we are going out together to have walks, rides, boating is it not enough ? Do I want any stranger to come in to interfere ? No ; some day you will say, 'Yolande, you worry me. You stop my work. Now I am going to attend to Parliament, and you have got to marry, and go off, and not worry me.' Very well. It is enough. What I shall say is this : Papa, J>2 YOLANDE. choose for me. What do I know? I do not know, and 1 do not care. Only a few things are necessary are quite entirely necessary. He must "not talk all day long about horses. And he must be in Parliament. And he must be MI your side in Parliament. How much is that three ? three qualifications. That is all." Indeed, he found it was no use trying to talk to her seriously about this matter. She laughed it aside. She lid not believe there was any fear about her future. She \vas well content with the world as it existed : was not the day fine enough, and Weybridge, and Chertsey, and Ksher and Moulsey all awaiting them ? If her father would leave his Parliamentary duties to look after themselves, she was ourne. Yolande dear, this is my brother Archie. Mr. Winterbourne, my brother, Mr. Leslie. Well, now, what have you to say for yourself? " He had thrown away his cigar. " Xot much," said he, smiling good-naturedly and taking some wraps and things from her which her husband had selfishly allowed her to carry. " I went down to see some fellows at Chatham last night, and of course I stayed there, and came over in the morning. Sorry I vexed you. You see, Miss Winterbourne, my sister likes platform parade ; she likes to have people round her for half an hour before the train starts ; :md she likes to walk up and down, for it shows off her figure and her dress: isn't that so, Polly? But you hadn't half your display this morning, apparently. Where's Baby ? Where's Ayah ? " " You know very well. You would have been grumbling all the time if I had brought Baby." "Well," said he, looking rather aghast, "if you've left Baby behind on my account I shall have a pleasant time of it. I don't believe you. But tell me the number of your cabin, and I'll take these tilings down for you. I'm on the spard eck, thank goodness! " " Miss Winterbourne's cabin is next to mine ; so you can take her things down too." " No, thank you," said Yolande, who was looking out for her luggage (her maid being in a hopeless state of be- wilderment), and who had nothing in her hand but the little basket. " I will take this down myself by and by." There was a great bustle and confusion on board ; friends giving farewell messages ; passengers seeking out their cabins ; the bare-armed and barefooted lascars, with their blue blouses and red turbans, hoisting luggage on to their shoulders and carrying it along the passages. Mr. Winter- bourne was impatient. "I hate this this confusion and noise," he snid. " But, papa," said Yolande, " I know your things as well as my own. Jane and I will sec to them when they come on board. Please go away and get some lunch please ! Everything will be quiet in a little while." " I wish we were off," he said, in the same impatient way. "This delay is quite unnecessary. It is always the 32 YOLANDE. same. We ought to have started before now. Why doesn't the captain order the ship to be cleared ? " " Papa dear, do go and get places at the table. The Grahams have gone below. And have something very nice waiting for me. See, there comes your other portmanteau now ; and there is only the topee-box ; and I know it be- cause I put a bit of red silk on the handle. Papa, do go down and get us comfortable places I will come as soon as I have sent your topee-box to your cabin. I suppose we shall be near the Grahams." " Oh, I4cnow where Mrs. Graham will be," her father Raid, peevishly. " She will be next the captain. She is the sort of woman who always sits next the captain." " Then the captain is very lucky, papa," said Yolande, mildly, "for she is exceedingly nice ; and she has been ex- ceedingly kind to me." " I suppose the day will come when this captain, or any other captain, would be just as glad to have you sit next him," he said. " Papa," she said, with a smile, " are you jealous of Mrs. Graham for my sake ? I am sure I do not wish to sit next the captain ; I have not even soen him yet that I know of." 15 ut this delay, necessary or unnecessary, made him ir- ritable and anxious. He would not go to the saloon until lie had seen all the luggage both his and Yolande's des- patched to their respective cabins. Then he began to in- quire why the ship did not start. Why were the strainers not packed off on board the tender and sent ashore ? Why did the chief officer allow these boats to be hanging about? The agent of the company had no right to be standing talk- ing on deck t\vo hours after the ship was timed to sail. M an while Yolande stole away to her own cabin, and carefully and religiously and, indeed, with a little choking in the throatopened the little basket that held the flowers whether they might not be the better for a hittle sprinkling O f water. They were rather expensive flowers poor woman to have bought, and the damp moss in which they were imbedded and the basket itself also were ve of Covent Garden than of Whitechapd. Yolande poured some water into the washhand basin, ami dipped her fingers into it, and very carefully and tenderly sprinkled the flowers over. And then she considered \?hat was likely to be the coolest and safest place in the cabin for YOLAXDE. S3 them, and hung the basket there, and came out again . shutting the door, involuntarily, with quietness. She passed through the saloon, and went up oil deck. Her father was still there. " Papa," said she, " you are a very unnatural person. You are starving me." "Haven't you had lunch, Yolande ?" said he, with a sudden compunction. " No, I have not. Do I ever have lunch without you ? I am waiting for you." " Really, this delay is most atrocious ! " he said. " Whnt is the use of advertising one hour and sailing at another? There can be no excuse. The tender has gone ashore." " Oh, but, papa, they say there is a lady who missed the train, and is coming down by a special " " I don't believe a word of it. Why, that is worse. The absurdity of keeping a ship like this waiting for an idiot of a woman ! " " I am so hungry, papa ! " " Well, go down below, and get something, if you can. No doubt the gross mismanagement reaches to the saloon tables as well." She put her hand within his arm, and half drew him along to the companion way. " What is the difference of an hour or two." said she, " if we are to be at sea for a fortnight ? Perhaps the poor lady who is coming down by the special train has some one ill abroad. And and besides, papa, I am so very, very, very hungry ! " He went down with her to the saloon, and took his place in silence. Yolande sat next to Mrs. Graham, who was very talkative and merry, even though there was no captain in his place to do her honor. Young Archie Leslie was opposite ; so was Colonel Graham. They were mostly idling ; but Yoland was hungry, and they were all anxious to help her at once, though the silent dusky stewards knew their duties well enough. By and by, when they were talking about anything or nothing, it occurred to the young Master of Lynn to say, "I suppose you don't know that we are off?" "No! impossible!" was the general cry. " Ob, but we are, though. Look ! " Mr. Winterbourne quickly got up and went to one of 34 YOLANDE. the ports ; there, undoubtedly, were the river-banks slowly, slowly going astern. He went back to his scat, putting his hand on Yolando'i shoulder as he sat down. ** Yolande," said he, " do you know that we are off really and truly going away from England altogether quit from its shores?" His manner had almost instantly changed. His spirits quickly brightened up. He made himself most agreeable to Mrs. Graham; and was humorous in his quiet, half- sardonic way, and was altogether pleased with the appear- ance and the appointments of the ship. To fancy this great mass of metal moving away like that, and the throbbing of the screw scarcely to be detected ! "You know, my dear Mrs. Graham," he said presently, " this child of mine is a most economical, even a penurious, creature; and I must depend on you to force her to make proper purchases at the different places all the kinds of tilings that women-folk prize, don't you know. Lace, now. What is the use of being at Malta if you don't buy lace ? And embroideries and things of that kind. She ought to bring back enough of Eastern silks and stuffs to last her a lifetime. And jewelry too silver suits her very well she must get plenty of that at Cairo " " Oh, you can leave that to my wife," Colonel Graham said, confidently. " She'd buy up the Pyramids if she could take them home. I'm glad it won't be my money." And this was but one small item of expectation. The voyage before them furnished forth endless hopes and schemes. They all adjourned to the hurricane-deck; and here his mood of contented cheerfulness was still more obvious. lie was quite delighted with the cleanness and order of the ship, and with the courtesy of the captain, and with the smart look of the officers; and he even expressed approval of the pretty,